Danny had spent most of the winter planning the upcoming trip and as it got closer he became more and more excited.  I had to smile every time I talked to him – his enthusiasm was contagious!

I had met him in late fall of last year and we hit it off right from the start.  I don’t like the bar scene so it sometimes is tough to meet guys, but Danny and I literally bumped into each other in the supermarket.  He accidently hit me with his cart and as I spun around to swear I found myself gazing into the deepest brown eyes that I had ever seen.  I must have just been staring because he started to flush with embarrassment and stammered an apology.  It only took a few minutes of conversation before we found ourselves setting up a time to meet for coffee.  We had been seeing a lot of each other since then.  Sometimes you just click.  We had been fast friends, since.

We had shared a few secrets with each other and had some fantasies and fetishes in common; but we never explored them together.  We did, however, spend quite a few hours detailing our favorite fantasies – left me hard, but frustrated.

One of his passions is backpacking and he just lit up when he talked about the trips he had taken; especially the one last summer.  He finally convinced me that we should go on a pretty long hiking trip – he would take care of the arrangements and gear.  All I had to do was hit the treadmill at the gym to get into shape for the walk.

I had a ton of vacation time stored up my company encouraged sabbaticals for its managers, so I decided to take advantage of it and took May through August off.  I was really looking forward to it as I really hadn’t had a vacation since graduating from college.

In late winter Danny came over with a pile of maps and a load of gear.  We sat down and he showed me his plans for the trip.  He had selected a very remote area out west where there was a great trail system.  We would have to ship our gear up to a hostel at the trailhead then fly up.  The last leg of the trip would be a couple hour drive from the airport to the hostel – their shuttle van would meet us.  From the first hostel we would hike in for three days to a second, more remote hostel for resupply, a shower and a soft bed.  Then it would be a five day hike to a third hostel.  Where, we would decide if we wanted to continue deeper into the wilderness or take a few days and hike out to “civilization.”  Danny was worried that I wouldn’t like the trail hiking and rough camping, so he wanted to try this route first.  If I did enjoy it we could continue with additional hikes up there for the better part of the summer – coming into to “civilization” every 5 or 6 days to resupply and refresh.

I thought it sounded like fun – would take some getting used to, but I was up for it.  Then he pulled out some of the gear that he had brought along so that I could become familiar with it.  He went through the tent set-up.  Showed me the water filter, little cook stove, etc.  The backpack seemed huge, but I guess it had to be if we were hauling everything we would need for four or five days at a time.  He helped me to put it on and adjusted the straps and belts.  The padded shoulder harness on the pack, the thought of nights in sleeping bags in the tent that was barely big enough for two, and all the time that I would be spending with Danny made my dick spring to life.  The mesh shorts that I was wearing did little to hide it and Danny smiled when he noticed and said that he got horney thinking about all the gear too.

After the pack was adjusted, he took it off and opened it up.  He pulled out a bunch of clothes and hiking boots.  He said that he had taken the liberty of buying all the clothes that I would need for the trip – though it would be easier, since he knew what we would need and what we could do without.  I was excited about the fact that he was taking care of everything – even the clothes that I would be wearing.  Some of the clothes were his, he said, used on previous trips but still in great shape – the fact that I would be wearing some of his clothes made my dick hard, again.

Anyway, fast forward a few weeks and we were at the airport waiting for the hostel’s van to pick us up.  He had shipped our gear ahead, so all we had were small carry-ons and the clothes on our back.  Somewhere along the way it had occurred to me that nothing that I had with me or in the rest of the gear was actually mine – he had provided everything (and wouldn’t take any money for it).  Everything I was currently wearing, in fact, were clothes that he had preciously worn and handed down to me (even the underwear).  Weird, maybe, but it still aroused me.

The van arrived and we set off.  It didn’t take long before “civilization” became scarce.  We passed a few small towns but mostly forest.  It was beautiful and I started to relax.  The next few weeks would be carefree and I was looking forward to it.  We arrived at the first hostel at dusk and ate a quick dinner in the common room before turning in for the night.  Our gear was waiting in a bunk room for us, so we unrolled the sleeping bags – teasingly argued over who gets the top bunk – and quickly fell asleep.  At daybreak we were on the trail.  By the end of the first day I was silently cursing the weight of the pack, but had enjoyed the trail and Danny’s comfortable companionship.  We set up camp and crawled into the little tent.  It was warm so we slept on top of the sleeping bags, he was wearing only a pair of shorts and I admired his chest and eventually snuggled against him.

He started asking me to describe my bondage fantasies for him after the second night.  Wanting more details and always making me go back over each one.  I could only assume that it turned him on because I really only had two and I would have thought that he would get very bored of listening to them over and over.

The next couple of days passed in much the same way.  We made it to the second hostel late on the third day.  It felt great to take a shower (even if it was cold) and Danny made it more fun by sneaking in so we could shower together.  We restocked our packs from the hostel’s supplies (I guess Danny had arranged payment for everything in advance so there was never any question of payment) and bedded down early.  Since we had a room to ourselves we shared the bottom bunk together.  I was growing very accustomed to the warmth of his toned body next to mine.

When we reached the third hostel it was decision time.  We could take a trail that followed the supply road and be in civilization in two days.  Or, if I wanted, we could hike deeper into the wilderness.  It was a full six day hike to a very remote camp.  All the supplies for that place were flown in by float-plane.  He told me that the outpost also served a few other purposes, but never went into detail.  If we went in-it would be a bare minimum of 12 days in and out – more if we spent a few days at the outpost.  I said yes before I knew it – the thought of being with him – alone – for that period of time made the decision for me.  We set off the next morning after resupplying.  The packs were heavier, but I was stronger too.

“Remember those fantasies we talked about?” He said the first night out.  I thought I would make it come true for you tonight, are you interested?”

Not knowing what he had in mind, I shyly said yes.  He flicked on a flashlight and showed me a pair of handcuffs and a leather gag.  Being imprisoned and held against my will was the thing that I had always wanted to try.  I said that I would love it if he would cuff me and keep me locked up.

“Are you really sure this is something that you want to try?” he asked again.

I said, “Absolutely, you know that I want to be locked up!”

I rolled over onto my stomach so that he could lock the cuffs on and he wasted no time locking them in place.  Before I knew what was happening he had the gag in place and I heard a padlock snap shut as he pulled the leather strap tight.  My dick roared to life and he laughed as he pushed be back onto my side and saw the erection.  “I’m glad you like it!  Sleep tight!” and he switched off the flashlight.

The next few days were the same, beautiful scenery and easy hiking and nights in the tent being handcuffed and gagged.  Every night he would ask if it was really what I wanted and every night I assured him that I not only wanted it but was beginning to yearn for it.  In the morning he would release me and we would set-off.  I never once complained.  I was enjoying it.  I told him often how much I was looking forward to being locked up for the night.

I could hear the sounds of hammering and other construction noise long before we could see the outpost.  Danny told me that he read that they were enlarging it so that it could accommodate more guys.  It had been a long hike and I was very tired – I was looking forward to relaxing at the outpost.  The woods were really thick and we were almost on top of one of the outpost buildings before I saw it.  It was set close to the shore of a large lake and there was a float plane tied up at the dock.  As we walked up on the porch two good looking guys came out to meet us.  They were both ruggedly handsome and well built – and wearing faded camo BDU pants and olive colored T’s.  They welcomed Danny by name, which surprised me, but I didn’t get a chance to ask as they seemed in a rush to get us inside and “settled.”

One of the guys had pulled me to one side of the lodge room, which was much smaller than I was expecting based on the size of the building, and was helping me take off my pack before I had a chance to say anything or really look around.  Danny was on the other end of the room with the other guy talking.  I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they both kept glancing at me and I was starting to get a little paranoid.  The two guys left the room with our packs and Danny walked over to me and said that he was just making sure all the arrangements were in order.  The guys were busy as they had a bunch of work going on and wanted to get us settled as soon as possible.  They returned a few minutes later and the guy that had taken my pack handed me a bottle of water and said that we could get to our rooms in a little while.  I chatted with Danny for a few minutes while I drank the water, noticed I was getting a little woozy and then I must have blacked out.

When I came to I was disoriented and my head hurt like hell.  I was dizzy for a bit and realized I was laying on a thin mattress.  At first I thought I must have just passed out from exhaustion or something, but as my eyes started to focus I saw that I was in some type of cell.  It was dimly lit, concrete walls, the mattress was on a concrete ledge, there was a rusty sink and an old toilet – and metal bars running along the opening to what appeared to be a hallway.  I was trying to get my head around what the hell was going on when I noticed that I was wearing what looked like a prison uniform – bright orange jumpsuit, no pockets, “Inmate” was imprinted down one leg, and I realized that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.  What the hell was going on?

A few minutes later Danny came to the cell bars – flanked by the two guys that had met us.  I jumped up and yelled at him trying to get him to tell me what this was all about, but he wouldn’t answer until I sat back on the bunk and calmed down.  The two guys just stood there stoically, at what looked like the military “at ease” pose. I swore at him but sat down – I needed to know what was happening.

He finally said, “We talked so much about your fantasies that I thought it would be great if I could really find a way to satisfy your lust.  This place isn’t a getaway for hikers, as you might have already guessed; it’s a prison work camp.  Guys from the state pen are brought up here for the summer to work – and they work their asses off every day.  The time they spend up here comes right off of their sentences.  If they screw off or disobey any of the rules they are sent back and time is added back on – they run a tight ship here and they realized a few years ago that there was additional business to be had by imprisoning “volunteers” who wanted to experience this type of thing for themselves.  The “volunteer” prisoners earn their keep.

Danny stared at me for a moment and then continued, “I couldn’t think of a better place for you to spend the summer.  I wanted to make sure that you were really up for something like this, so I kept testing you along the last part of the hike.  Every night you were given the chance to say no to being handcuffed and gagged, but every night you agreed.  You even told me you yearned for it.  That just reinforced what I already knew – this is absolutely what you want – and now you get to live it.  Really live it”

He stepped away from the bars and walked off down the hall.  One of the two guys – or I guess I should say “guards” – moved forward and said in what can only be described as an ominous voice, “For you there will be no special treatment.  You are now a prisoner of the State.  There is no escape from this camp.  There is no reprieve until your sentence is complete.  The rules are simple and I will tell this to you only once; if you fail to obey an order from any guard or fail to perform any task assigned to you satisfactorily, you will be punished.  You do not want to experience that, so do as you are told.”

He stepped back from the bars, “Tonight you can relax in your cell.  You’ll need to sleep off the drug that we gave you earlier, anyway.  In the morning you will be formally inducted into the camp and put into the work rotation.  You will also be assigned to a permanent cell.  I suggest you get some rest – this will be the last time that you will be anything but a prisoner, anything but a number.”

Both of the guards walked away and shortly after I heard the slamming of what sounded like a heavy steel door.  The sound of the lock echoed down the hall just before the lights went out.

I managed to find the toilet in the dark to take a piss before laying back down on the mattress.  There was no way that this was really happening – a prison work camp and I was going to be locked up here for the summer?  Danny must know these guys and it must be a joke of some sort.  Then again, how does that explain the cell that I was currently locked in?

No escape, no reprieve, punishment.  The words floated around in my head.  If this was really a work camp with real prisoners how could they really keep “volunteer” prisoners?  As I thought about it, I was horrified to realize that my dick was getting hard.  Danny was right, this was my number one fantasy – imprisoned, no escape.  If this was real, I still wasn’t sure that it could be, how would I be able to handle it?  How hard would the work be?  Were they really able to keep me here against my will?  All of this ran through my head as I drifted off.

I was startled awake by the slamming of the metal door at the end of the hallway and the yelling of the guards as the screamed at me to present myself “front and center” at the bars to the cell.  I apparently didn’t move off the bunk fast enough as their yelling increased in volume and became more rapid-fire – they sounded like military drill sergeants.  My heart was racing as I rushed to obey their orders and they man-handled me out of the cell and were dragging me down the hall before I really even knew what was happening.  They brought me into a dimly lit small room with a workbench of some type at one end and told me to get undressed.  I hesitated and they just about ripped the orange coveralls off of me.  Once I was naked and standing at attention another guard came in and used an electric razor to cut my hair; he did it so quick that I could only imagine the hatchet job that it must have resembled.  They then yanked me by the arm to the workbench.  As we got closer I could make out sets of iron shackles on the work surface and all I could think was how heavy and solid they looked.  I tried to yank away from the guard, but the other two were already behind me and forced me to my knees.

“We told you last night that you would be initiated into the camp this morning.  We think you’ll like the new ‘jewelry’ that we have ready for you!”  They all laughed at that as the third guard took some type of large iron ring off of the workbench.  He brought it closer so that I could see it and I realized that it was a collar!  As he showed it to me he said, “Take a good look prisoner.  This collar will be locked on for the duration of your sentence.”  He turned it slightly in his hand, “See this plate right here?  It contains all the information that any guard ever needs to know about you.”  The only things etched on the nameplate were “Prisoner Number 02158.”  He turned it around to show me the words “State Prisoner” which were also etched directly into the metal of the collar.

“Memorize it right now.  You are 02158 from now on.”  He opened the collar and placed it around my neck – it was heavy and fit very close to my neck.  This was something that would be hard to get used to without a doubt.  My head was spinning as he snapped it shut and secured it with some type of tool.  “The locking mechanism was specially design for us.  Without the proper key the only way to get the collar off is to cut through an inch of solid, tempered steel.  By the way, every cop and warden in the state recognizes these and where the prisoners who wear them belong.  Just remember that if you think you can escape.”

He then grabbed a set of the shackles form the workbench and bent down to place them on my ankles.  They were just as heavy as the collar and linked by a heavy chain that looked like it would allow only limited movement.  They, too, were locked with the same tool.  As he locked them I could see that the entire locking mechanism was recessed into the shackle and would be inaccessible without the proper tool.

This could not be happening.  It was sinking in that this was not a joke.  The collar and shackles were very real and there would be no way for me to (ever) remove them.  What the hell had Danny gotten me into?  I was too confused to think clearly – the thought of being locked into these metal restraints for the entire summer scared the hell out of me.  The guards pulled me forward and I followed without resisting.  Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that I had turned instantly docile.  The guards must have seen it before as one of them smirked and said, “The truth is sinking in isn’t it?  No escape.  No reprieve.  Nothing, 02158, until your sentence is completed.”

With that they shuffled me out of the room and led me through a series of heavy metal doors that were unlocked and relocked as we passed through.  It was damp and felt like we were in a basement.  Eventually we came to what must have been a cell block.  Heavy doors lined each side of the corridor – each one of them had no openings except a locking, rectangular hinged door set near the floor.  Every one of them had a white stenciled number and I knew they had reached mine when 02158 came into view.  They unlocked the door and pushed me inside.  “Get dressed and get used to your new home.  We’ll be back for you in a couple of hours.  We have other prisoners to deal with.”

The door slammed and locked behind them and I was left in the dim light of a concrete cell.  It couldn’t have been more than 6 feet long and was only maybe 4 feet wide.  A concrete bunk filled the length of the left wall and a combination sink and toilet was crammed into the far corner.  A thin mattress was rolled-up on one end of the bunk and there was some orange clothing folded near it.  I picked them up and started to get dressed.  No underwear and the pants reminded me of the “tear-away” kind the basketball players use while on the sidelines.  Sets of snaps running along the entire length of the inside and outside of each leg right up to the waist – basically a back half and a front half that snapped together to form a pair of pants – would have been impossible to put a regular pair of pants on with the ankle irons locked on.  The shirt had only snaps and a pair of slip-on sneakers (also orange.)  The pants and the shirt had “Inmate” on the front and back and both also had 02158 stenciled boldly on them.

Once dressed, I unrolled the mattress only to find it was stained and smelled of urine.  There was an old wool blanket rolled up inside – no pillow.  I sat on the bunk and looked around again.  Grey poured concrete block walls – no paint – the floor was poured concrete that was stained with who knows what and the ceiling was unfinished concrete, as well.  A dim light bulb was surrounded by a heavy metal cage above the door.  The shadows reflected on the walls looked exactly like the light shining through the cell bars from the night before.  I guess this was it.  I could have cried but what the hell good would that do?  I was starting to hate Danny for this – sure I had fantasies about something like this, but that is just what they were – fantasies.

I shuffled around the cell for a bit; trying to get a feel for the range of movement the shackles offered – not much.  The collar was already rubbing on my shoulders and I knew that it would eventually rub them raw – the damn thing was heavy and prevented me from lowering my head.  Oh shit, this was miserable and it wasn’t even an hour since they put it on.  I tried to imagine what it was going to be like staring at these same walls for the entire summer and my heat just sank in my chest.  I sat back down on the bunk and sobbed.

After a while my sobs subsided and I just sat there staring at the grey wall.  It occurred to me that I had not heard a single sound from outside of the cell.  No slamming doors, no yelling or talking, nothing.  The steel door was thick, but I didn’t think it could block out every noise completely.  I walked over to the door and inspected the section that opened near the floor.  I guessed it was for a food tray or something – wasn’t sure what else it would be used for.

The shackles were bad enough, but the collar was driving me nuts.  I laid down on the bunk and tried to get some rest – I didn’t know what else to do.  I rolled the blanket up to use as a pillow but the urine smell from the mattress was all that I noticed.  Sadly, I imagined that I would eventually get used to it.

Nothing changed.  No noise, the light bulb never dimmed or flickered, no sound of water running in the pipes – nothing.  I couldn’t have been locked in here for more than a few hours and I was already going stir crazy.  I though again about Danny and how cruel he had been to just toss me in here like this thinking that it was what I really wanted.  I had known the guy less than a year – I had thought he was such a great guy.  I guess I was wrong.  However, when I thought of snuggling with him in the tent my dick started to come to life.

I jumped when I heard the key in the lock and the door was yanked open.  I was already on my feet but the guard yelled at me to stand in the middle of the cell with my arms at my side, my eyes always on the floor and to remain at “attention” until I was told to move.  This was the way that it was to be every time a guard spoke to me.  I was never to make eye contact with a guard – never. I was also to wait like this when the cell door was opened and remain like this when I was returned to my cell – until the door was closed and locked.  His final words were the order that I was to address the guards as sir at all times and every sentence will start with and end with “Sir!”

I just stared at him until he barked at me, “Do you understand 02158?”  I wasn’t fast enough in responding and he was in my face in a second, “I said. Do you understand 02158?”

I mumbled, “Sir. Yes, sir,” but he made me repeat it for what seemed like hundred times until he was satisfied.  “Sir! Yes. Sir!”

He then grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the cell.  As he was dragging me through the door at the end of the cell block I finally saw another prisoner.  The guy was dressed exactly like me, was collared, and shackled too.  His uniform was muddy and soaked with sweat and I could smell him from 20 paces.  He stood at attention, eyes downcast, in the connecting corridor and I caught a glimpse of another cell block as we passed.  The corridor was lined with guys standing at attention outside the cells.  Every one of them was collared and shackled.  If these guys were real state prisoners, how did they get away with keeping them in chains like this?  Somehow I thought that it was illegal or inhumane or something.  Who would ever notice, though, in this remote area?

The guard dragged me along until we came to a set of barred doors.  Off to the side there was a guard in locked room.  As he saw us, the first door’s lock buzzed open.  Once between the doors, the first one locked shut and the second one buzzed open.  We were in another short hallway that led to a set of concrete steps – heading upward, at least.  At the top of those stairs there was another set-up like we had passed through a few moments before – another guard, another set of electric locks, another feeling of hopelessness that there was no way to get out of the cell blocks below.

Eventually he led me out into a large courtyard.  The sun was setting (rising?) so it was mostly in shadow, but it was definitely light enough for me to see what was going on.  There were three rows of prisoners (maybe forty or fifty guys) all standing at attention off to one side – every one collared and shackled – and most were filthy and their uniforms soaked through with sweat.  We stood there for a few minutes and the first row of guys was ordered into the building that I had just left.  They all marched in unison – heading down to the cells below.  The guard didn’t say a word, but I knew to follow as he led me further into the courtyard.  He led me up a set of stairs that led to a second floor deck that ran around three sides of the area.  Guards stood at various points along its length – and all were armed.  When we got to the end of one of the longer sides of the courtyard he told me to stand at attention and take a long look around – just so that I could get a feel for the place.  Off into the near distance, beyond the courtyard area, there was a lot of construction work going on – long pits were dug and sacks of concrete were stacked everywhere.  There were a few prisoners rinsing out the hand-crank concrete mixers and cleaning up.

It became obvious after a few minutes that all that was being built was more cells!  The pits were the beginning of new cell blocks.  I could see the walls of cells that were almost completed at the near end of each of the three pits and there was an area that was covered in freshly tamped dirt – where the completed cells must have already been recovered.  There was no heavy machinery visible so every pit must have been dug by hand – no wonder the guys were all filthy.  I looked back and noticed that the courtyard was surrounded on three sides by rustic lodge buildings – but every window was barred and the doors were all heavy steel.

The guard finally moved closer to me and said, “This is the only ‘tour’ that you will ever get. We do it for each new prisoner so that you understand what it’s all about.  These lodge buildings are the guard’s and staff quarters.  No prisoners are ever allowed inside.  There are several generators that provide the camp with power and supplies are flown in daily via floatplane.  The courtyard is used for assembly at the beginning and end of each workday.  It is also used for discipline and punishment, which is a very public event here.  It serves as a reminder to each and every prisoner that the rules are to be obeyed.”

“The original cell blocks were built under the lodge buildings and we are adding more cells to accommodate the influx of new prisoners that we will see next year.  The construction out beyond the courtyard is three more cell blocks.  Built like basements, dug by hand, everything concrete.  Eventually it will all be covered over and replanted – a year or so from now and it will look like a natural clearing – there won’t be any indication of the cells beneath.  No casual observer will ever know.”

“Although I will never understand freaks like you, 02185, that volunteer for this work and even pay for the privilege; there is no shortage of state prisoners that need to be housed.  We will be able to fill this place up in no time.  Now 02185 you are going back to your cell so that you can rest for the night.”  I just stared out at the work being done and guessed that it had really only just started and there would be more than enough to last the summer – I dreaded the work that I would face.

He slapped me hard across the face and got my immediate attention.  I had stopped standing at attention and I had not responded when he had stopped speaking.  Belatedly, I returned to attention and yelled, “Sir, I am sorry, sir!”

I realized that I was also looking him straight in the eye.  His eyes drove into mine as he snarled, “What the hell are you looking at prisoner?  It doesn’t appear that you are a very quick learner.  Too bad for you.  The dumber they are the harder they fall.”

“Sir! I will try to do better, sir”

“That you will.  But tomorrow morning you will experience a taste of what punishment is like around here so that you remember your place.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

He grabbed me and led me back to my cell.  The door slammed shut and I sat on the bunk wondering what was in store for me tomorrow.  After a little while the slot-door opened and a tray was thrust in.  Most of its contents spilled on the floor when the tray hit the concrete.  I couldn’t remember the last time that I had eaten or drank anything.  The food was tolerable – I don’t think I tasted it anyway I was so hungry.  I had scarfed it in no time and I was startled when the slot-door flew open again and I heard someone yell, “Tray!”  I shoved the empty tray and water bottle through the slot and said, “Sir, thank you sir!”

The voice on the other side of the door was gravely, “Don’t ‘sir’ me dumbass – I’m locked up in here just like you.”  The door slammed shut.  I sat on the bunk, worried.  The same thoughts kept running through my mind.  This was the second day since we had arrived – assuming that I had only been unconscious for a few hours.  I had at least three and half months based on the time I had taken off of work.  Would I be released by then?  How the hell was I going to make it?

I sat on the bunk waiting.  The light never went out so I had no idea what time it was or how many hours had passed.  I couldn’t sleep – I was too upset and nervous.  All I could think of was Danny and how he had totally screwed me into this.  Eventually I heard the cell door being unlocked.  I stood in the center of the cell at “attention” staring at the floor – I didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were.  The guard told me to move out of the cell and stand in the corridor.  As I did so I could see all the other prisoners in the cell block were also waiting outside their cells.  When everyone was in the corridor we all lined up and walked out of the cell block.  The other guys were still filthy from the previous day’s work (or maybe more) and smelled of sweat.  I stood out in my clean uniform.

When we reached the courtyard a guard yelled a number – it took me a while to realize that it was me.  I was roughly grabbed and pulled out of the line and led away from the group.  The guard from yesterday was waiting.  He told me to get on my knees and I waited for all of the other prisoners to arrive in the courtyard from the cell blocks below.  There had to be over 60 guys – I wondered how many “volunteers” were among them.

There was a counting off by number and when that was completed the guard turned to me.  “Just so you know we don’t make big speeches.  Every prisoner here knows what this is about.  You fucked up and are being punished.  Every prisoner knows that if they fuck up, they’ll be next.”

I heard the footsteps of several guards behind me and I was roughly held down by the shoulders has they pulled something over my face.  It was some type of heavy-duty muzzle with a large built-in gag.  They took no time in being gentle as they shoved it on my mouth and pulled all of the straps tight.  Why I was being gagged I didn’t know, but I knew that it couldn’t be good.  They pulled me to my feet and roughly locked my arms behind my back with a set of heavy handcuffs – I guessed that they were made just like the ankle shackles as it seemed that they were locked in the same manner.

They dragged me along the courtyard and out to an area not far from the main construction work.  We stopped in front of what I thought was a manhole cover and they again forced me to my knees.  The cover was held in place by half a dozen large bolts and, once removed, revealed a heavy grate.  They removed the grate and proceeded to place me down in the opening.  I struggled but it only made the manhandling worse.  I was being placed in what can only be described as a drum – slightly larger than a 50 gallon drum – that was set in the ground.  Once I was fully shoved inside the grate was securely locked in place.  I was squatting and hunched over.  The grate pressed hard against my shoulder blades and my knees were almost tight to my chin.  There wasn’t any room to try to sit down or turn around – I was crammed in like a sardine.  I would have laughed at that thought if I hadn’t already started to panic.

The guard must have knelt down to speak to me.  “This is a reminder, 02185, that you will always do as instructed.  We do not repeat orders.  You are never to look one of us in the eye again.  I think this will also serve as a nice introduction to your new life here with us – I don’t think that you have fully accepted your imprisonment, yet.”  I was then plunged into darkness as the manhole cover was slammed down and the bolts were screwed back in place.  I couldn’t move at all.

My first thought was how long they would keep me like this.  As my eyes adjusted I could see a little bit of light – there must have been small openings in the manhole cover.  It didn’t help reduce the growing feeling of claustrophobia.  As time passed I become more and more aware of how tightly I was crammed into this drum.  My arms started to ache from being pulled back in such an awkward position and my knees were beginning to hurt.  Soon, I knew, my lower back would start to hurt from the strain of the weird angle I was squatting in.

I began to panic and started to scream into the gag.  Even in my state of fear, I knew that no one could hear me even in they were standing right on the manhole cover – the gag was too effective.  Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that this was a pretty severe punishment for a few simple slip-ups on the first day of my confinement.  I could hardly imagine what type of punishment a more serious offense would bring.

As the day wore on the drum began to get warmer.  It was located where there was no shade at all and, even thought it was buried in the ground, was getting hot rapidly.  The heat only added to the torment of the claustrophobic prison – I was finding it harder and harder to breathe and sweat was running off of me.  My body was in agony from being forced to squat in the tight confines of the drum and I was starting to fade in and out of consciousness.  Eventually I noticed a change – it was the lack of noise from outside.  I didn’t realize it, but all of the construction work had been noticeable in the background – but now it must have stopped.  Did that mean it was lunchtime or was it already the end of the workday?  How long had I been crammed in this hell hole?  As time passed I also noticed that I could no longer see any light at all.  It could only mean that it was dark outside and had been in this drum all day – I struggled and screamed again – they couldn’t possibly leave me in this thing all night.  There was no way that I could make it. I was sure that I was already dehydrating and the heat was not dissipating at all.

I barely realized that the manhole cover was being removed – the daylight blasted into the hole making me grunt into the gag.  I could hear talking above me, but couldn’t make out the words – I could only hope that they were going to remove me from this drum.  As the grate was removed the pressure on my shoulders was released and hands grabbed me under my arms and started to pull me out of the pit.  I moaned in pain as they dragged me onto the ground and dropped me hard on my side.  I didn’t have the strength to stretch out although my joints screamed for it.  I was roughly hauled to the place in the courtyard where the same guard was waiting.  Several guards held me upright as he announced to the other prisoners that the workday was about to begin – he must have pointed at me as he said; “I assume that no one wants to take 02185’s place in the pit today?  Get to work”

I don’t remember how I got back to my cell, but I regained consciousness on the cool concrete floor.  I was wet and there were bottles of water on the floor – they must have hosed me off before bringing me back.  I tried to move but my joints screamed.  I struggled to get some water – I was so thirsty – and my jaws ached from the gag.  Eventually I was able to stretch a little and ease some of the worst stiffness.  My one attempt at standing got me no further than rolling onto my side before I collapsed on agony.  I wasn’t so sure that I would ever be able to get up.

By the time the cell door opened again, I had managed to crawl to the bunk and had propped myself up against it – still sitting on the floor.  There was no way that I could get up to stand at attention as ordered, so I simply looked down at the floor.  All I could see were two sets of combat boots.  “Prisoner 02185 you will be ready to report for work detail first thing tomorrow morning.  It is now 15:15.”

I managed a weak, “Sir, yes sir.”

“The fact that you are not standing at attention is noted and will be dealt with at the time of any further disobedience.  Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir”

“You will present yourself at attention in the morning and be ready for work detail.  Any slack and further punishment will be administered.  Is that clear?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!”

Both guards left, locking the door behind them.  I couldn’t even stand, how the hell was I going to be able to work in the morning?  I struggled to raise myself off of the floor and stand.  After some effort I was finally able to get upright and stretch – my knees, back and shoulders were in agony, but moving was starting to loosen them up.  I drank more water and was able to eat when the dinner tray was shoved into the room.  I felt a little better after that and paced a few times in the cell to continue to get my muscles working again; then collapsed onto the bunk and passed-out.

Although probably not as fast as was acceptable, I managed to get to attention shortly after the cell door was opened.  My body was screaming in pain. But there was no way that I wanted to see that hole in the ground again.  We were marched out to the courtyard, counted off, and I was assigned to a work group leader.  He knew that I had been on the pit and gave me the job of gopher for the day.  By noon I was feeling OK – my muscles were sore, but I was able to get around without too much pain.  It was hot and there was no shade; I knew that I was already sunburned before we were able to stop for a quick meal.  I had the job of cleaning up after everyone in our workgroup so I was the last one back in to the courtyard for the evening roll call.  We were marched back to the cells and locked-in for the night.

Every day was more of the same.  We were outside working first thing in the morning and didn’t stop until after sundown.  Since it was summer I guessed that it was from about 5:30 am to about 8:30 or 9 at night.  We worked all day every day.  We always heard the floatplanes before we saw them flying low over the camp before landing in the lake. At least two times a day they came in bringing in supplies that the camp needed.  One day a large, flat barge was floated to the lodge.  There were so many interconnected lakes that it must have come from the city – which was several hours away as the crow flies. It was filled with rebar, bags of cement, and other building supplies.  The other prisoners said that the main supplies came in this way.  It took us almost a full day to unload everything under the close supervision of the guards who did nothing to hide the fact that they were armed.

There were never any showers – once every few days we were able to get hosed off and get clean uniforms.  Most of the time I stunk worse than a million locker rooms – it got so that I didn’t even notice it.  The rainy days were the worst – working in the trenches pouring the concrete for the new cells became nothing but a muddy mess.  There was no stopping the work, though, rain or not.  After a downpour we spent hours shoveling out the mud so that the work could continue.  Slowly cells were added one-by-one.  Special work crews did the plumbing, the electrical, and a group of guards set the cell doors in place as each was completed.

Every few days one or more prisoners would be waiting in the courtyard in the morning for the head guard to dole out punishments.

A few weeks passed (maybe more?) in a blur.  We were heading back to the cells after another work day.  Everyone kept their heads down and watched the feet of the prisoner in front of them.  I had just passed through the first set of double-locked doors on the way down to the cells when I heard my number being called.  I stepped out of line and stood at attention against the nearest wall – making sure that I was staring at my feet.  The guard’s boots came into view as he stepped closer.  I felt him reach out and grab my collar.  “This collar really does suit you.  Don’t you think?”  My head jerked up before I knew what I was doing and I looked right into Danny’s brown eyes.  He was wearing the camo BDU’s, combat boots, and olive t-shirt that all of the guards wore.  What the hell was this all about?

“Prisoner 02185 will be going on report for failing to obey.  He is looking me right in the eye even as I speak.” Danny said to another guard just down the corridor, “I think that he also has a previous infraction that was let slide, but let’s make sure we put that on this one as well.  I wouldn’t want the prisoner to think that we were letting him get away with anything.” His grin was humorless as he looked at me.  “02185, you are still looking at me.”

I slowly dropped my eyes, “Sir, sorry sir. I was surprised to see you, sir.”

“Prisoner 02185 was surprised to see me.  I would have thought that he would have suspected that I would be here in the camp.” He leaned in closer so that only I could hear him.  “Prisoner 02185 I sincerely hope that you are enjoying your imprisonment here.  Something you always yearned for is how I think it was phrased to me.  We’re such a short ways into your sentence, but I already wish that we could make it longer for you.  I’m not sure that you will get the full flavor of imprisonment in such a short time.  I think it is fair to tell you, however, that I have made sure that you are treated specially – you will always receive the harshest punishment for any offense.  I would hate to think that you missed out on anything while you are here!”

He leaned back, still holding onto my collar.  “I don’t get to work with the prisoners directly, but I thought that I would see how you were doing.  Too bad you failed to obey the simplest commands, though.  Hope you enjoy the rest of your sentence!”

As he turned to walk away I lashed out at him, but the other guard stopped me before I could even reach him.  I was dropped to the floor by a blow to the side of my head and saw Danny’s smiling face as he bent down.  “That was pretty stupid.  Hitting a guard will definitely get you all the special attention that you crave!”  He walked away leaving the other guards to drag me deeper into the cell block.

I struggled against the guards but it only made them that much rougher.  I don’t know what I was trying to gain – I knew that no matter what I wasn’t going to be able to get away from them and even if I did I wouldn’t get more than a few feet.  I swore but eventually just gave in and let them drag me along the corridor.  If I was expecting to be thrown back into my cell, I was sorely mistaken.  Before we reached the cell block they pulled me into a side passage that was secured by two sets of heavy steel doors – each closing and locking behind us before the next would open.  The corridor that we entered was dimly lit and smelled of mildew, urine and sweat.  It was short and there were only a few cell doors on each side of the hall – they seemed heavier than those in the cell blocks and rust was evident.

We reached a small alcove set in the wall and they pulled my uniform off before forcing me to my knees.  There was a workbench in the alcove and I could see various sets of shackles and other equipment in the work surface.  They locked on a pair of heavy wrist cuffs that were joined by a short chain, removed the ankle shackles and replaced them with a heavier set that also had a very short chain.  After pulling me to my feet they proceeded to connect the leg irons to the wrist manacles with a short chain that was also attached to the collar.  When they were done I could just barely stand upright and would only be able to walk in a slow shuffle.  Even if I could take longer steps, the weight of the irons themselves would make it difficult to move very fast.  The last thing they locked on was a muzzle similar to the one that I had been forced to wear in the pit those weeks ago; the gag filled my mouth so completely that I couldn’t even move my tongue.  My gag reflex kicked in but there was nothing that I could do but wait it out.  No matter what happened to me I knew that they would not remove the muzzle.

I was then led to one of the cell doors which opened into what was basically a cement block closet.  They turned me around and pushed me ass-first into the small chamber.  There were short chains bolted to the back wall that were locked to the collar, the ankle irons and even to the wrist cuffs.  Without saying a word they closed the heavy steel door which ended up only inches from my face.  I was plunged into complete darkness.  It had all happened so quickly that none of it really registered until a few moments after the cell door was locked – I was naked, chained inside a concrete cell that allowed no movement to speak of, and unable to make any noise above an agonizing moan.  The dampness settled on me and I started to shiver.  My feet were already cold on the raw concrete floor.  I knew that I would be in this cell for a long time.

There was no noise and no light – I was effectively cut off – and no one would come for me except the guards.  I was helpless and become increasingly more agitated.  I knew that I shouldn’t have tried to hit Danny or fight against the other guards.  I accepted that.  But how could I not have looked up into his eyes when he had spoken to me?  I was surprised to hear his voice, surprised to see him dressed in a guard’s uniform, and (I think) some small part of me wanted to drown in his deep brown eyes.  How had I gotten myself into this whole mess?  How could he have done this to me?  His pleasure at seeing me as a prisoner was obvious in his eyes – even for the few short moments that I had gazed into them.  He must be a sadistic bastard to think that I – or anyone – would enjoy being treated this way.  How had he misinterpreted my fantasies into believing that this is something that I yearned for?

I pissed on myself – what choice did I have?  It would be a long time before they would release me to use a toilet; of that I had no doubt.  The smell mingled with the mold and damp making the word dungeon come to mind.  I was able to rest my head against the door by leaning slightly forward. I guessed that eventually I would pass out from exhaustion and would sleep standing up.  Left in the cold and dark with only my thoughts – I ran through the last few weeks over and over.  Once I had gotten into the work routine it really hadn’t been that bad.  The collar and shackles were a constant reminder of my status as a prisoner but they were tolerable.  The thought of never being able to escape until my sentence was completed had, for some reason, settled into the back of my mind as exciting.  I had endured the torment of the pit and it made me conform to the rules with great caution.  I realized that I had become very compliant and even subservient – the guards were the masters and I was their slave.  As these thoughts ran through my head I was horrified to feel my dick grow erect.  What the hell?!  Slowly I came to realize that Danny had been right; I did yearn to be treated as a prisoner with no chance of escape.  But now I had fallen into something much deeper and I was very fearful of what was in store for me.

Time became irrelevant.  I was cold, sore, and growing more thirsty by the moment.  The gag was a constant torment and my mouth had grown so dry that I couldn’t even swallow.  There was nothing to take my mind off of every point of discomfort and I grew more and more despondent.  I had thrashed against the chains but succeeded only in wearing myself out.  I faded in and out of sleep.  Waking with a start, disoriented, until I remembered where I was.  No sound.  No light.  No respite.

As time passed the agony grew.  I was beginning to believe that they might just leave me here until I died.  Who would ever know what happened to me?  The other prisoners had no idea where the guards had taken me.  Because of the strict policies and solitary cells there was almost no communication between the prisoners, anyway – so no one even knew who I was.  Did the guards just want me out of the way?  Did Danny’s comment about making sure I experienced the worst mean that I was truly meant to suffer this much?

I strained to hear any noise from the corridor, but could only hear my ragged breathing and the clinking of the chains as I moved – trying to reduce the discomfort even a little.  Eventually I was startled by the sound of the locks on the door being opened.  My heart leapt – I was going to be released from this hell.  I knew that I was broken and would no longer attempt to resist or disobey.  I wanted nothing more at that point than to beg for forgiveness for my screw up – even though in the back of my mind I still thought that it didn’t warrant such a harsh punishment.

The meager light form the corridor was blinding after being in the absolute darkness for so long.  The guards just stood and stared at me for the longest time and I was pleading with my eyes for release.  After some unspoken agreement they began to unchain me from the cell’s walls.  I fell heavily to the floor and they made no attempt to stop me.  The impact of the fall sent shockwaves of pain through my body – my joints burned from the long period of restraint and I had no strength.  They let me slumped on the floor for a while before dragging me down the corridor.  The concrete scraped my legs and knees and they could have cared less.

Surprisingly, they removed the heavy restraints and replaced the ankle irons with the pair that I had been wearing since arriving.  Of course, the collar wasn’t removed.  I couldn’t stand on my own – let alone walk – so they grabbed me under the arms and dragged me down the corridor.  The skin on the tops of my feet was being ripped by the rough concrete floor as we went.  We didn’t go far, though.  A cell door a few dozen paces down was open and they dragged me inside.  There was a cot on one side and a table on the other.  There was water and food on the table – my mouth would have watered, but I was dehydrated and the gag was still filling my mouth.

The sat me on the cot, undid the gag and removed it – my jaws were on fire as it was pulled out and I was able to close my mouth for the first time in what seemed like days. They left the cell, leaving me to slump on the cot.  I didn’t have the strength to sit-up or pull myself further onto the mattress that felt like heaven.  It took me a few moments to realize that the cell door hadn’t been closed and a few more moments to notice that someone was standing in the opening watching me.  My eyes still had not adjusted to even the dim light so I couldn’t make out any of his features.  Slowly he walked into the cell and bent over me.  “02185 you’ll stay here until you are recovered enough to walk.  Then a decision will be made regarding what will happen to you.”

I recognized the voice.  The tone was hard, but it was Danny.  “A prisoner that strikes a guard isn’t fit for the general population of this camp, but work needs to be done.  There are, however, work details for disruptive prisoners.  You, 02185, will most likely find yourself in one of those details.  Certainly they are less pleasant, but there is a need to continue the punishment for your misconduct.  It is now necessary to continually remind you that you are not a free man, you are not in charge, you do not have rights, and you must learn to obey the rules.”

He bent closer. “Sadly 02185, this also means that your sentence has been extended.”  He turned away and left the cell.  I tried to say something to him, beg him to let me go – but I couldn’t make a sound through the dry desert that was my mouth.

A guard returned leading another prisoner into the cell.  The guy was muzzled as I had been, so we couldn’t speak.  He helped me to drink and eat.  They brought him back once more to help before leaving me to recover on my own.  All I could think of were Danny’s words about my sentence being extended.  What did that mean and how could they just keep me here – I had a life to get back to.  My vacation days would be gone soon enough and if I wasn’t back at work I wouldn’t have a job.

The scrapes on my legs, feet and knees scarred over by the time they came for me.  I hadn’t been able to wash for who knows how long – I had no desire to waste a drop of water on hygiene while I continued to recover.  I had been naked so long that I no longer even noticed.  They frog marched me through the maze of corridors until we came to an opening to the courtyard.  The sun was setting and there were no other prisoners in sight.  The sun burned into my retinas like a laser, but it felt so good on my skin – which had grown pale.  They hosed me off like an animal but it felt wonderful.  I was allowed to dress in a prison uniform – it was neither new nor clean, but served its purpose.

A few minutes later a group of 5 other prisoners was led out into the courtyard.  We were lined up and told that we would be working in the new trenching area.  As they expanded further they were running into areas of large rocks and the needed them broken into smaller pieces to be removed.  I couldn’t believe it; we were actually going to be breaking rocks.  What the hell!  The guards locked us together be pretty short chains to the ankle shackles then marched us to the trenching area that we would be working on and told us to get comfortable; we’d be sleeping out here from now on.  Nothing but the ground to sleep on.  This was so we could get started at first light and work until it was too dark to see.

And that is what we did.  Very few breaks were allowed and the sledges we used were heavier than hell.  Luckily the weather was getting cooler – fall was in the air.

It was a full week or so later that things began to change around the camp.  Work slowed on new trenching as the previous sections were built-out and covered over.  I could see groups of prisoners being marched out of the courtyard as float planes took them back to whatever prison that they had come from.  Each group had their manacles removed and I began to hate them for their freedom.

I knew that I had exceeded my vacation time as the leaves turned; it had to be into mid-September already.  I was sickened by the fact that I had more than likely lost my job.  They kept us working every day as more and more groups were flown out.  I kept searching for Danny in the groups of guards hoping against hope that he would finally end this nightmare for me.  I hated him for what he had done to me.  Any previous thoughts and feelings that I had somehow wanted or needed this experience were long gone.  I had started to beg the guards to have Danny come and talk to me, but they told me to shut up and cut a break out of the day as punishment.  The other guys that I was chained to despised me for that and went out of their way to add to my misery.

When there seemed to be no other prisoners left the guards brought us in.  By that time the nights were getting cold and we were actually huddling together to stay warm while we slept.  I had thought I was miserable before – now I knew it could always get worse.

I was separated from the other guys when we were finally unchained.  They were led toward the main cell area and I was left in the courtyard, forced to kneel, watched over by a lone guard.  Eventually the other guys came out – showered and in clean uniforms without their shackles locked on. There were a few nods in my direction as they were led outside.  A short while I heard the roar of a floatplane engine as they, too, were flown out.

I began to realize that I was probably the last prisoner here.  My hope was that Danny was getting ready to leave and they were making me wait for him – and that he would take me with him.  And he did come.  In the twilight I saw him come out of the guard’s quarters and walk toward me.  He was still in is BDU’s, which worried me.

I quickly dropped my eyes to the ground – a reflex now.  “Who are you?” he asked.

“Sir, prisoner 02185, sir” I replied quietly.

“And have you enjoyed your summertime confinement?”

“Sir, I cannot say that I have enjoyed it at all, sir”

“And what do you think should happen now?”

“Sir, I was hoping that I had earned my release, sir”

“Mmmm, earned your release.  Interesting phrase.  Do you think prisoners can actually earn their release?  Or do you think that they serve their time based on their sentence?”

“Sir, I guess they have to serve their time, sir”

“Exactly 02185.  Do you think that you have completed your sentence?”

“Sir, I do not know because I do not know why I was sentenced or how long I was sentenced for, sir”

“Fair enough.  I will tell you, though, that your original sentence was brief.  I did make sure that you were under a magnifying glass from the beginning.  Every minor infraction was punished pretty severely.  But you really didn’t learn from your mistakes.  Yes, you were surprised about this place and being imprisoned here, but you also should have been able to follow the rules.”  I was staring at his boots as he walked closer.  “That is why your sentence was extended and then extended again.  And now you think you have served your time?”

“Sir, I hope so, sir”

“Well, 02185, you haven’t completed your sentence.  Even after it all, you still were begging the guards to come and get me – causing the other prisoners to be punished along with you.  That, too, added time to your sentence.  Like I said, you never seemed to learn or maybe you thought you were somehow special – I really don’t know”

“Sir, I didn’t think I was special. I was just overwhelmed and scared, sir”

“Doesn’t matter.  A small crew of guards and staff remain at this camp over the winter.  Making sure everything is kept up and the generators are running to keep the heat on – whatever.  So you will remain here to as our first official full-time prisoner.  In a year or so this place will be full with inmates all year around and you will always have the honor of being the first.  Exciting isn’t it?”

I think I knew this was coming, but it stung me just the same.  My life was over as I knew it and this asshole ruined it.  There was no use in even getting upset; there wasn’t anything I could do.  Who would care that I was here unfairly anyway?  There wasn’t a prisoner in the world that didn’t profess his innocence.  And I was sure that somewhere there was paperwork with my name on it proving that I was incarcerated here for some reason or another.  What difference did it make?

“Sir,” I said, “I will honestly say that it is not an honor.  I do not think that I belong here any longer.  Please, Danny, please tell me this is a bad joke, please!”

“02185 this isn’t a joke.  Even now you still screw up.  Calling a guard by their name is a serious failure of respect.  It seemed that your sentence was going to be over in spring.  Although I don’t make those decisions, I would guess that you will be here through next summer at least.  You realize that I do have to report this breach of discipline, don’t you?”

“Sir, yes, sir”

“Good.  I’ll be leaving with the last group tomorrow morning.  If it makes you feel any better I will be thinking about you.  You do not have to answer that.”

He turned to walk away calling to the other guard, “Take 02185 inside and get him cleaned up and in a new cell.  He has earned that privilege.”

The last I saw of him was his back as he closed the door to the guard’s quarters.

 

THE END

They had asked me to house sit for them at their new place so that they could take a trip over to Italy and maybe look for a Villa in the hill country.  I had house sat for them before and they paid well, so i was happy to oblige.

I was on summer break and didn’t have to start my internship until almost the end of August, so I had plenty of time.  John and Tim were partners and had lived together for almost 6 years.  They really were a perfect couple – handsome, fit, and (for best for me) wealthy.

I had met them at the college gym last year.  I was ogling them both as they worked out and they commented on how obvious I was being, but we ended up laughing about my slobbering tongue.  We talked often at the gym – they began to help out with my routine – they were great coaches and my body started to get pretty toned.  Not beefcake or over the top muscle – but solid.  We got to know each other a bit and that was when they had first asked me to house sit at their old place.

It was a good gig, they paid me to basically watch TV and make sure the yard was mowed and watered.  They had a housekeeper for the heavy cleaning – she came once a month, so I just had to keep the dust bunnies down.  They were usually gone for several weeks at a time and it was a great way to earn some cash while still being able to go to classes.

Their house was modern, but comfortable.  They had every electronic device known to man and everything was automated.  They talked a lot about the new house that they were building and how it would be even more wired.  I wasn’t sure how much more automation you could add to what they had in their first place, but it was kinda cool.  Sneaking around a bit when they were gone had led me to discover that they had a serious kinky side.  I never mentioned it, but they had some great bondage gear in a pretty well set-up play room in the basement.  Yes, I played with some of it from time to time, but it wasn’t much fun alone.  I jacked off to fantasies of them locking me up in that dungeon room frequently while I house sat for them!

Lately, it seemed that they were paying more and more attention to me at the gym.  Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, they had never made any overt sexual advances (not that I would have minded), but they often made me feel like an object.  Like they were sculpting a statue or something – my mind tends to run off that way – so I think it was just all the flattery going to my head.

So anyway, I arrived at their front door with my duffle bag in-hand to be met by Tim who was crabby as hell about me being late and the fact that they now were going to miss their flight.

“Cutting it a little close aren’t you, Brad?” He said.

“I’m sorry, traffic was bad.”

He just stormed away.  John came over. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got time to get to the airport, the car isn’t here yet, anyway – but I don’t have much time to show you around so you can explore on your own.” He handed me a list of items to look out after. Bring in the mail – that kind of thing. Then he told me: “Listen you have complete run of the house, but please stay out of the basement.  We’ve got some work to do down there yet and there’s nothing down there that you have to worry about – OK?”

I said OK, but I was already wondering about the playroom in their last house – I was imagining something far grander in their new place – or maybe it was just a construction zone?  No way I was going to let on that I had snuck into their old one by asking questions about the basement!

John continued “The fridge is stocked. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ve put my cell phone number on the bottom of the list.  It’s for the satellite phone, call if it’s an emergency – otherwise leave a message at my office, I’ll be checking in periodically. We’ve gotta go.” Before walking out the door, Tim threw me his keys at me and said “Don’t burn the place down!”

Standing at the window, I waived them goodbye. Afterward, I headed for the kitchen for a beer.  I had a snack and started to play with the new touch screens that were everywhere in the house.  From anyone I could see who was at the front door, who was in the garden, what the temperature of the pool was (cool, they had a pool!), change the music, open and close all the drapes and blinds, turn all the lights on and off, lock and unlock all the doors – the whole house was controllable – which was fucking cool!

I wandered through the house getting the lay of the land.  It was big – but not ostentatious – high-end everything, but all in good taste.  It was meant to resemble an old country estate, so the walls were thick as hell and solid brick, but they had opened it up quite a bit with recessed windows.  It really was comfortable.  The electronics just blended in.

Now, I have to admit. I was curious about the basement. I thought. “No harm in just looking!”  I used the touch pad to turn on the lights before proceeding down to the basement. It was hardly a work zone!  The first room was a large gym-like space.  Plenty of equipment, free weights, and beautiful hardwood floors that made it look like an old high school gym.  I would get a lot of use out of this space for the next few weeks!

I passed through a hallway that had some unfinished storage rooms on wither sides before opening the door to what was indeed a playroom – it was beyond imagination.  There were racks of restraints, cages, and equipment of every kind.  Off to one side there was another room that looked more like a prison cell than anything else. The walls were covered with some type of metallic mesh.  As I backed out into the main playroom I noticed the same mesh covered the walls there too.  Weird.  I didn’t think too much about it.

There was a large cabinet in one corner that was slightly ajar – it was lit from within.  I realized that the lights in the room had come on automatically when I entered – the cabinet must have lit up too.

Now, I have to admit that my curiosity is going at full tilt.  I pulled the door open and found a small workbench area.  There were some tools, some electronic gizmos, and a device that had been the subject of my fantasies for years – a really cool looking chastity device.  It was made of thick polished metal that entirely covered the crotch. A long tube was built into the front shield which had to be where the penis slipped into. There was also what appeared to be a cradle like area for the balls.  The rear was open for access to the ass and there were straps – similar in look to a jock strap – that ran from the back of the belt.  It was solid, heavy, and was making me horny as hell!  The front area that appeared to hold the locking mechanism was very intricate.  There was a key sitting on the workbench that fit the lock.

I was working myself up to try it on, but I had to make sure that it would come off.  Thinking for a minute – I ran back upstairs to one of the touch pads and made sure all the doors were locked and the house was in “night mode.”  That way no one would just walk in on me while I was downstairs “playing1”

When I got back downstairs I thought, “What harm could there be in trying it on. I’ll clean it up after I take it off.” I quickly removed my jeans and underwear and positioned the belt on myself. I inhaled a bit and then with a little pressure. “Click”.

I was surprised at how well it actually did fit. It was very secure. I couldn’t get my fingers under the front plate, nor would the belt budge a bit. Quite an unusual feeling!  It fit just like it had been made for me – I guess Tim was pretty close to my size, so it must have been made for him – I just couldn’t imagine anyone wearing this for any length of time, though. It would drive me crazy!!!

After admiring the belt, I decided it was time to take it off and get on to other things.  My dick was trying to get hard inside the thing and it hurt like hell – I wanted it off so I could jack off!  I grabbed the key and stuck it in the locking mechanism, but it wouldn’t turn at all.  I futzed with it, shoved it in and out a few times, twisted it as hard as I could but it wouldn’t turn.  Shit!  I settled down a bit and tried to think of what to do – I’m sure there were tools in the garage.  Maybe I could cut it off or something and offer to somehow repay them for it.  I just wanted it off!  As I pulled the key out for the last time I thought I heard an electronic buzz from the belt, but it must have been my imagination.

As I approached the doorway to leave the room there was a sudden, ZAP!!!! I fell to the ground in the most pain I have ever experienced. It was like someone took a stun gun right to my genitals.

It took me a while to gain my strength and composure back. “What the fuck happened?” Still feeling the remnants of the shock, I again moved toward the door. ZAP!!! I fell to the floor, motionless not knowing what to do. “Shit, what is this thing!” Realizing that this wasn’t just an ordinary chastity belt, it was some type of device meant to keep someone in this room.

I tried several more times to get through the door, but each time the shocks got worse.  I was left sweating and in tears on the floor – in a panic.

Then the door closed.  I hadn’t notice the automatic closer before, but I had seen them upstairs.  The automated system had closed the door on me.  Not that I could leave the room anyway – but now it was worse.  A few moments later the room lights went out – making bad go to worse in a damn hurry.

I sat in the dark whimpering, when I noticed a steadily brightening panel on the far wall.  It was a recessed display panel – Tim was looking back at me from the panel.  “Well, Brad, you certainly didn’t waste any time a tall did you?  We haven’t even made it to the plane and you already have found our little toy room.  We thought we’d have at least until tomorrow before we were alerted of your intrusion.  No matter, the end is the same.”

As he spoke additional panels lit up on either side of the first.  My trek through the house was shown in vivid detail – there were cameras everywhere it seemed.  I watched myself walk into this room and eventually find the chastity belt.  I cringed as I watched myself lock it on and try to get it off.  The screens then started to replay my torment as I was shocked over and over again.  It was a continuous loop.

From the middle screen Tim just laughed. “We really needed a new toy to play with, you know.  You were so easy to mold into just what we wanted – not that you didn’t have a great foundation to work with.  You are one hot kid, after all.  The gym just outside that room will help us to keep you just as trim and toned as ever – and we’ll be able to fuck the shit out of you whenever we want.  You’ll also prove useful for testing some of our new inventions – like the one that you are wearing.  Although that one is going to remain locked on until we feel that you have earned your release.”

The other screens continued to loop through the torment, but the pain in my crotch was now real again.  The device was ramping up and I was screaming in pain.  “Just a sample of what it can do, Brad.  Now walk over to that small room off to the side.  It is a cell and it was made just for you.”

I didn’t get up, but was rewarded with ever increasing pain. When it reduced for a bit, I dragged myself across the floor towards the room – the shocks stopped entirely.  A reward, I guess, for doing as told.  When I reached the room I noticed the toilet and cot that I hadn’t really paid attention to before.  It was a cell, indeed.

I jumped a bit as a barred door slid shut behind me locking firmly in place.  The shocks started again, but milder.  From the screen Tim said, “Get comfortable.  As long as you stay away from the cell door there will be no punishment.  It is really simple, just do as you’re told and you will always be rewarded.”

As he spoke, the walls, floor, and ceiling of the cell lit up – they were all display screens.  “We’ll be back home in a few hours to tend to you, in the meantime relax.  We have a little greatest hits medley for you to watch in the meantime.  We will, of course, have to punish you later for making us miss our trip to Italy – but that’s for the future.”

His face was replaced with video of me.  Every screen was video of me jacking off at various times in their old house.  Me in the playroom, me in the bedroom, me in the movie room watching porn, me in the shower – from every angle – the videos just keep looping and looping and looping.  I couldn’t even close my eyes.  And only once, Tim’s voice. “Oh yes, Brad, we always knew.  We’ll have so much fun with you!”

 

THE END

 

NOTE: This story was inspired by a similar one involving opposite sex participants, which was posted to the Altarboy chastity site. For more information, contact Metalbond.

By PrisonerX

Part 1

It was that time of year again. The long winter had passed and as spring was moving towards summer, Sandro knew it was time for his motorbike to have its annual service.

His thoughts turned to the first time he had taken his bike to the motorcycle centre which was about 80km from the city in which he lived. That was a weekend he would never forget. Although he knew when he first arranged to go to the centre, that it offered more than a bike service, he had not expected quite everything that he experienced that weekend. Such was his experience that he agreed, (rather hastily he thought afterwards), to take a job as “escort” (as the owner of the centre, Dirk, called them), which meant having to travel there practically every weekend. Indeed, he found himself obliged to return there on a regular basis as the circumstances of his departure left him with little or no alternative.

He thought about the last moments of his first visit just before he set off for home. It all came back to him…….the metal cock cage was locked back in place. He tried to object but Dirk had interrupted him saying, “you agreed to take the job of escort including all it entailed. I hold the key to your belt so I reckon we can be sure of your attendance here next weekend and every weekend after that! And don’t worry about wearing the belt, you will get used to it. Ask the other escorts”.

Sandro looked at the escorts expecting a reply. But there was just silence. He said to them, “have you nothing to say?” They had nodded their heads in silence and as they did so they removed their helmets, revealing their hooded heads and the fact that they couldn’t speak as they were tightly gagged. Dirk had just smiled and repeated, “I did say all it entailed”.

That was a year ago and a lot had changed since then, not least the fact that his manhood was no longer imprisoned in a metal cage. Sandro came to regret his acceptance of the job of escort. He realised that he had been far too hasty and knew he had been thinking with his cock rather than his head. It was just not practical or desirable to have to spend most weekends at the bike centre. He had his life to lead, with many friends and interests, all of which he would miss if he spent his free time at the bike centre.

But he faced a dilemma. Since returning home, he had to deal with the fact that he was wearing a metal chastity belt from which there was no escape without the key. His most intimate functions as a male were no longer in his control and this he found intolerable. There was the inconvenience of course but most of all he was unable to relieve any sexual feelings which was not something he was used to. But Dirk had the keys……..

After nearly a week living as a neutered male, and now not looking forward to his first weekend as an “escort” at the bike centre, Sandro returned home one evening after work to find an email waiting for him from Dirk. His heart sank, as he expected it to contain his instructions for the weekend but as he read it, his heart leapt in joy. It did indeed contain Dirk’s instructions for the weekend, but in it, Dirk said he expected him to travel to the bike centre on Saturday “so that I can unlock the belt after which you are free to return home”. Sandro was not going to question this. It was the best news he had had all week. He was no longer obliged to work as an “escort”; he was free to do as he pleased at the weekends.

So on that Saturday, he set out for the bike centre first thing and within the hour had arrived. Dirk greeted him and led him through the door at the back of the workshop into the area he remembered from his last visit. Dirk told him to drop his leather bike pants thus exposing his imprisoned cock, and within seconds the belt was unlocked . Sandro felt a wave of relief as he saw his manhood for the first time in a week. Dirk explained to him that he had locked him in chastity merely as a mind play and that he would not expect him to work at the bike centre every weekend. But, noting that Sandro had not contacted him demanding immediate release from the belt, he hoped that that was an indication that he would continue to use the bike centre to service his bike and all that went with it.

Sandro confirmed that he was happy with the service he had received and that he intended to return again when the next service was due the following year. As he left, Dirk said to him, “just email when you want to make an appointment and I shall make the necessary arrangements without further reference to you. All you have to do is show up,” he concluded with a slight smile on his face.

That was a year ago and now Sandro was on his way to the bike centre on a Saturday morning in late spring. He had turned off the autobahn and was just a few kilometres from the small town where the bike centre was. As he rounded a bend in the road, he saw what looked like a police road check up ahead. He was not unduly concerned as he was not breaking any speed limit and his driving licence was clean. Approaching the road check, he noticed two police motorcycles parked beside a police car. A motorcycle policeman raised his hand and Sandro brought his bike to a stop. As he dismounted and pulled his bike onto its stand, the policeman approached him and was joined by another policeman. Both were wearing crash helmets with reflective visors so obscuring their faces. The first policeman addressed him asking him to remove his crash helmet. As he did so, Sandro was grabbed from behind, his hands were cuffed behind him and as he made to shout a ball gag was pushed into his mouth and fastened tightly. All went dark as a heavy duty spandex hood was pulled over his head. He was pushed forward and felt himself being lifted up and eased into the boot of the police car. As he tried to kick out, he felt his booted ankles being grabbed and leg cuffs being attached. There was a soft thud as the boot lid was closed. The engine started and Sandro felt the car begin to move.

For a moment, Sandro was confused as everything had happened so quickly. One moment he was on his bike, the next he was lying hooded, gagged and cuffed in the boot of a police car. Or was it a police car? He realised he had not seen the faces of the motorcycle policemen as they approached him. What was this? Had he been kidnapped? He tried to struggle but the metal cuffs prevented him, if at all and the confines of the car boot left him with practically no room to move. He felt saliva dripping out of his gagged mouth and soaking into the hood tightly covering his head. In spite of his feelings of apprehension, his cock began to harden and stretch the fabric of his briefs.

Within minutes, Sandro felt the car slowing down and then coming to a halt. He heard doors opening and slamming and voices. He strained to listen……was that Dirk’s voice he heard? Not sure,  too indistinct. He felt a rush of cool air……..the boot lid was opening. As he was manhandled out of the boot, he tried to form some words, but the ball gag held fast and all that emerged from his mouth was an unintelligible mumble accompanied by dribbles of saliva. He was carried inside the building through the workshop where he heard sounds of mechanics at work. He now knew for certain that he was back at the bike centre although the manner of his arrival was not what he expected.

He heard the sound of the door at the back of the workshop opening, a sound he was familiar with from his first visit and one that was imprinted on his mind. His captors, (for that is what they were), put him down on the floor and then helped him to his feet. His cuffs, (ankle and wrist), were removed and he was stripped of his boots, socks and motorcycle leathers. Nobody had spoken a word. Again, Sandro, tried to form some words in order to speak, but once more his gag made it impossible for him to make any sense. He felt his cock stirring and starting to harden. He knew that, clad only in his briefs as he was, it would soon be noticeable to his captors. He tried to think of something else, anything to soften his cock but it was to no avail. As it swelled his briefs began to tent outwards but strangely his captors remained silent. Then Sandro remembered his last visit. Perhaps his captors were not the “policemen” who had kidnapped him. Maybe they were the “escorts” employed by Dirk. This seemed to make sense as his last vision of them, before he was released the last time, was of two hooded and tightly gagged men. This explained the silence now, he thought. He started, as a hand roughly caressed his erecting cock causing t to harden more. He  grunted into his gag as yet more saliva dribbled around the ball fixed in his mouth and dripped to the ground. As he did so, the hand caressing  his now rock hard cock pulled at the waistband of his briefs and ripped them off him. As this happened he grunted loudly again and he could hear muffled sounds emanating from the stuffed mouths of his captors. This was indeed a dialogue of the gagged.

His right was grabbed followed by his left and he felt some thick leather mitts being pulled over them and the sound of padlocks closing. His ankles were kicked apart and as he concentrated on keeping his balance a heavy duty leather harness was strapped around his torso and around his thighs. His mitted hands were locked to the harness on either side. His ankles were then pushed together and tightly bound by a stout leather strap as were his thighs, just above his knees. Then his captors, as if to make sure he couldn’t break free, adjusted each of the buckles and straps that made up the harness or restrained his legs. As they did so, Sandro’s cock stood erect, rock hard and now leaking pre-cum as if to mirror the continual dribble of saliva which was soaking into his hood.

Sandro was finding it difficult to maintain his balance as his ankles were tightly bound together and his wrists were padlocked fast to a leather strap encircling his waist. But that problem was solved for him as the part of the harness that crossed under and over his shoulders was connected to two chains hanging down from a horizontal bar , (which itself was hanging from the ceiling), above him. A motor started and Sandro felt himself being pulled upwards a little so that he was now forced to stand tip toe. A hand reached for his hood and it was pulled off which was a relief to him as it was getting increasingly damp from his ball gag induced saliva. Sandro blinked as the light hit his eyes  and saw for the first time where he was.

He was in a small cell like room with no windows and just a doorway which was blocked by a barred gate. His captors were, as he had thought, the “escorts” he remembered from his last visit. Clad from head to toe in black leather, wearing black leather gloves, they were hooded with only their eyes showing, and both wearing tight black gags secured behind by a padlock. This sight drove Sandro to ecstasy as his rock solid manhood twitched up and down as his pre-cum dripped, as if in slow motion, to the floor. One of his captors moved behind him and released his ball gag. His jaw was stiff from the intrusion in his mouth and he gingerly moved his jaws to relieve the stiffness. At that moment, he remembered his motorcycle. Where was it, he wondered? He asked his captors what had happened to his bike but was met by total silence. They were of course unable to speak.

Having removed his gag, the same captor then walked behind Sandro again and pulled a heavy duty leather hood over his head and having pulled the drawstrings tight, buckled the various straps securing each buckle with a padlock. Sandro could no longer see anything. He felt his lips being pushed apart as one of his captors inserted two fingers into his mouth forcing him to open it wide. As he did so, his ripped briefs were pushed into his mouth and secured in place by a leather strap which covered the mouth hole of the hood. At the same time, Sandro felt the hands of the other captor around his balls as he strapped a leather parachute around them. Sandro moaned into his gag, (for sure the gag belonged to him!), as the parachute chain was pulled downwards and secured by a tension line to the floor. The motor started again and Sandro was pulled upwards by a couple of centimetres. He was now suspended in mid air, hooded, gagged, securely bound and totally helpless. The tension line stretched and as it did so, it pulled his balls downward.

All this time his cock had remained rigid pointing upwards like a metal pole. The pre-cum dripping from it betrayed the high sexual arousal that the suspended victim was experiencing. Sandro was desperate to cum; he wanted to; he needed to. He tried to jerk his cock as if fucking the air, but all he succeeded in doing was to pull painfully on his balls, bound as they were in the parachute linked to the ground.

Sandro heard the sound of the barred door slamming and the locks being driven home. All was silent. He tried shouting out, but no sound emerged from his gagged mouth, but equally no saliva either, for what remained of his briefs, now stuffed humiliatingly in his mouth, soaked it up before it could drip.

Unknown and unseen by Sandro, Dirk was observing him through the barred door. As he did so he was issuing instructions to one of his mechanics about the service to be carried out on Sandro’s motorcycle. “While you look after the bike, I shall look after its faggot owner”, he chuckled as he watched the almost naked, leather bound, hooded and gagged victim, suspended and helpless desperately trying to avoid the slightest movement to prevent the parachute pulling tightly on his balls. One thing was obvious to any observer: the victim was most certainly male. His erect, rock hard, twitching, dripping and chained cock made that crystal clear!

 

Part 2

 

Sandro had no idea how long he remained suspended and bound. He could see nothing, hear nothing,  apart that is, from the sound of his own breathing. The tension line pulling his aching balls towards the ground remained taut and nothing he tried to do relieved this tension. His mouth, stuffed with cotton fabric began to feel dry. He tried again to shout for attention but no intelligible words formed. But uncomfortable as he was, with aching balls and a dry mouth, his manhood continued to stand to attention and his desire for some sexual relief did not diminish. His cock felt so hard that it was almost painful. He began to wish that he would lose his erection, but when he thought of the sight which met his eyes when the spandex hood was pulled off his head, his cock twitched and he thrust his pelvis forward as best he could in a vain attempt to achieve some relief. And so the cycle began all over again ending up with him trying to stop any movement to release the ever present tension on his balls. Sandro was left alone, suspended and struggling until the workshop closed, which on a Saturday,  was a little earlier than during the week.

As he began to wonder how much longer he would have to endure his dilemma, he heard the sound of voices and then the unlocking of the door. At once, he started to shout into his gag but, as usual, just a jumble of mumbled noise came out of his mouth. Suddenly the motor kicked into life and he felt himself being lowered slowly to the ground and being grabbed by somebody to help him steady himself after his hours of severe bondage. The straps restraining his legs were removed as was the body  harness, the waist belt and all the other bonds in which he was tied. To his great relief the parachute strapped to his ball was also taken off as were his mitts.

He was led out of his cell by, he thought, two people who, again, uttered not a sound. After a short walk he was pushed down onto a chair and the leather strap securing his gag was removed. He immediately spat out his gag and before he could ask, was given some water to drink. His hood was then removed and as his eyers adjusted to the light he saw he was seated at a wooden table in a brightly lit large room. One side of the room was lined with two rows of steel cages, one on top of the other. At first he thought that they were empty but, as his eyes scanned the top row, he saw what he realised were human forms in each of them. He looked at the cage immediately opposite him from which a leather covered head of a man protruded through an opening in the bars. The head had no features, other than a small hole where the mouth must be, enabling the victim to breathe. The victim was in a kneeling position, covered from head to toe in leather . Sandro could just make out that his ankles were secured to the floor of the cage at the back and saw that his hands, locked in mitts, also protruded through the bars either side of his head. The cage next to that contained a large canvass sack and, it appeared, nothing else. But as Sandro stared at this he noticed a slight movement and heard a grunting sound. There was somebody or something in the sack! A third cage slightly larger than the first two, and somehow different, but he didn’t dwell on that, was occupied by two guys. One was sitting with his back to one end of the cage while his legs stretched out towards the opposite end to which his ankles were secured by shackles. The other faced in the opposite direction restrained in the same manner. Their wrists were shackled and those shackles attached to steel collars around their necks. Each wore a head harness and although able to see, they could not speak. They were naked apart from heavy duty steel chastity belts which were locked around their waists.

Sandro was aware that his cock was standing vertically again as he took in the sight before him. All this time, his captors stood in silence watching him. All he could see of them were their eyes staring out from the eye holes in their hoods, their gags ensuring no communication was possible. Dressed all in black leather, the only other feature was a prominent bulge in the groin area. Their eyes continued to stare at him as he sat there stark bollock naked trying to conceal his rock hard cock under the table Soft moaning sounds continued to come from the sack while the muzzled occupant of the cage with two captives in it also stared silently at Sandro.

At last, the silence was broken by the arrival of Dirk accompanied by two guys. Unlike the others, these guys were wearing normal motorcycle leathers and boots and were chatting quietly with Dirk. Dirk explained to Sandro that his bike would be ready the next day but until then, he would provide overnight accommodation for him. “As you can see”, he said, “we already have some overnight guests staying. Maybe not the most luxurious accommodation but certainly quiet and secure. My assistants here will prepare you for your overnight stay. As we have had problems recently with some of our guests making a lot of noise as they seemed not to be happy with the accommodation offered to them, I have introduced what I call a “gagging order”. All guests are required to be gagged for the duration of their stay here”.

As he was saying this,  Dirk’s assistants moved towards Sandro and while one held him, the other strapped a leather head harness around his head which had a built in rather large gag. No less than three padlocks ensured Sandro would not be able to remove it. “I can see from your eyes, that you are not happy about this”, said Dirk, “but that is your hard luck. At least it will ensure peace and quiet for you tonight and hopefully you will find it more comfortable than what remained of your briefs. Sorry about that, I will replace them. Now I hope you will co-operate with these fine fellows as they prepare you for the night ahead. Have a good night!” With that, Dirk turned and left the room.

There was nothing Sandro could do. It was four against one…….two assistant and two escorts who clearly took their orders from Dirk or Dirk’s friends. Sandro was told to stand up and as he did so the escorts produced a neosteel chastity belt. Realising that resistance was futile, Sandro stood there while his now soft manhood was secured in its steel prison. The assistants then strapped him into a leather straitjacket, pulled all the straps home and secured each buckle with a padlock. As they did this, Sandro’s manhood began to wake up again and as it swelled and tried to erect, he could feel the cold steel of the penis tube built into the neosteel belt surround his engorged cock.

A steel collar was then locked around his neck. Shackles were locked around each of his ankles which were linked by a short chain and this chain, in turn, was linked to his collar. The chain was rather short forcing him to bow his head and slightly bend his upper body downwards in the direction of his ankles. He was then forced to shuffle along as best he could past the cages towards the end of the room. As the escorts pushed him along, Dirk’s assistants who were in front of him stopped and bent down and opened a steel grill which was in the floor. Sandro looked down and saw a space about the size of the cages lining the walls but underground of course. He tried to hesitate, but soon found himself forced to step down into this cell. Although the floor had a rubber surface, the cell was not deep enough to stand up in. Indeed, the only way to fit in was to lie down. He was helped onto his back and while lying there looking up, the grill was closed on top of him and secured with a padlock.

Sandro tested his bonds, he tried to struggle a little, hoping to loosen the straitjacket, he tried pushing at the gag invading his mouth in the hope of expelling it. Nothing worked. While he was doing this, he was aware of some movement above him. It sounded as if somebody was wheeling something along the floor of the room. Lying on his back all he could see was the ceiling way above him, the bright lights hanging from it and the top of the walls where they met the ceiling.

The noise grew closer, a shadow fell across his cell. The lights seemed to flicker but this was only because the light was being deflected by the moving of a cage on top of the grill! This was the cage containing the two victims he had seen earlier. There was no floor in it, only bars through which he could clearly see the naked, chained, silent, and chastised victims. As he stared up at them, his eyes  met theirs as their muzzled heads looked down at him in his equally helpless, bound and chastised state. He grunted into his gag as his cock hardened even more in reaction to the sight above him. As they also grunted reacting in frustration to their imprisoned manhood, his frustration rose. He tried again and again to achieve some friction for his desperate cock in its steel prison but he failed and fell back exhausted. As the night wore on, he slipped in and out of a restless sleep; his cock never seemed to sleep and just when it seemed to calm down a little, he opened his eyes and the sight above him rekindled its fire.

Sandro awoke with a start. For a moment he didn’t know where he was but everything soon come flooding back to him. But the cage had gone. Had he dreamt it? Then he heard voices approaching, the same assistants as the night before unlocked the grill and Sandro was pulled out. He could hardly stand and they helped him to the chair. He was released from all his restraints and was taken to a bathroom where he was allowed to take a shower.

As he refreshed his tired and aching body, he looked forward to having some breakfast, relaxing a little and then heading home on his motorcycle. But any idea of relaxation disappeared as he stepped out of the shower and was faced by the two hooded and gagged “escorts” waiting for him. One was holding a leather hood complete with large gag in his hand, the other a full set of steel manacles, collar, wrists, ankles. He hesitated for a moment as if looking for somewhere to run to to escape from them, but there was nowhere he could go.

Minutes later, he was shuffling along guided by the two escorts as he was, once more, unable to see, never mind speak. The walk seem to take ages as he could only manage very short steps, so short was the chain linking his manacled ankles. Every step he took pulled on the chain linking his ankles to his wrists and in turn to his collar. He also had to deal with the weight of these restraints which added to his ordeal. They reached some stairs and Sandro was guided by the “escorts” down the stone steps, each step down pulling tightly on the chains binding his body. He began to sweat as the weight combined with the limitations on his movement began to feel like a tough workout in a gym.

Downstairs, Dirk and his two friends were chatting while they waited for Sandro to arrive. They could hear the unmistakeable sound of chains rattling as their victim slowly and, with difficulty, descended the stairs. Sandro and his “escorts” were now at the end of the stairs and as they came through the open door, Dirk noticed  that Sandro’s manhood was perpendicular and oozing quantities of pre-cum in what looked like slow motion, so long and sticky were the drops.

Dirk approached Sandro saying “you look like you need to cum. You are making such a mess on my floor”. Sandro’s hooded head nodded while silently he begged Dirk for release both sexually and from his shackles. “Is that what you want?” Sandro again nodded his head vigorously. “I can’t hear you”, said Dirk, clearly enjoying himself. Sandro tried to form the words to reply but felt humiliated as a variety of grunts came out of his mouth causing much amusement to Dirk and his friends. Nor could Sandro see the very prominent bulges that Dirk and the others were now sporting  in their groin area. “Well let’s grant our guest his wish,” said Dirk with a broad grin on his face, “but in our own good time”. Sandro’s heart sank on hearing this. He was struggling to endure the weight of the shackles, his jaw was aching from having to accommodate a large gag in his mouth, and he was sweating profusely. To add to all of this, he was more horny than he could ever remember. He felt that he would do anything to be allowed to empty his overflowing balls and shoot his load.

As if reading his mind, the escorts started to unlock him form his shackles but, to his disappointment, they left his hood in place. He felt himself being lifted off his feet and placed on a hard surface, a table perhaps? He didn’t know of course as he couldn’t see. His arms were grabbed and pulled up above his shoulders and then stretched apart. His wrists were then secured to the table and his legs were fastened down in a similar manner. He raised his head as if to try and see what was happening but, of course, all was black. His chest, stomach and then his thighs were also secured to the table and finally his hooded head was strapped down tightly. He groaned into his gag as his erect cock twitched and waved around uselessly in the air. Some pre-cum dripped slowly onto his stomach.

His heart jumped as he felt a gloved hand grab his erect cock. Slowly at first and then with ever increasing speed somebody began to stroke his manhood. He tried to struggle but his bonds held fast and he couldn’t move. Up down, up down, the pumping continued and he felt a rush as his feelings of pleasure increased. “At last”, he thought, “at last, some reward for all I have suffered these last hours.” He could feel the cum rising, his balls tingled as if in anticipation of finally being emptied, he was nearly there and then……. nothing. The hand released his throbbing cock. It twitched uselessly from side to side as Sandro shouted, or tried to shout, begging to cum. Twice more this was repeated; Sandro was in hell. This was torture…….he cursed Dirk, his friends, the bike shop, the whole lot of them! He cursed the bonds that prevented him from satisfying his lust. He cursed the hood, the gag, and most of all, he cursed himself for getting into this position in the first place.

After some time, his cock began to soften. He tried again to break his bonds but, of course, it was useless. All he succeeded in doing was creating more sweat as his muscles flexed in their doomed attempt to help him break free. His cock now flaccid, all he wished to do was go home.

Suddenly, once more, a gloved hand grabbed his cock and within seconds it was swelling again as if it had a mind of its own. Again the stroking started, faster and faster, harder and harder. Sandro could feel the blood pumping through his erect cock and knew the blood vessels would be visible to all as they throbbed in excitement. Again the cum rose, this time it was unstoppable. He shouted in ecstasy but close to the “tipping point”, so close, the hand dropped away. The cum subsided. He almost wept. He never knew such torture existed.

Minutes passed, his cock began to droop and Sandro began to think how he could convince Dirk to let him go because that is what he now wanted. Best to go home and empty his balls there. At least he would be in control. And that is what it was about…….control…..and he was not in control. He was controlled…..his most intimate function was not his to enjoy…….his bondage ensured that.

All this time, he could hear the others talking, at least Dirk and his friends…….the “escorts” presumably still endured their enforced silence. But this regular hum of conversation ceased and Sandro heard some other movement and noises. A motor briefly switched on and then off…..the rattle of equipment…….nothing he could identify.

A gloved hand once more grabbed his flaccid cock. It reacted as before and grew hard in seconds. But this time the hand did not move up and down. It held his swollen cock tightly and then Sandro felt some lube being applied. As the hand continued to hold his manhood, his manhood…..controlled by another….he felt something being forced onto his rigid cock. It seemed to hug it tightly, fitting comfortably around it. A motor kicked into life and at the same time he felt his cock being pumped, very gently, but being pumped. Up down, up down, very slowly……..and this continued for some time. Bit by bit, he noticed it was increasing in tempo, just bit by bit. It dawned on him…..it was not a human. He was being milked by machine. The tempo was turned up and up and up. Sandro writhed in his bonds, his body pulling every muscle trying to break free. His powerful thighs flexing hopelessly against their restraints, but it was useless. The tempo increased, his cum rose and rose. The noise from the motor grew louder, Sandro’s moans became shouts but the gag did its work and suppressed them. The tempo was now reaching a level that Sandro could hardly bear. His cum continued to rise and rise and then his bound body shuddered as he shot his load, the cum being sucked out of him and into the receptacle attached to the end of the milking machine tubes.

Sandro was spent; his balls were empty but the machine carried on. He wanted it to stop but this was impossible. On and on it went….. up down, up down, and Sandro could do nothing to stop it. He was now groaning and moaning into his gag, his body writhing hopelessly in an attempt to break free. And then the incredible, he shot once more, a second orgasm. The motor cut out. All was silent. Sandro lay exhausted unable to move. He felt his wrists being untied…..it was over.

A while later , having recovered, his bike leathers were returned to him, (and a new pair of Calvin Kleins!) and soon he was dressed and ready to leave. Dirk told him that his bike was ready and that he would take him to the workshop to pick it up. “Same time next year, perhaps?”, said Dirk with a smile. “Probably”, said Sandro, although as the fabric in his briefs began to stretch, he knew it would be definitely.

 

THE END

By PrisonerX

Part 1

Sandro lived in the city. He was a keen biker and loved everything that went with the lifestyle, not least the opportunity and reason to wear full leathers. Recently his bike was not running as well as it normally did and he knew it was due for a full service. He had spotted an advertisement for a motorcycle service centre, which offered exactly what he wanted for the bike. Although it was about 80 km from his home, the advertisement offered “accommodation in a quiet secure location for you and your bike while it is being serviced according to your requirements.”  Sandro telephoned the number stated in the advertisement and asked for more details. The voice at the other end sounded friendly but authoritative. He first asked Sandro where he had seen the advertisement and when Sandro told him he explained that that the next available time would be the following weekend. He told him to “report” at midday on the Friday and that the work would be done over the weekend. The accommodation was included in the cost of the service. Sandro said he would like to make a booking and gave his name and address and details of his bike to the voice.

On the Friday morning, he packed a small rucksack, pulled on his bike leathers and headed out the door of his apartment and walked over to the garage where he kept his motorcycle. Within minutes he was heading out of town and very soon was on the motorway in the direction of the service centre. He arrived in the town shortly before midday and quickly found the bike centre.

On this particular Friday, the motorcycle service centre looked much like any other shop of its type throughout the country. It was on the edge of a small town in the countryside and according to the painted sign above the entrance; it serviced and repaired most of the well-known makes of motorbikes available. Certainly anybody passing by would hardly give it a second glance. Behind the front reception office there was a courtyard surrounded by a large workshop where the bikes were serviced, repaired and any other work required was carried out.  At anytime during the day, the noise of machinery and motorcycle engines could be heard as the mechanics went about their task of servicing customers’ bikes. Judging from the number of leather-clad bikers who came and went everyday, it was a busy and successful business.

The centre was busy that Friday with customers coming and going either to drop a bike in for servicing or to collect one that had been serviced. The bikes, once serviced, were parked in the courtyard awaiting their owners so no customer ever had a reason to go into the workshop. If any customer had walked into the workshop he might have noticed that, although the building extended back by about 70 metres, the work area inside was no more than 20 metres deep. In the wall at the back of the work area was a strong steel door that obviously led to another part of the building not open to public view. Again, any casual observer would probably conclude that this was a storage area for spare parts and other machinery required for the business. It was indeed a storage area but nothing stored there could be described as machinery or spare parts.

Sandro parked his bike outside the front office, removed his helmet and walked inside. A tall well-built guy wearing a black t-shirt and leather bike trousers was sitting behind the desk.  Sandro gave his name and the guy said, “I’m Dirk, the owner of this centre. If you leave the keys with me, your bike will be taken care of. You can leave your helmet here as well.” As he spoke two guys wearing full leathers and motorcycle helmets with blacked out visors entered the office. “These guys will show you to your accommodation. Enjoy your stay.” As he said that a slight smile flickered across his face. Before he could say anything in reply, Sandro’s arms were grabbed and he found himself being led across the courtyard to the workshop by the anonymous bikers who remained silent. He tried to pull away but their grip just tightened as they walked him towards a metal door at the back of the workshop. Just before entering one of the guys pulled something out of his pocket. It was a leather hood which he quickly pulled over Sandro’s head. Sandro attempted to pull it off while starting to shout but the other guy pulled his arms behind him and quickly cuffed them. At the same time a gag was forced into his open mouth and was strapped firmly in place. He was now helpless, unable to see where he was going or to shout for help.

He heard the door open and, as he was pushed through, he heard it slam behind him. His escorts now marched him a few metres along what he thought must be a corridor although he didn’t know, as he was unable to see. His cuffs were removed and his bike jacket and t-shirt were pulled off him before his wrists were cuffed again, pulled above his head and attached to a chain. His arms were pulled up just high enough to force him to stand on his toes. He felt, first his right, and then his left leg being pulled up as his bike boots were pulled off followed by his socks. As he felt the waistband of his leather bike jeans being undone he tried to shout out but the gag ensured his shout was nothing but a muffled grunt. Very quickly his jeans were removed. His arms were beginning to ache and as he was straining to maintain his balance on his toes, he felt very vulnerable as he stood there, hooded, gagged and clad only in his briefs. His captors had remained silent all this time and he found that unnerving as well.

Although he was rather shocked at what had happened in those last few minutes, he felt, to his embarrassment, his cock beginning to harden and stretch the fabric of his briefs. He knew that this would be noticed very soon by his captors but nothing he could do or think off seemed to prevent his erection. He felt one of his captors grab the waistband of his briefs and pull it tight as they were ripped off him. At the same time his arms were lowered enabling him to stand properly on the ground. His ankles were kicked apart and each one was secured to either end of a spread bar. All this time his cock remained erect even though his mind was racing and he was feeling apprehensive if not scared about his situation. Before he had time to think anymore about this he was hit by a jet of cold water which he thought must be coming from a hose. His erect cock now shrivelled with the shock of the water. Again he shouted out in protest but the gag once more reduced the shout to a muffled grunt.

He felt hands grabbing his now soft cock and as he struggled to try and pull away, he felt his cock being forced into some sort of metal tube which pushed it down against his body. A metal waistband attached to the tube was fastened around him and a chain was pulled through his crack securing his cock and balls in a metal chastity device. The effect was to cause his cock to try and erect but this time it was imprisoned in hard metal and although he tried desperately to prevent it, his cock continued to harden and strained to get out of its steel prison thus causing him major discomfort. His arms, which were still cuffed and attached to a chain above him, were to his relief, released and the cuffs were removed. One of his captors then pulled his arms out horizontally in front of him, and although he remained silent, Sandro realised that he was required to hold his arms in that position. The reason quickly became clear as he felt them being enclosed in leather which he could also recognise by its smell. He realised he was being put in a straitjacket which was very expertly strapped up tightly by his captors. His ankles were removed from the spread bar; he felt his captors’ hand on his shoulders as they guided him into what he surmised was another room.

He felt his gag being unstrapped and at the same time his hood was removed. His two captors were still wearing their helmets with the blacked out visors and remained silent. He saw he was in a cell about 3 metres square with no natural light. The straps on his straitjacket were padlocked so he saw that there was no possibility of being able to get out of it. He started to shout demanding his release when one of his captors forced a heavy leather muzzle with built in gag on to his head. Once more he was silenced and could only grunt ineffectually. Although he was totally helpless, his captors shackled his ankles before leaving the cell and locking the barred door.

Sandro managed to sit down on the floor of the cell and began to think about the events of the last hour. He was still wondering what he had got himself into and was somewhat apprehensive. But as he struggled in his straitjacket and tried to no avail to expel the gag in his mouth, he felt his imprisoned cock stiffening in its steel prison. In spite of not knowing what was ahead of him, he was sexually aroused and in a strange way enjoying his predicament.

Before he could think any further about things, he heard someone approaching his cell. Through the barred door, he recognised Dirk. He grunted into his muzzle but only unintelligible sounds came out. “I hope you find your accommodation satisfactory,” said Dirk, “the bad news is that we require a part for your bike which we haven’t got in stock just now. The good news is that we can obtain it for you, but that will not be before Monday. However you are welcome to stay until then at our expense.” Sandro grunted into muzzle again and Dirk responded by laughing. “Well our advertisement offered a “quiet and secure” location,” he said. “I understand from your escorts that you seemed to…..er…..how I shall put it…..react well to your welcome here. Or at least your cock did. I find that very interesting. Perhaps it’s something we should investigate further.” He smiled again and said, “Well I’ll let you relax a little now; after all you wanted a quiet break in the countryside.” Dirk walked off as Sandro again grunted into his muzzle while at the same time struggled in vain to get out of the straitjacket.

 

Part 2

 

Far from relaxing as Dirk had suggested, Sandro tried loosening the straitjacket by struggling as best he could. He rolled over on the ground, all the time trying to pull his arms out but he soon realised that he was no escapologist! It was useless. His silent captors clearly knew their job. As beads of sweat rolled down his face from his forehead from his efforts to escape he realised that there was nothing he could do other than wait and see how long he would remain in this state. He was conscious that during his futile struggle, his cock remained hard, or as hard as it could be, given that it was imprisoned in a steel chastity device. And this was very frustrating as he had a great desire to cum, which was denied him by the presence of this cruel device.

Accepting his dilemma, (he had no choice!) he managed to make himself as comfortable as possible by propping himself against the wall. His mind was racing as he wondered what he had got himself into. Although somewhat apprehensive, he was strangely calm as he realised that he was now living a fantasy he had often thought about. He relaxed a little more as he remembered that he had told his friend, Gerry, about this motorcycle service shop and that he had arranged to go there on Friday.  Gerry told him that he had heard about this place. Sandro remembered he had smiled as he said that he understood that, while it had a reputation for providing a very good service for the bike, it was also well known in certain biking circles for offering the bike owner an unforgettable weekend. Sandro wondered if Gerry knew more about this place than he had said. The answer to that, however, would have to wait until he returned home, and just now he didn’t know when that would be. Clearly he was going nowhere just now!

He had no idea how long it was since he had been imprisoned but it seemed like several hours. He could hear the sound of motorcycle engines and other noises coming from the workshops. He also heard voices from time to time but although he strained to listen, the voices were too faint for him to make out what was being said. He tried shouting for attention but all his gagged mouth could produce was a muffled grunt and some saliva dribbling down his chin. Time passed slowly, or did it? He had no idea what time it was or how long he had been in the cell. His only point of reference was that he had arrived at midday as arranged. He struggled to his feet and tried again to loosen his straitjacket while knowing inwardly that it was a hopeless task. His shackled ankles allowed a little movement, but in such a small cell there was no space to walk, or in his case, shuffle.

As he was thinking about sitting down again, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The leather-clad figures of his silent captors appeared in front of the barred door. The door swung open as it was unlocked and Sandro was grabbed by both of them and led out of the cell. For a moment he thought he was going back outside, but instead of going back the way he came in, he was taken in the opposite direction. He was led into a large room where Dirk was seated at a table. Dirk told his escorts to remove his straitjacket. As Sandro stretched his stiff arms, his wrists were immediately shackled loosely in front of him. “I will have your muzzle removed, but if you so much as utter one word it will be replaced immediately. Do you understand?” said Dirk. Sandro nodded and Dirk told the escorts to remove the muzzle. While one of them attended to this, the other one brought some food to the table and Sandro was told to eat. “I’m sure you must be hungry,” said Dirk, “We like to look after our guests here, but you had better eat now as I’m not sure when your next meal will be as we are very busy in the workshops today.”

As Sandro ate his food he had a chance to observe his escorts who were standing close by and, as usual, remained silent. They were dressed as before, head to toe in tightly fitting bike leathers, wearing gloves and their helmets had mirrored visors. As a result, he could not make out any facial features, but instead saw the reflection of his face in their visors. Their silence was a little unnerving, but Sandro knew better than to say anything, as he did not wish to have his muzzle strapped on again.

As Sandro finished eating, Dirk rose to go saying, “I will see you later. As I said earlier, your bike will be ready on Monday. I daresay you might be interested to see the workshops at some stage. I shall arrange for that later. I think you will find it very interesting to get an inside view of the work we do here. As for now, these guys will look after you and see you are secure for the rest of your stay. They will show you the toilet facilities and anything else they think you might need. But as you may have noticed, they are not very talkative!”  Turning to the ever-present escorts he said, “you know what to do with our guest here. I’ll leave you to it.” Sandro heard his footsteps disappear down the corridor and the sound of the heavy metal door to the workshop clunking shut.

As soon as Dirk had left, the escorts grabbed Sandro by his arms and led him out of the room. He could hear faint sounds coming from the workshop again and his cock started to stiffen as he wondered what any customer would make of what was going on in the rooms behind the workshop. Two leather clad guys escorting a guy, naked except for a metal device covering his cock and balls while his wrists and ankles were shackled. Sandro said he needed to piss and without receiving any verbal answer, his escorts led him to a toilet where he relieved himself with some difficulty not being used to having to piss while locked in chastity.

On leaving the toilet, his head was grabbed and a gag was forced into his mouth and padlocked securely. Before he could see anymore, a heavy spandex hood with no eyes or mouth opening was pulled over his head and he was forced up against a wall. His ankle shackles were removed and leather restraints strapped on in their place. His legs were spread and his ankles secured to metal rings protruding from the wall. His wrist shackles were removed and leather restraints strapped on in their place. His arms were forced up and his wrists secured to metal rings above him. He felt his chastity belt being unlocked and as it was pulled off, his already stiff cock erected. He felt a little embarrassed but his silent escorts remained just that………silent. The silence was broken by the sound of an electric clippers being switched on and before he had time to react he felt it moving up and down his spread-eagled body as his body hair was shorn. He tried to struggle but he was tightly stretched against the wall and had very little chance to move. Next his pubic hair was clipped and then he felt cream being applied and followed seconds later by the strokes of a razor as any remaining hair or stubble was removed from his manhood. He was now sporting a raging hard on but neither of his escorts so much as touched it.

A jet of cold water took him by surprise and his hard on quickly subsided. As it did, he felt his now limp cock being forced back into the metal tube, which made up part of his chastity device. Within less than a minute he locked in chastity again. His arms and wrists were released from the metal rings and he was pushed forward and his head forced into a set of stocks. The stocks were secured around his neck and as the hood was pulled he saw one of his escorts holding the hair clippers. He shouted into his gag as his hair fell to the ground as his head was shaved. His head was released and he was manhandled onto a long narrow table and secured to it by a series of straps. Whoever these guys were, they clearly had done this before, thought Sandro as he tried to come to terms with was happening. Within minutes his arms and then his legs were being wrapped in wide gauge duct tape. Finally his taped arms were pinned to his torso by the application of more tape which also enclosed his legs from his thighs down to his ankles. He tried to struggle to avoid it but the straps held him securely and as the tape enclosed his body the straps were removed one by one. As it approached his head he shouted into his gag but his captors paid no attention. His gag was removed but immediately replaced by another gag, which had a hole in the middle and tube attached to ensure his airway. His ears were plugged and as his shaved head was wrapped his vision disappeared and all went dark. He felt his lower body being lifted and something passed underneath it. This was followed by his middle torso and then his shoulders. The silence was broken by the sound of a motor. He felt his body being lifted into the air. After a few seconds, the motor stopped and the mummified form, which was Sandro, swung gently in a horizontal suspension.

In his office, Dirk switched on the monitor on his desk. As the picture came to life he saw a mummified form suspended horizontally from the ceiling and, as he watched, this helpless, anonymous form, seemed to try and move but the tight bindings were clearly too much for his entombed guest, or to be more accurate his prisoner. The silence in the room was only broken by intermittent noises as Sandro tried to speak. The leather clad silent figures of the escorts were also visible as they kept watch over their mummified prisoner. He switched off the monitor and, picking up a set of keys, he headed out of his office towards the steel door at the back of the workshops.

Meanwhile Sandro tried to move his arms and his legs but the tight cocoon prevented any real movement. He tried to strain his muscles but to no avail. His plugged ears blocked out any external noises and all he could hear was the sound of his breathing as he inhaled and exhaled through the tube in the centre of his gag. Unable to hear, speak or see anything, he was left alone with his thoughts. As he hung there, his body temperature slowly increased and he began to sweat. His cock tried without success to erect as the chastity device ensured that his manhood remained confined to its metal prison. As his frustration grew, Sandro tried again and again to bring himself to orgasm, but the tight bindings covering his body from head to toe combined with the unforgiving metal tube that imprisoned his swollen cock made this impossible. He tried calling out to demand his release but the gag ensured his words were reduced to an unintelligible mumble. Reluctantly he accepted that there was nothing he could do other than wait until his hosts decided to release him.

As Dirk approached the steel door, he was joined by two of his staff who had just finished work for the day. They were still dressed in their work overalls. Opening the steel door he motioned them to enter and they all walked quickly towards the room where Sandro was suspended, mummified and silent, observed by the escorts. As Dirk entered the room, the escorts took off their helmets revealing leather hoods that covered their heads tightly and which were locked in place. The hoods had a built-in gag, which, if Sandro had been able to see them, explained why they had remained silent. Dirk unlocked their hoods with his keys and said “OK guys, time to have something to eat and take some rest. You’re off duty until midnight.” The escorts removed their leather hoods and took off their gloves, boots and bike leathers and stood there clad only in their briefs. At the same time the two staff members who had come in with Dirk stripped off their work overalls and work boots and handed them to the escorts who then put them on. The escorts then left while the new arrivals got kitted out in the bike leathers and boots. They then pulled on the leather hoods, which Dirk then locked in place.

Although his ears were plugged, Sandro could still hear a little and he was certainly aware that there were others in the room with him. He strained to listen as Dirk said, “Take him down in thirty minutes. The workshops will be closing shortly so we shall be able to proceed with arranging his accommodation for the night. I will join you later to check out that our guest is being accorded all facilities we have to offer to make sure his stay here is something he’ll always remember.”

Sandro’s cock continued to strain against its metal prison and, in an attempt to lessen the discomfort he was now feeling, he tried to think of other things in the hope that his cock would soften and relieve the discomfort. The more he tried, the harder his cock seemed to get. Images flashed across his mind of a helpless mummified form suspended in mid air, with only the sound of breathing betraying the fact that the cocoon contained a human being. He had seen such images on the Internet many times. They were a favourite fantasy of his but this time it was no fantasy. It was real; he was now one of those images. His mummified form hung helplessly from the suspension straps as he waited for, indeed hoped for, release from his now increasingly sweaty and hot skin-tight prison. More than that, he craved the opportunity to relieve his raging hard on.

 

Part 3

 

The sound of a motor starting up alerted Sandro to the fact that something was about to happen. Slowly he felt himself being lowered bit by bit until he was resting, (he presumed), back on the table. Although he couldn’t see anything, he was correct in his perception. The two leather clad escorts immediately set to work, (in silence of course), cutting and stripping away the duct tape that had kept him mummified for the last few hours. The feeling of cool air circulating around his sweat soaked body was welcome and as his head bindings were removed he closed his eyes momentarily in order to adjust to the glare of the lights in the room. His gag, however, remained firmly in place and he became aware of how thirsty he was. He grunted ineffectually into his gag asking for some water. His silent escorts ignored his grunts as they manhandled him into a wheelchair, which stood alongside the table. His wrists were grabbed and secured to the arms of the chair by means of leather restraints and similarly his ankles were secured to the legs of the chair.

Although he could see clearly once more, this told him nothing about his escorts and all he could see was his reflection in their helmet visors. The sight of his bound and gagged naked self caused a stirring once more in his metal belt, which was still imprisoning his manhood.

One of the escorts placed a two litre bottle of water on his lap with a plastic tube protruding from it which he pushed into the tube in Sandro’s gag enabling him to take a much needed drink and quench his thirst. As he drank the water, Sandro watched as the two escorts opened some cupboards at the side of the room and pulled out the contents. From what he could make out, they included a one- piece leather bike suit, a leather hood and various other items that he couldn’t see properly. As he sat restrained in the wheelchair, he began to feel very tired. His eyes grew heavy but, at first, he resisted the urge to close them. However within seconds he had drifted off to sleep. Whatever was in the water had done its job.

Sandro awoke with a start and for a moment wondered where he was. He was still sitting in the wheelchair. He was wearing a black one- piece leather bike suit complete with boots. Although his ankles were no longer secured to the sides of the chair, he soon discovered that they were shackled with a short chain between them. He was also wearing a tight fitting heavy-duty leather hood to which a gag was strapped and locked in place with a padlock. As he tried to move his fingers he realised that his hands were encased in tight fitting leather mitts that were also locked in place using padlocks. Like his ankles his wrists were not secured to the chair but were shackled by a chain that limited his movement. Securing his body to the chair were two very wide leather straps; one ran across his chest and was locked behind; the other secured his thighs to the seat thus preventing any attempt on his part to stand up.

As he contemplated his position, once more his imprisoned cock began to stir in its metal cage. The two escorts stood, silent as ever, watching him and he, in turn, looked back at the figures clad from head to toe in black leather and as before wearing helmets with reflective visors which prevented him from seeing their faces or even their eyes. There was nothing for him to do but await events.

He didn’t have to wait long as within a few minutes the door at the side of the room opened and Dirk walked in. Dirk walked around Sandro, secured in the chair and addressing the escorts said, “OK, take our guest out of here and let’s get him into his overnight quarters.” One of the escorts immediately moved behind Sandro and, releasing the brake on the wheelchair, pushed him out through the open door. The remaining escort and Dirk followed them.

Sandro was wheeled along the corridor towards the steel door through which he had come on his arrival. As he was pushed through it, he saw that he was at the back of the workshop, now silent and deserted as it had closed for the day and the staff had gone home. His chair was pushed towards the end of the workshop where Sandro could see two steel doors standing upright from the floor on either side of an opening in the floor. The escort pushing his chair, stopped alongside what Sandro now saw was a deep cellar or pit. While the escort started to unlock the straps across his chest and thighs, the other escort appeared carrying a set of steps which he carefully let down into the pit.

Sandro was then manhandled out of the wheelchair into a standing position. He was led to the edge of the pit by the steps and Dirk said, “welcome to your overnight accommodation. Down you go. I suggest you take it easy on the steps!” Sandro hesitated and tried to say something. But his gag ensured that anything he tried to say was just an unintelligible grunt or series of grunts. His mind was racing. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to enter this pit but at the same time he found it strangely arousing. Before he could think anymore about it, the escorts took him by the shoulders and pushed him towards the steps. Sandro first placed one foot and then the other on the first step, taking great care as his ankle chain limited his range of movement. Slowly he descended the steps until he reached the bottom. He tried to see what the place was like but it was unlit and the only light entering it was from the workshop above him. He heard Dirk’s voice saying “stand forward of the steps and kneel down!” As he did so, the steps were withdrawn and immediately everything went completely dark as he heard the sound of the metal doors above him being closed and a bolt being drawn across preventing any means of opening them from the inside.

As he tried to stand up he bumped his head against the doors, which now imprisoned him underground. He realised that the headroom was too low for him to stand up properly. Although he was not blindfolded, he could not see or make out anything in the pitch dark of his prison. He reached out in front of him in an attempt to feel his way around but whatever way he turned, it seemed to him that his leather bound hands immediately hit a wall.

He lay on his back, his legs drawn up slightly as the pit was too short for him to stretch out in. He listened intently for a few seconds but all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, the rattle of his chains and the distinct creaking sound of leather as he moved. He reached down with his leather covered hands in an attempt to relieve his rock hard cock but the combination of leather mitts and the solid metal cage imprisoning his manhood ensured he would remain frustrated in his new hell.

 

Part 4

 

After lying on his back for some minutes, Sandro tried again to stand up but the dimensions of his prison ensured that he could not get off his knees. Although there was no blindfold attached to his hood, he could not see his leather-encased hands in front of him so dark was the pit in which he was imprisoned. Again he listened intently for any sound of movement or voices above him but aside from his breathing, there was nothing but silence. He made a half-hearted effort to pull the mitts off his hands but he knew that they padlocked in place and could not be removed without a key. He felt around the back of his hood but once again the padlocks locking first his hood and then his gag meant that he was wasting his time.

Eventually accepting that he could do nothing to help himself, he lay on his back again and tried to get as comfortable as his situation allowed him. As he lay there contemplating his hopeless position, his nostrils filled with smell of leather mixed with the smell of bike oil and other smells coming from the workshop. His raging hard-on did not diminish as his swollen cock tried to break free of its metal cage. He felt his eyes closing as slowly he drifted off to sleep.

Several times during the night he awoke with a start and, for a moment, he did not know where he was. But each time, as he lifted his head and it bumped against the steel doors that made up the roof of his prison, he was brought back to reality. On a couple of occasions he shouted as loudly as he could into his gag, but his muffled protests were met with nothing more than silence. He drifted off to sleep again.

The sound of voices and footsteps aroused him from his sleep. Above him the steel doors started to open and he covered his eyes while they adjusted to the daylight flooding in. Sandro struggled to his feet. It felt good to stretch his body having spent several hours in a cramped and confined position. He took his leather-clad hands away from his eyes and saw the familiar figures of the escorts standing above him. One of them dropped the steps into place and indicated to him to climb out of the pit. Sandro needed no second invitation! Aware of his shackled ankles, he carefully climbed the steps and as he emerged from the pit, his escorts grabbed him by his arms and led him back through the steel door at the rear of the workshop.

As he shuffled along, Sandro realised that he was feeling quite tired. He had had very little real sleep since he had left home the day before. He was hungry and very thirsty. The almost constant presence of a gag in his mouth was now making his jaws ache and he really hoped it would be removed before much longer. At least on this, he was not to be disappointed. He was led into a washroom and his escorts set about unlocking his hood, gag, the leather mitts covering his hands and his ankle shackles. His boots were pulled off and the escorts started to unzip his leather biker suit indicating to him that he should remove it.  Naked apart from his steel cock cage, Sandro was left to perform his ablutions.

After having a shower and something to eat and drink Sandro was feeling a great deal better. He was seated at a table beside which his ever-silent escorts stood guarding him. His attempts to engage them in conversation met with silence. As he contemplated the leather-clad figures in front of him, Sandro felt his cock stirring in its metal cage. He placed his hand on the metal belt in a vain attempt to relieve his now mounting sexual frustration but nothing he could do offered him any such relief.

After a few minutes, Dirk entered the room and spoke to the escorts. “Time to get our guest stored for the morning as the workshop opens in 30 minutes,” he said. Sandro was taken back out through the steel door and into the workshop once again. He was led over to a hoist beside which a large canvas sack was lying. His hands were once again locked into leather mitts that were joined by a short chain in front of him. A leather muzzle was strapped in place preventing him opening his mouth, which, this time, was not invaded by a gag and then spandex hood was pulled over his head, obscuring his vision. He was made to sit down and he felt the canvas sack being pulled up around his naked body. Seconds later he heard a motor starting and he felt himself being lifted up towards the roof and for a brief second he panicked. But as the hoist pulled him upwards the sack twisted and turned gently and he relaxed once more. A moment later the motor stopped and the sack containing the bound and hooded Sandro was now suspended above the workshop. He struggled to make himself as comfortable as possible as he realised that this is what Dirk had meant when he talked of getting the guest “stored.”

A little while later he heard voices as the employees arrived for work followed by sounds of equipment being used as they went about the business of servicing and repairing motorcycles. His cock started to stiffen in its cage as he pictured the scene below him and wondered what the employees would say or think if they knew what was contained in the canvas sack five or six metres above their heads. As time passed, the sack began to get very warm and Sandro felt grateful that he was naked as he began to sweat quite heavily.

The motorcycle service centre opened for just a half day on Saturdays so at 1 o’clock all work ceased and the workshop was closed for the weekend. Sandro became aware of the fact that he could no longer hear any voices and that silence had descended on the workshop. He tried calling out, but the muzzle muffled his voice and, anyway, his cries were met with silence. Time ticked by slowly and he began to wonder how long he could endure his current predicament. Of course there was nothing he could do about it. He was not expected home until Sunday evening at the earliest and he had taken Monday off work as a holiday so he would not be missed by anyone until Tuesday. One part of him cursed himself for getting himself into this situation, but his now raging hard-on testified to the fact that he was aroused by the fact that he was reduced to the status of a captive, bound, hooded and gagged and stored in a canvas sack which was suspended several metres in the air.

Before he could think anymore about his situation Sandro heard a motor starting up and almost immediately the sack began to descend. Moments later he was being pulled out of it and as he tried to steady himself on his feet he was dragged back to the rooms behind the workshop. He was pushed into a wooden high backed chair and his wrists were unchained and quickly secured to the arms. His chest was secured to the back of the chair by means of a wide leather strap, his thighs were tightly strapped down and his ankles secured to the legs of the chair. He tested his bonds but, as before, he was going nowhere. He heard the now familiar sound of a motor starting up and, for a moment, he braced himself expecting to find himself being lifted upwards. But he remained firmly strapped to the chair on the ground. He wondered what was happening but his hood prevented him from seeing anything.

Sandro didn’t have long to wait to find out as his hood was pulled off revealing two mummified forms suspended from the ceiling in front of him. As he looked at these helpless silent figures swinging gently in the air, he saw that Dirk was in the room along with the escorts. Dirk walked over to Sandro and said, “these are our newly arrived guests. They arrived this morning while you were in storage.”

The spectacle of the helpless mummified figures suspended in front of him had an immediate affect on Sandro’s imprisoned cock and he felt a dull pain as his engorged manhood tried yet again to escape from its cage. He tried shifting in his seat to relieve the pain. Dirk who obviously noticed this said, “I see that this interests you somewhat. In fact, I’d say it excites you. When you telephoned me to arrange to come here, I asked you where you had seen our advertisement. When you told me which publication you had seen it in, I knew you were interested in our sort of hospitality. Since your arrival here, I’ve closely monitored your reactions to the treatment handed out to you. That brings me to the point of this conversation. I want to ask you whether you would consider a part time job here as one of the escorts. It would involve working here every weekend.”

Sandro could hardly believe his ears. His raging hard-on was testament, if indeed one was needed, to how he felt about this place. He nodded his head vigorously and at the same time tried saying “yes,” but because of his muzzle it emerged more as a grunt. “That’s a “yes” I take it,” said Dirk with a grin on his face. “Well I must warn you that if you say “yes,” it means accepting all that being an escort entails, and I mean all.” Again Sandro nodded his head vigorously. “In that case,” said Dirk, “I will make arrangements and you will leave here this evening and I shall expect you back next Saturday morning.” He walked over to Sandro and unlocked the muzzle. “Just to be sure, I will ask you again if you are willing to do this and accept all it entails.” Sandro, now free of his muzzle replied at once saying, “yes” in his clear voice and with a broad grin on his face.

Dirk nodded at the escorts who walked over to Sandro and started to release him from the bondage chair. But if Sandro thought he was free to go at that moment he was wrong. He was taken over to what looked like a medical operating table and made to lie on it. One of the escorts went to the corner of the room and returned carrying a leather body sack. While he was doing this, the other one began unlocking the metal chastity cage and removing it from Sandro’s cock. Before he could work out what was happening, he was expertly and quickly strapped in the sack and each strap was padlocked in place. Sandro was confused and started to ask Dirk what was happening but before he could complete his question he was gagged again and the gag locked in place. Finally the sack was opened midway down and his balls and now very erect cock were pulled outside. Dirk, who was watching this said, “I thought it appropriate that before you leave today and before joining my team of escorts, you are entitled to a little reward. Enjoy it, it may be some time before you get a chance to again.”

Sandro was puzzled by this comment, but his erect cock now dripping pre-cum was evidence that he was happy. As he lay tightly bound in the sack, Sandro watched as one of the escorts lubed his cock and then lowered a device from above the table. It resembled a milking machine for cows and suddenly Sandro realised that it was just that, except adapted for human use. He tried to pull away but there was nothing he could do, as the device was first attached to his hard dick and was then switched on. Slowly and inexorably it began to massage his dick driving him to levels of ecstasy and just as he thought he was about to shoot its load life, it shut off before starting again after a pause of a few minutes. It was for Sandro a new form of torture. Each time he approached orgasm, it was denied him. He shouted into his gag begging to be let cum but it was obvious the escorts were experts in cum denial. After what seemed to him like an eternity he was finally granted the release he was so desperate for and he shot his load. But the machine continued its work and as he now shouted into his gag begging for it to stop it continued to massage his cock unmercifully. All the while, Dirk was watching and when at last the machine was switched off he said to Sandro “it was necessary to do that to prepare you for your job as an escort. You will understand that when you leave this evening. Now we will get you prepared for your journey home, oh, and by the way, your bike is in tip top order so you should have no problems with it.”

Sandro was released from the sack, his gag removed and he was helped off the table. He was just pleased that his now soft dick had been freed from what had become a torture. One of the escorts brought his clothing to him but before he had a chance to dress, both the escorts grabbed him and the metal cock cage was locked back in place. He started to object but Dirk interrupted him and said, “you agreed to take the job of escort including all it entailed. I hold the key to your belt so I reckon we can be sure of your attendance here next weekend and every weekend after that! And don’t worry about wearing the belt, you will get used to it. Ask the other escorts.”

Sandro realised he had no alternative but to accept what Dirk had said. He looked at the escorts expecting a reply. Again there was just silence. He looked at them and said, “have you nothing to say?” They silently nodded their heads and as they did so they removed their helmets. Sandro stared in horror as he looked at their hooded heads and saw, for the first time, that they were tightly gagged. He looked at Dirk who just smiled and said, “I did say all it entailed.”

 

THE END

 

Metalbond would like to thank Prisonerx for this fantastic story!  And also thanks to bondagefirst for inspiring it! You can look both these guys up on Recon.