Oh boy…the alarm is buzzing. And I was having such a nice dream too.
Groaning, I open my eyes. It's dark, but that's because I'm curled up underneath the bedsheets. I don't want to come out from here, from this nice, dark, warm place. But the alarm is buzzing and the only way to stop its noise is to get out, cross the room and tap the button. My owner designed the room to do that.
With a groan, I throw the sheets off and hiss at the cold air that strikes me. Not a pleasant way to wake up at all. A stretch, a creak of the legs, and I'm on the floor, crossing the room and finally hitting that "off" button. The buzzing stops.
I'd go back to bed if I could, but I can't. My owner is going to be up here in a few minutes and I'm going to be have to be ready for the morning's restraints. I'm getting a bit tired of them to be honest, but I don't have much of a choice in the matter. None of us who live in this house do. We simply do what we're told…otherwise, we'd have to face the consequences, and trust me, they aren't pretty.
It's only seven AM. Damn, I hate getting up early. And on a Monday of all days. What a rotten combination. What does my owner like to see me wearing on a Monday? Oh yeah, the white suit. Crossing the carpet, I head over to the dresser and open the shelves. There's not a whole lot in here aside from catsuits, body suits, etc. Ah, there's the one. The white rubber body suit. That's the one I'll wear today. Taking the suit out, I step into it, slipping into it until it's snug and tight around my body. A quick zip, and the zipper slides up my chest, eventually coming to a stop at my neck.
A minute has gone by since the alarm was turned off. I'm groggy, tired, and weary. But there's a long day ahead of me, so I'd better just get ready for it.
***
Perhaps now would be a good time to introduce myself. My name is Clark, and I'm a slave. Yeah, that's right. A slave. One would think that slavery would be abolished in this day and age, but it's a sad fact that it continues to exist throughout the world. Maybe in another hundred years or so it'll be extinguished, but it'll be too late for me. This is my life now, and there's very little I can do about it.
I didn't enter this life voluntarily. Good heavens no! I was kidnapped into this life by a pair of low-life burglars what…five years ago? There are no calendars around here, so I have a hard time telling. I had been with my girlfriend at the time, both of us staying in my apartment. But in the middle of the night we were both woken up feeling thick gags being pressed into our mouths, pressed in very, very deep, followed by tape covering our mouths to silence our screams. And after that…well, we were stripped naked, had our arms and legs tied together, then forced into boxes…well, they resembled caskets to be honest. My girlfriend went in first while I was forced to watch. They injected her casket with polystyrene, which quickly sealed her inside. Then…guess what?...they did the same to me. It wasn't fun, I'll tell you that much. Being forced into the box, held down what that material expanded until I couldn't move an inch. Then I was blindfolded, and darkness came down upon me.
And after the lid was placed on and locked, all I was aware of was a lot of movement as I was carted out of my home, my life…then there was a truck driving, followed by lots of noise, movement, and eventually silence. I thought that we were being abandoned somewhere, but most of my thoughts were divided along the lines of wondering if I was going to survive whatever was happening, and where my girlfriend (her name is Samantha by the way) was.
After a long time (I don't know how long), the low and gentle movement came to a stop. The lid of my casket was removed, the polystyrene dug out, and I was forcibly pulled out, very dirty and still naked. When the blindfold was removed, I had no idea where we were, save that we were in a house whose owner was probably very rich, judging by all the tapestries and the stone walls. It resembled a castle.
And as it turned out, I didn't have to wait long to meet the owner of this castle.
***
It's seven o' five AM, and my owner is going through the castle, locking her staff into restraints. She'll be coming up here in about five minutes or so, so I have some time to myself. The room where I stay, up near the attic of this castle, is locked from the outside, the windows blocked with several layers of steel bars, so I can't get out. It's a simple room, the floor covered with a carpet, there's a soft bed to sleep in, a bookcase with a small collection…as well as a cage that I'm locked into whenever I'm bad.
I lie down on the bed. I'm going to be ordered onto it anyway, so I might as well relax on it. She'll be up on the dot at Seven Ten AM. She is never late.
***
It turned out that my girlfriend and I had been kidnapped and taken to a country somewhere in Europe to be the "staff" for some exceptionally rich and wealthy woman who lived in a castle all the time. She was an odd one, that much was sure. She liked the process, she told us, by a crackling fireplace, of slowly turning an unwilling captive into a loyal staff member. Needless to say, when she said that I was going to spend the rest of my life at the castle, that didn't go over so well. But when she had ordered my kidnapping (to this day, I still don't know how or why she found out and chose me), she also ordered her grunts to take my girlfriend as well, so that I would have a companion with me as I lived here.
Samantha was brought in at that moment, but she was quite different from when I had last seen her that night when we went to bed. She was dressed in, of all things…a black rubber bodysuit with cuffs around her ankles and wrists. For a moment, when she saw me, the delight of both of us being together again momentarily overwhelmed the predicament we were in. But not for long, for she was then taken away. Two other rubber clad people came up to me and restrained me from lunging after her, my new "master" telling me that it was time to get me dressed.
That was…a weird experience.
I was taken to a large room filled with shelves and crates upon crates of all types of fetish wear. For a beginner like me, it was decided to lock me into a black body zentani suit. It was surreal being forced into the suit that covered every square inch of me, including my face, until there was no skin showing. Then a steel shackle called a "fiddle" was secured around my neck and wrists, forcing my hands in front of my face. And then there was a particularly nasty shock when something cold and hard went around my wrist and through my legs.
"Don't worry, that's just a chastity belt." One of my attendants told me as the belt was locked down. "It's just to make sure you don't stimulate yourself." I protested of course, angry at what was going on, but a gag was produced and forced into my mouth through the suit, silencing me. "Now now, no shouting. Just relax and get used to it. Believe me…you will."
When I was all locked up and secured, I was escorted through the castle up to one of the tallest rooms. This was going to be my room, I was told. You'll stay in here during the night and when Mistress desires to use you. For the first day or so, you'll be kept in here to adjust before we start instructing you on your new duties.
But I simply responded by trying to kick them. My ankles were free and thus I could still kick. But a pair of ankle manacles went on and fettered my legs together. And for punishment, I was going to spend those ten hours locked into my cage. The cage, it turned out, was indeed a cage, large enough to hold a human inside it. It was quite a struggle my captors had, forcing me inside and eventually locking the lid down. The cage was wheeled to the center of the room and set in place, and then they left, locked the door, and left me alone.
Those first ten hours of being a slave were nightmarish. Kidnapped, dressed up like some fetish freak, shackled and locked into a cage somewhere in Europe with no idea where the hell I was…it was nightmare. I struggled of course, fighting against my restraints, but to no avail. Whoever this woman was, she knew how to construct…or buy…restraints that ensured that you did not move. And eventually, I quieted down to collect my thoughts.
Time just crawled…I can still remember that much. It seemed to take forever for those ten hours to pass. With the suit covering my face, my vision was reduced to simply seeing fuzzy outlines of things. If there was a clock in this room (I later found out there wasn't), I wouldn't be able to read it. So to pass the time, I turned my attention towards my restraints, the fiddle, chastity belt, and ankle manacles. I tugged, twisted, and turned in them to get a feel on how they were, how tight they fit me, etc. I named them too. The fiddle was Samantha, because I liked behind held by her. The chastity belt was Sanaya, after my mom, who always told me no sex until marriage. The ankle manacles…well, that was tough. I didn't know what to name them. So they went un-named.
***
Outside, I can hear some birds chirping from nearby trees. It's a pleasant sound. They can still fly around and go where they will. Truth be told…I still miss that life…
***
The first few months as a slave (I was never called that mind you. My host always called me by my first name, Clark) were very hard. I was kept manacled at all times. That's the law around here: All slaves/staff MUST be locked into hand and ankle manacles at all times, except when our mistress says otherwise. It is so strange living a life where you're manacled almost all the time, but to be honest, you eventually get used to it.
I was given simple jobs at first, such as sweeping and dusting. It was hard to do when manacled, but the mental stress was so much worse then the physical labor, just thinking that I was going to be doing this for the rest of my life…manacled and shackled like a prisoner…it was very hard.
Mistress demanded that I call her by that name…mistress. I refused for quite some time, and for that time, she did put up with it…but not for very long. She never, ever told us her real name. Nobody knew it. Not even the other slaves who had been here for years. After a while, she began to change in her attitude towards me. Whenever I refused to call her my mistress, she would take away something from me, such as food, drink, or a bed to sleep in. She remained cheerful on the outside, but she was showing me that resistance wasn't going to work.
And after a while…I decided to just go along with it and call her mistress. The first time I addressed her as mistress…it was creepy. It felt like a small part of me died inside.
My one comfort was that I was still with Samantha. She apparently didn't like our situation any more then I did, but with no way out of the castle (it was locked and barred at all times), she seemed to have accepted her fate and worked to adjust to it. She was tasked with going around and cleaning tables and chairs. Whenever I saw her, I spent as much time looking at her as I could. With her body locked into those black rubber suits, the manacles…I admit that I found her quite attractive. And beneath my chastity belt…I did get a hard on. But I could never find relief or satisfaction. Sex was not permitted, as was self-stimulation, unless it was a reward for extremely good work. But mostly, I wanted to get close to her, to try and help her feel better. Mistress did let us get together at times, but our mouths were always gagged (we wear gags almost all the time around here). We could never kiss. We had to settle on caressing each other, on holding each other tightly for as long as we could.
I wanted to tell her that I was trying to think of a way to get us out…but of course, I couldn't. I couldn't tell her anything.
***
My arms are lying at my side, and my legs are pressed together. Instinctive positions after being kept in a submissive and manacled state for the past few years of my life. There's a slight itch on my back. Its a few moments before I reach back and scratch it. Mistress is gracious enough that we're free to scratch itches on ourselves and on each other if it is needed.
***
I quickly began to get associated with my fellow slaves, got to know them and their personalities. They were a friendly lot, if a bit quiet. When they didn't have gags in their mouths, they didn't speak much. They were quiet and thoughtful. Most have been here for years. One of them, a woman by the name of Colleen, thinks that she's been here for close to twenty years. When I did get the very rare chance to talk to her, I asked if she had tried to escape. Yes, she said. I did at first…but I got caught. I spent close to a year in the dungeon.
After a while, she continued, you just get tired of trying to escape and just get used to living like this. She raised her manacled hands. And besides, it really isn't so bad. Mistress treats us well and there are perks.
I thought she was nuts. I had to get out of the castle and take Samantha with me. But where? Looking through the windows, all one could see was mountains and trees. Knowing where we were was impossible.
The other slaves were pretty much the same as Colleen. They had accepted what had happened to them and simply adjusted. All spoke about when they had tried to escape, and when they had spent time down in the dungeon. But none of them ever spoke about what was down there. They didn't want to.
There were moments when we all got together and got to socialize. Usually in the afternoons or late evenings after dinner. We're allowed to all mix, mingle, and talk in the soft carpet in front of the fireplace without our gags (unless they're still on as punishment for some wrong deed). I'm one of only two male slaves here in the castle, the rest are women. Yes, there is sexual desire among us, but the ever present chastity belts locked around our waists and groins remind us that there is no sex allowed. So we do the next best thing. We cuddle. We hug and caress each other. That's probably one of the things keeping us together. A social bond if you will. The glue that makes us into a tiny community. I always try to spend time with Samantha, to hold her close and tightly.
And truth be told…those are the best moments of living here.
***
Not everything here is all nice and quiet though. There is a place underneath the castle where punishment for bad deeds takes place. It's the dungeon. And unlike whatever kinky fantasies you may have, it's not a fun place.
I asked Mistress about it one day. Curiosity really. Just what was the dungeon? What went on down there? Mistress's answer was to take out a key from around her neck, then lead me towards the back of the castle, where a heavy steel door was bolted into the wall. The key unlocked that door. It swung back to reveal a very long staircase that went deep under the castle. It was dim, the only light coming from a flashlight that mistress took with her as we went down the steps, me going first.
They went down at least two stories beneath the castle, beneath the ground. At the bottom, the stairs turned around, and then went another two stories down. So when we were four stories down underneath the castle, we emerged into what looked like a cell block at some prison, several heavy iron doors set into the walls. Mistress went to one and opened it, revealing a bare cell inside, the only features being several steel O rings set into the walls and the ceiling.
This is where staff goes for punishment, she told me. When a crime is committed, there is no appeals, no excuses. You go down here and serve your time. Alone, and without company, locked into restraints at all times. The very thought of what went on down there terrified me. In my minds eye, I could see slaves being dragged down here, forced into cells and locked down, then having the door sealed for weeks…for months.
Then Mistress told me that I was going to stay down here a week as a prisoner. There was a moment where I panicked and asked why? Because, I was told, so that you'll know what it's like. So you won't do anything that will get you sent down here.
Two of my fellow slaves appeared in the door, apparently having followed us down. Wordlessly they came over to me and took me in their arms. One of the cell doors was opened by Mistress. And then I was taken inside and manacled to the wall, my ankles and wrists locked into stocks that permitted no movement. Keep in mind that our normal manacles are connected by a chain that allows us some movement. The cuffs that were being locked onto me permitted none.
"Please remember Clark." Mistress told me. "This is for your own good. Do your time now, and you will lean never to break the rules. We will come for you in one week."
And then the cell door was locked. And I was left, startled and alone, in darkness.
It wasn’t easy, that one week. With nothing but darkness, I had no references for time. I didn't know if it was night or day, noon or midnight. All I knew was that I was locked up in a dungeon underneath a castle by a woman who was keeping me prisoner, and there was nothing I could do to escape.
***
Lying here on the bed, I don't really like recalling that memory. It's not a nice one. When I was let out a week later, I needed two days to recover. But I got off easy. Some of my fellow slaves have been in there up to a month. That's more then enough to ensure that someone won't break the rules ever again. Being the in dark will do that to you.
That was a long time ago though.
And since then…things have changed. Like Samantha, I have gotten used to my situation, my lot in life. This is what I am, where I am. And it turned out that Colleen was right. It really isn't so bad here. I don't have to worry about bills or taxes, if I'm going to eat or not. We get to watch movies, get to read books here. Even play some video games or two.
I think that if a person is kept in captivity long enough, they will eventually become used to that lifestyle and cannot imagine anything else. Grim yes, but true. It's happened to me. I don't know if I'll ever get out of here, or if I'm going to stay here until the day I die. Perhaps I'll just have to wait and see. I'd like to think I'll get out of here and take Samantha, and all the others, with me. But until that day comes…I'll just have to wait.
There's a knock at the door. "Clark. Time for the morning's chores."
"I'm ready." I call out to Mistress. There's a twist of a key and the locks on my door are undone. And there she stands herself…Mistress. She's carrying a pair of wrist and ankle manacles with her. My arms are at my side, and my legs are together. I'm ready. "I'm going to lock you in now." She says. Walking softly, like a gentle wind, she comes up to me. A few quick clicks, clasps, and the manacles go on. I'm used to them, so I no longer flinch like I once did.
"For today, I want you to dust the dining room and the library, then clean the windows in the church, understood?" I nod. "Very good then." A gag is inserted into my mouth. I accept it, letting it slide down on top of my tongue as the back is locked. "I will see you at the noon-day meal."
With that, Mistress walks outside the room and back downstairs. I lie in bed for a few more moments, pondering my day. Those chores are going to take some time to finish. But if I get started on them now, I can have them done by noon and have the rest of the afternoon off. And then maybe I can spend some time with Samantha. Yeah…that sounds like a plan.
Getting up off the bed, I stretch as much as the manacles will allow me to. The rubber of my suit squeaks as it too stretches. And then I walk to the door, to head downstairs and start cleaning.
It's going to be a big day.
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12.05.07 | updated - 06.05.17