There’s a difference being in a dark room, like a bedroom, where light is still able to somehow enter the space and the eyes adjust and can make out forms, and a completely blacked out room, where your eyes never adjust to the darkness and it’s pitch black. The cell was the latter. Once the cell door closed and the light went out, the cell was devoid of any light source. I continued to stay kneeling in the same spot, thinking at some point my eyes would adjust and then it would be all right to move around. That never happened.

It was the pain in my knees and arms that finally decided I needed to make a move. The floor was concrete, so my knees didn’t like the very hard surface they were in constant contact with. My arms and my shoulders were also slightly uncomfortable, since the chain connecting my wrists to the collar around my neck was keeping the wrists just above the waist behind my back. It’s not a natural position for the arms and shoulders to be in. If you’ve been handcuffed for any length of time, you know this. Think about that position being pulled up about six or eight inches from where your wrists would fall if they were simply cuffed behind you. It makes a huge difference.

I decided to try to move toward the wall to my right and see if I could lean against it while sitting on the floor. As I moved in that direction, I was quickly reminded of the limited movement I was being allowed due to the ball stretcher chained to the floor. The instant tug I got on my balls was the only reminder I needed.

 

I made a change of plans and attempted to sit down where I was at that moment and see if I could achieve that. It wasn’t easy maneuvering down and getting my butt on the floor while still keeping my balls intact, but I slowly managed it. I was able to sit with my legs crossed in front of me and the chain connected to my balls loosely lying between my legs and balls. Someplace deep in my mind, I decided this was a small victory.

When you’re a slave, though, victories are fleeting moments. The master is always at least one step ahead. I tried to move to one side and then the other to find out if I could touch a wall with my back before the chain was pulled taut. No luck with that. Now I know why John was so pleased with himself when he shortened up the chain. It was the perfect length to provide very limited movement, but not long enough for my body to reach any wall and gain some relief by being able to lean. The best I was going to be able to do was lean my head while the rest of my body was at a steep ankle to the center of the space. That was not going to work at all for any length of time. Also, as I slid around the floor I was moving the piss around with my butt that hadn’t yet made it to the drain. I’m guessing the slope in the floor was ever so slight toward the drain to keep as much liquid on the floor as possible for as long as possible. I’m sure it was another pre-determined thought by John when this space was built.

It finally dawned on me the only position that was going to be acceptable for a some period of time with me shackled, chained and gagged as I was would be to lie down on the floor on my stomach. At least I would be in a prone position and could relieve the stress on my arms from behind. At least I thought it would help. I wouldn’t be in danger of falling over if I fell asleep, either. However, my body would be lying in the piss that still remained on the floor. Not a good predicament, but I would have to deal with it.

I made the decision to lie down and started contorting my body to get into a position to get back on my knees and then slowly take my body down to the floor. It was difficult to do so, given the chain connecting my balls to the floor. But I did get to my knees and somehow made the movements to get down on the concrete. The sound of the chains rattling was constant as I moved my body around to achieve the goal.

As my body hit the concrete, the liquid still on the floor started to make contact with all sorts of places on my body. I was lying in John’s piss. His words came back to me about smelling it constantly. There was no way to escape it now with my head on the floor and my nose so close to it. It was both disgusting and interesting at the same time. I wasn’t exactly a fan of getting and then having to lie in it, but I was thinking how symbolic it was of the journey I was taking with John and the place he was taking me to that I needed to go to. There was a level of submission and acceptance in all of this that was a part of me.

At some point I dozed off, because the rattling of the chains woke me up. My body must have tried to shift and the noise startled me back awake. I have no idea how long I was out for. The smell of the urine still permeated the space and the saltiness of the cum I could still taste in my mouth around the pecker gag. My shoulders and arms were beyond discomfort, and a dull ache had started from my wrists being locked behind my back. It was something I could handle, but I’m sure if I was going to be here any longer the pain would get worse.

I wasn’t permitted to find that part out.

I heard the deadbolts on the door being thrown and the cell door opened.

The space outside the cell was dimly lit, so only a small bit of light entered. As my eyes adjusted I saw a figure of a man standing in the doorway. He didn’t move right away but just continued to stand there looking down at me. My eyes finally adjusted enough to confirm it was John wearing his trademark bdu’s, a black tank top and barefoot from what I could tell.

He stepped into the cell space and reached down and motioned for me to roll on to my side. He took the keys and undid the padlock that connected the ball stretcher to the chain on the floor. This left the chain still locked to the D ring in the floor. Another key unlocked the ball stretcher, and it was removed.

“Stay,” John commanded, and he stepped out of the cell. A of moments later he came back in with a step stool and a length of chain with handcuffs attached to it. He placed the step stool near me and got up on it. Using a padlock, he attached the chain and to an attachment point on the ceiling. The chain hung down above where I was lying, with the handcuffs dangling from the end. John took the stool and stepped out of the cell briefly before returning.

“On your , boy,” came the next command. I rolled back on to my stomach, and John leaned over me and started to release my wrists from the shackles. As each wrist was released, that arm would fall to my body’s side, and as the blood rushed back a searing shot of pain went through each arm. I could feel the steel collar being removed from my neck. I continued to just lay there as the pain slowly subsided from my arms.

I felt John take his hand and put it under my right arm. “Up, now. On your feet, boy.”

I slowly got up and was able to stand. John positioned me in the center of the space. He bent over and used a padlock to secure the chain between the ankle shackles to the center of the floor where my balls had been previously locked. Next he took my wrists and pulled them above my head and locked them into the handcuffs that were hanging above me.

He looked me in the eyes and stared me down.

“I’m going to remove the gag. You are still ordered to remain silent and not speak. Is that understood?” I nodded my head yes. I had no idea how long I had been in the cell, but I was ready for the gag to be removed.

Once John had taken off the gag, he took it with him as he stepped outside the cell and back into the dungeon space. It was a couple of minutes before he returned, and he was pulling something behind him as if it was attached in some way. When he fully faced me I realized what he was holding was the nozzle of a hose, and he was pulling on the hose to get the length he needed to enter the cell.

He pointed the nozzle at me, and the started to come at me with some medium force. It was cold, and I was shocked by the feeling. I started to scream a little and the water stopped. John dropped the nozzle, came over to me and grabbed my jaw with his hand, squeezing.

John looked me in the eyes and said, “I thought I told you no sounds. You are a filthy slave and need to be hosed down. You will take it without any noise coming out of that mouth of yours. Shake your head yes if you understand.” The interesting part of that last comment was John didn’t wait for me to nod. He used his hand on my jaw to force me to nod yes.

He stepped back, and the water started to wash me down again. I clenched my mouth shut and took it as best I could. He ordered me to turn around a couple of times and made sure to soak my back and sides. He gave special attention to my hole when my back was facing him.

When I thought he was done, he stepped very close to me and said, “Open,” indicating for me to open my mouth. He took the tip of the nozzle and put it at the opening of my mouth and pressed the nozzle lightly. He was rinsing out my mouth, and using his other hand on the back of my head he tipped my head forward so the water would run out.

When he was done he stepped out, pulling the hose with him.

He came back after a couple of minutes and said, “Time to let you drip dry. Remember, no sounds, no talking from you. I’ll be back when you’re dry.” With that he closed the door and plunged me back into darkness. I heard the deadbolts being thrown, and I was once again left to my own world in this cell.

I could feel the droplets of water as they moved from my head down my body. Every now and again I would shake myself almost like a dog trying to get the water off of me. It sort of worked, but in the end it was going to take time before I was dry.

I honestly think I was only left like that for maybe an hour or so before the deadbolts were being thrown. Before the door opened, though, the light in the ceiling came on and my eyes were momentarily blinded. I shut them and slowly opened them to get used to the light.

The cell door opened, and John was standing there. He came inside with a water in his hand. He twisted the cap open and put it to my lips to drink. I slowly took the water until the bottle was empty. It was a long time since I had been given any water or for that matter.

“You may speak now, but do so respectfully.”

“Thank you, Sir,” was all I could say for a few moments.

John just stood in front of me and looked. His expression was somewhat gentle. He wasn’t smiling, but I didn’t get a harsh vibe coming from him, either. He took his free hand and rubbed his fingers through my matted hair.

“Sir, permission to speak?”

John looked quizzically at me. “I already gave you permission to speak. What is it?”

“I need to take a piss, Sir.”

“Very well,” he said and he took keys out of his pocket and unlocked the padlock that was holding my wrists above my head. My hands fell down in front of me. John unlocked one cuff and pulled both wrists behind me. He then knelt down and unlocked the padlock keeping my ankle shackles attached to the center of the floor. Once that was done he stood up, used his hands to turn me around facing the cell’s back corner and walked me to the back where the floor drain was located.

I looked at him and asked, “Here, Sir?”

“Yes, I’ll help you.”

He grabbed my cock and aimed it toward the drain. This was slightly humiliating to have another man hold my cock in position while I pissed. Then again, there were a lot of humiliating things I’ve subjected myself to since I met John. I relaxed and let it go, and a stream of piss started to flow into the drain. John shook my cock to get the last dribble out when I was done.

“Let’s get you outside the cell,” he said as he started to walk me back toward the dungeon space.

He guided me toward the bondage chair, which was in the center of the space. On the chair was a towel. He picked it up and used it to finish drying those parts of me that hadn’t dripped dry yet. Once he was satisfied he told me to have a seat.

He looked me in the eyes, smiled a little, then said, “Congratulations, you made it.”

Those three words were amazing to me. I started to well up, and some tears slowly left my eyes. John pulled me into his body and held me tight while I sat there.

“Thank you, Sir. I don’t know what else to say but thank you. You believed in me when I didn’t and I don’t know how to repay you, Sir.”

John took my head in his hands. He smiled, pulled me toward him and kissed me very gently on the lips. It felt so good to be held by him and to be kissing the man who had put me through some of the toughest moments of my life over this weekend.

John pulled back and said, “You did well. I’m very impressed with you, Dave. You had some rough moments, but I knew if I continued to push you that you would find a way to cope and make it through. You crave this experience. You need this experience. You want this experience. And I know you will want it again. And when you are ready, we will discuss what comes next and how to prepare you for it. Before that, though, you and I will meet and discuss this experience. Sometime next week we can plan that after you have time to decompress and have some normalcy back in your life.”

I heard what he said but didn’t completely comprehend it. All I could do was say, “Thank you, Sir.”

“When you are ready, I’m going to start your release sequence. You will continue to do as I say and follow my instructions. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir. Sir, a question. Will I be able to use the shower again before leaving?”

“No,” was how John responded. “I want you to leave as you are right now. You are sort of clean, but not really. I’m betting that even though I can’t smell it, you think you still smell my piss on you and I want you to continue to think that until you get home. You are still my slave until you arrive at your house safe. You came here in nothing but , and you will go home the same way still under my control.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir.” I looked into his eyes and smiled and he smiled back at me.

“You will text me when you arrive home to let me know you got home safely. You are to leave here and go directly there. No stopping on the way for any reason including food. Get home first. Understood?” John said looking directly into my eyes. I nodded my head yes.

“All right, stand up. I’m going to begin your release process. In a moment I’m going to walk you over to the rear dungeon door. I will place a loose hood over your head. After that I will release your shackles. When they are completely off you will kneel down and place your hands on top of your head. You will count silently to one thousand slowly. When you reach one thousand you may remove the hood and leave it on the floor. Remain kneeling and reach forward and open the door. You are to crawl out the door on your hands and knees. When you reach the other side you will close the door. The jeans, keys and wallet are waiting for you in that space. Put the jeans on, grab your keys and wallet and leave.” With that John walked me over to the door facing it.

He placed the hood on over my head and it everything went black. I felt him around my ankles and unlocking and removing the shackles that had been on me for so long. Next the handcuffs were removed and I knelt down as ordered and placed my hands behind my head interlocking the fingers.

I heard John grab the shackles and cuffs and walk across the dungeon space, and I think he put them away from the sounds I was hearing.   A few moments later I heard the main dungeon door open and close. I started to count.

When I reached one thousand I removed the hood and reached forward with my right hand and opened the door. I started to crawl forward and then stopped for a moment. I turned around and took a good, long look at the space I just finished spending a weekend in. There was a mixture of pride and contentment in me. A small smile came across my face. I turned and crawled all the way out, closing the door behind me. I was back in the room with the extra dungeon equipment and furniture. I thought there were more things to try in the future, looking at some of it. Then reality hit me, and I thought I just finished a weekend to hell and back. I needed to take some time to just understand and process all that had happened.

I saw my jeans, wallet and keys near the outer door. I stood up, slipped the jeans on, grabbed the other items, and left the room. Outside the sun was warm and it felt good on my chest. It had been almost three days since I saw sunlight. I wondered what time it was.

I walked out to my car, got it and the clock said three o’clock. It must have been two o’clock when he pulled me out of the cell. He kept his word on the end time of the session. I put the car in drive and headed home. There were so many thoughts going through my head.

When I got home I texted John I was there and he texted back. I got into the shower and took a very, very long, hot shower. It felt so good with the warm water against me. Soaping up felt good. Touching my body felt good. I knew I was going to be aching tomorrow and probably for a few days. Something to remember this weekend by, I thought.

After getting cleaned up, I took a quick drive to get some takeout. By 8 o’clock I was too tired to stay awake any longer and headed to bed. As I was drifting off to sleep I recalled John’s words to me, “I know you will want it again. And when you are ready we will discuss it.”

Deep down I knew he was right and couldn’t wait to discuss with him this past weekend and what might come next.

 

Metal would like to thank socalbd for this story.

 

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Content retrieved from:
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