The enslavement of ding-dong

by Kevin's Path

30 Apr 2018 5582 readers Score 8.2 (31 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Sanjay had lost his scholarship and been expelled from school. He had done an exceptionally dumb thing by mailing an anonymous valentine to a girl he liked. The valentine came with a cute stuffed teddy bear holding a small box of chocolates. He really liked this girl in his psychology class, but he’d never actually talked to her. But, the exceptionally dumb part was that the bear had a wireless webcam built into it. When she opened it and put it in her room, he was able to log in on his laptop and see everything. He watched the girl undressing or asleep in her room and masturbated to her. This went on for a month or more before he got caught.

There was a disciplinary hearing. The girl was reluctant to press charges and deal with a criminal prosecution, but he was profiled in the campus news and expelled, and everyone knew why. Since being banned from the campus, he was now living out of his car. He moved it every few days so that no one would find him or realize he was homeless. He didn’t want to go home to his parents. He hadn’t told them anything about it yet. There was also a real possibility the girl might yet be persuaded to go to the police. He could still go to jail and have to register as a sex offender. He’d ruined his life to get his dick hard spying on a pretty coed student.

Sanjay had come to disgrace. He was afraid to be seen by anyone. He didn’t want to be found. He was friendless. He didn’t want to face his family. However, someone else was looking for him. Someone else did find him. This someone would grant him his wish to be never seen again.

Sanjay was sleeping one night in the back seat of his car, which was behind a dumpster and under a willow tree in the back of an empty parking lot. But, he was nevertheless being watched. His kidnapper had been stalking him now for a week and had by now worked out a plan for taking him. He simply drove up to him in a black SUV, shined a flashlight into Sanjay’s car, and knocked on the frame to wake him.

“This is the police. I need you to step out of your vehicle.”

Sanjay blinked awake into the blinding flashlight.

“Officer, sorry, what’s the problem?”

“You’re trespassing on private property. I need you to step out of the vehicle.”

Sanjay was groggy but becoming scared. This is exactly the kind of trouble he’d been trying to avoid. He opened his driver side door and stumbled out into the dark lot. The only lights were the headlights of the SUV and the flashlight aimed in his face. Sanjay couldn’t see the police officer at all. Before Sanjay could even think to ask a question or try to talk himself out of this situation, he felt a handcuff lock onto his right wrist while his left wrist was taken firmly in a gloved hand, pulled behind his back, and cuffed to the other wrist.

“Officer, please don’t arrest me. Could you let me off with a warning? I didn’t think anyone would mind.”

Sanjay was leaning forward onto the trunk of his own car while the police officer leaned into him, pinning him and holding him down with a gloved hand in the middle of his back. Sanjay was shirtless, wearing only boxer shorts. His captor calmly walked him over to the back of the SUV and gently sat him down in it, cradling Sanjay’s head to save him bumping it on the door.

“I have to take you into the station. You will be charged with vagrancy. There have been complaints.”

Sanjay felt ashamed and guilty and maybe somewhat relieved that his problems were being taken out of his hands now. Once he is arrested, his family will be notified. They will come to find out about his sexual misconduct, his expulsion, his subsequent vagrancy, his total disgrace. There was no way to avoid it anymore.

“Now, please lie down in the back seat for me.”

Sanjay thought the request odd, but he was resigned and compliant. He lay down on in the back seat putting his bare feet up. The officer appeared to be helping Sanjay lie back by holding his ankles together while Sanjay scooted on his buttocks across the seat and then gently leaned backward to horizontal, but the officer produced a second pair of cuffs, which he immediately locked together onto both of Sanjay’s ankles. Sanjay was now hobbled on his back. The officer shut the car door and locked him in.

Sanjay’s kidnapper came around to the car door on the opposite side of the SUV. Opening it, he shined the flashlight again full into Sanjay’s face. Sanjay opened his mouth to ask if he could have his clothes out of his car, but a black rubber ball gag was pushed in firmly with that gloved hand. Sanjay’s head was lifted up, and the ball gag was buckled behind his head. His mouth that had been just starting to speak was now forced wide open with his tongue trapped behind the thick rubber. A pair of blacked-out ski googles was also quickly fitted over Sanjay’s head to blind him.

Again the car door closed, and his captor went back to the hatchback of the SUV for some supplies. Then he again opened the door at Sanjay’s feet. He inserted styrofoam blocks between Sanjay’s knees and between his ankles so that his legs and ankles were held apart as far as the ankle cuff chain would allow. He started at Sanjay’s feet working upward, lifting Sanjay’s legs while winding a 500 foot roll of 14 inch wide clear plastic wrap around tightly. When he got up as far as Sanjay’s upper thighs, he paused to cut the waistband of Sanjay’s boxer shorts and take them cleanly off him. Sanjay’s penis was being handled, and he suddenly felt the painful sensation of an incontinence clamp snapping tightly closed to flatten out the shaft of his tool, preventing any piss from leaking. And, then he also heard the strange tinkling sound of a bell. Inexplicably, there was a bell hanging off the piss clamp on Sanjay’s cock!

Sanjay realized that this was not a lawful arrest but was instead something altogether different. But, he became petrified with fear and couldn’t think of any way to defend himself. He began to make various utterances into his ball gag which were neither words or screaming but more just failing efforts to sound the world and then hear any echo back that would make sense.

The kidnapper got into the back seat and lifted Sanjay’s hips. He fastened a diaper around Sanjay’s waist because he knew Sanjay would soon be mummified in completely immobilizing bondage and would need to remain so throughout a long car ride. He then continued wrapping up Sanjay’s waist and torso. Rather than lift Sanjay’s upper body repeatedly to pass the plastic wrap underneath, he now held the roll fixed and began turning Sanjay over and over in the seat by grasping his shoulders and torqueing him. He didn’t stop wrapping Sanjay at the neck. He continued to tightly wrap the plastic around Sanjay’s face and head. Then, he shoved his fingers through the plastic into Sanjay’s nostrils to open up airways for his breath. He felt to make sure that Sanjay was breathing well through the nose holes.

Sanjay was able to wriggle fish-like underneath the glistening plastic wrap. His captor began to prevent his movement by wrapping roll after roll of gray duct tape around Sanjay over the plastic wrap. He especially piled it on around the knees until the legs couldn’t bend. Then he layered a lot of it between the upper thighs and abdominals until any effort to bend at the waist and sit up became impossible. He brought out a neck brace and applied it around Sanjay’s neck to prevent him lolling his head around, and then he lightly taped all around the neck brace too. He applied duct tape in strips all over the face and head, layer after layer covering everything but the nasal passages.

When finished, Sanjay was completely immobile in the back seat. His utterance through the ball gag underneath all those layers was very faint. Only Sanjay’s bare feet were visible. His feet at the ankles were flexing rhythmically, and his toes were curling. The kidnapper touched Sanjay’s feet and rubbed them. The feet were warm, and he could feel the pulse of his blood in them; so, he knew that his captive had adequate circulation.

He leaned down toward the side of Sanjay’s head, and he spoke to him now. Sanjay’s ears were pinned back and squashed against his skull by layers of plastic wrap and duct tape, but he could hear things faintly.

“I will take you with me on a journey. When we get to the end of it, you will be in your new home. There, I will have complete control over your body and your mind, and you will serve me as my slave.”

As he spoke he fastened a small triangular nasal inhaler mask over Sanjay’s nose, which was attached by some tubing to a cylinder of anesthetic gas. Sanjay began to smell an organic vapor with an odor like camphor. He had no choice but to breathe it.

“I read about you. I know what you’ve done. You are quite a little sex fiend and are paying a price for it. When we get where I am taking you, that will be behind you. You won’t need to worry anymore about being a sex criminal. You won’t look at girls anymore or masturbate anymore. I’ll train you. I look forward to it. No one else wants you, but I will care for you.”

Sanjay was becoming light-headed and dizzy. He couldn’t tell if he was lying down or standing up or on his back or his stomach.

“If I leave you fully conscious, you will start to feel very uncomfortable soon. Your joints will ache from immobility. You will be in too much distress to rest and sleep during the journey. As you continue to breathe this vapor, you will start to feel like you are out of your body, and you won’t hurt. You will still be semi-conscious, but it will be a kind of a waking dream. You’ll occasionally fall into a light sleep on the way. If you are understanding me, wiggle your left foot three times.”

Sanjay wiggled his right foot three times. The man laughed and rubbed his mummified head.

“It’s the other left foot, genius.”

Then he added, “Don’t worry about breathing the gas. I’m an anesthesiologist. I know what I’m doing.”

The man continued to rub Sanjay’s feet, and he saw that Sanjay’s feet began to slow down in flexing and toe curling. His pulse was still strong. The man clipped a pulse monitor to Sanjay’s left big toe.

Sanjay felt himself floating in a dark warm space. He wasn’t passed out unconscious, but he no longer knew where he was. He forgot that he was bound in a stiff tight cocoon in the back seat of a black SUV. He vaguely remembered being arrested, but it seemed very remote.

This man’s name was Darius. He gently rolled Sanjay off the back seat down onto the floor of the SUV. The floor was padded and well prepared for the captive. He packed rolls of bubble wrap around both sides of the cocoon to keep him fixed in place wedged between the front and back seats. The two naked feet continued to slowly flex and curl, questing like the antenna of a blind cave bug. There were slow faint breathy sounds. The cone of the nose mask was fogging up with exhaled condensation. Darius now folded forward and down the back-seat rests so that the upper parts of the back-seats and head rests came down horizontal on top of Sanjay’s chest and legs. He then spread out a wide blanket over the entire cargo area of the SUV and tucked it in around the seat edges. Sanjay’s tightly bundled form was no longer visible at all.

Darius sat down a moment now to catch his breath. He was nervous now. This capture had succeeded, but he felt exhausted by it and became afraid that he would now make some mistake. He began to tic. It began in his left shoulder and then was accompanied soon by a rhythmic hard squinting in both eyes. Darius had been able to keep himself together in that moment when perfect execution mattered. Now his control was slipping. He had a nervous disorder.

“Whoot! Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoot!”

He developed an urge to start hooting loudly in the dark empty parking lot now because he felt anxious about getting away unseen.

Darius was anxious now to get his prize home where he was prepared to keep him in bondage, punish him, and rule him. After weeks of planning and surveillance of Sanjay, after waking him startled from sleep in nothing but boxer shorts, Darius wanted him now with more than an analytic interest. This guy’s life was messed up, but he had a good body. Darius would keep him naked and fuck him like a beast and make him arch his back and pump his hips to ring his penis bell. Thinking about all this made him feel more in control again.

Sanjay came momentarily awake in his bondage. His eyes fluttered open but saw only darkness, He could feel the ski mask tightly pasted to his face by all the plastic and tape. His breath quickened. He felt wetness around his lips and chin due to drool escaping under the ball gag. His tongue was jammed uncomfortably into the back of his mouth behind the ball. He managed to very slightly move his head in a futile attempt to get the gas inhaler off his nose. It had a strong odor. He flexed his abdominals hard and sucked in his breath attempting to sit up, but he didn’t know he was entombed underneath the seat rest. With his utmost effort, he elevated his chest about one inch off the floor and hit the unyielding seat cushions directly over him. The exertion caused him to breathe harder and faster. Sanjay belatedly realized he was inhaling too much of the gas now, and then he didn’t realize anything else.

Darius notices the transient quickening of the pulse monitor followed by a return to a docile light sleep. His hostage will continue to experience occasional moments of wakefulness. In those moments, he will achieve a level of consciousness sufficient to remember he is a prisoner bound away for enslavement. He will feel some of the pain of being unable to move at all and will panic with occasional soft moans that no one will hear, but any effort to move or fight against the bondage will increase his respiration rate until he inhales more gas and quickly loses awareness again.

Darius went back across to Sanjay’s car and popped the trunk. There was a big battered suitcase that contained all of Sanjay’s good clothes. There was also a laundry bag full of his dirty clothes. Darius took both to sort through later. He might keep some for himself to wear in front of his naked prisoner, and the rest he would discard. There was also a milk crate with Sanjay’s school books and some other possessions. There was a cardboard box with assorted graphic novels and some porn in it. The back seat of the car had an unzipped wide-open sleeping bag and a rolled up blanket used as a pillow. The windows were down in the vehicle, because it was a summer night uncomfortable without air conditioning. There was a strong smell of Sanjay’s body odor in the sleeping bag from all the nights he had been sleeping rough here. Sanjay had recently lacked access to any place to shower since losing his dorm housing.

There was some Chinese on the car floor, and there were socks tucked into the corner of one seat. Darius reached in and felt the wetness of Sanjay’s cum in one of them. This loser had jerked himself off even tonight thinking his perverted thoughts about the girl he’d spied on. Darius found Sanjay’s wallet, laptop, and cell phone in the front seat. He made a quick decision that he would cut up and shred any credit cards or identity documents and bury them tonight before leaving. He didn’t want to leave any paper trail on the planned road trip; so, he took out scissors to destroy the boy’s passport, driver’s license, library card, and anything that identified him. He kept the remaining cash in the wallet. Reluctantly, he destroyed the bank ATM card. He couldn’t ever risk trying to use that. He loaded all the contents of Sanjay’s car into the hatchback of the SUV and shoved the stuff all the way forward so that Sanjay’s pile of possessions further hid him down on the floor. Finally, Darius unscrewed the license plates from Sanjay’s car and removed the registration and title from the glove compartment. He left Sanjay’s keys in the ignition of the car with windows open. The car was left there empty and open for taking with nothing to identify its previous owner.

Sanjay had been arrested at about 2:30 am in the morning. By 8:00 am the SUV was well out of town and had been on the highway non-stop for about 4 hours and gone over 200 miles. They were making good time. Darius glanced at the pulse monitor which was riding beside him in the passenger seat. He saw that the heart rate had increased again to a level indicating consciousness. His passenger in the back was awake again. He would be hearing the engine run, and would be feeling the periodic bump-bump of the front and back wheels as they roll over seams in the pavement of the highway. He would be awake enough to know he was being driven down the highway. The pulse monitor continued this way for a long time before dropping down again.

“My slave is intelligent. He realized he would pass out faster if he tried again to move or speak.”

Darius knew that Sanjay had been a physics major in school before he got kicked out. He started to rehearse a mental check list of things he would do to the slave once he got him safely home:(1) keep the slave naked and sometimes wear his own clothes in front of him; (2) fuck him like a beast while never letting him get off; and (3) keep him ignorant and starved for knowledge so he only thinks about me.

At this point Darius slowed down the car, because he was entering a toll plaza. He became apprehensive because he realized that he would need to interact with the person at the toll booth. And, he started to tic again.

“Whoop. whoop. ahah! dingdong dingdong dingdong,” he said compulsively to the toll-taker who looked at him strangely.

Darius handed him the toll money but still had to wait for change. Why did he not remember to bring exact change? He became afraid to call attention to himself, and the apprehension was going to make him erupt with more weird tics. The toll-taker began to hand him the change. Darius tried to stop it, but it was like trying to stifle a sneeze.

He shouted into the booth, “kidnapper! kidnapper! sex pervert!”

The alarmed toll-taker stepped back aghast.

Darius hastily apologized, “Sorry, sorry, so sorry! I’m not a kidnapper, really. I have Tourette’s Syndrome. It makes me say weird stuff sometimes. Whoop! ahah!”

Fortunately, the toll-taker seemed to understand that and said “Well then, I guess I’m disappointed to know you’re not a sex pervert either then. It’s a dull day we don’t have any sex perverts coming through the toll.”

Darius took the change and drove through sweating bullets. Why of all things? That’s the last thing he wanted to say out loud. It’s because he’d had no sleep and he was exhausted from all this. Kidnapping is stressful, and he realized he was getting too tired to control it. Darius decided to pull off the highway at the next rest stop along the toll road. He really wanted in the worst way to hurry home and play with his shiny new sex slave, but he needed to take a nap so that he could stop screwing up.

He parked in an out-of-the-way spot, popped the hatch, and lay down in the cargo area with his head above Sanjay’s naked feet where they poked out of the wrapping on the car floor. He pulled out Sanjay’s sleeping bag from the pile and put it under himself. He took his shoes off. He reached down with one arm toward the floor and played with Sanjay’s feet. He got the compulsive urge to repetitively squeeze the slave’s toes one-by-one and then tickle the soles of his feet. Sanjay’s feet began to twist and writhe around to get away from the toe squeezing and tickling. He had to do that continuously for about three-quarters of an hour until the feeling subsided, and then he could doze off for a bit.

At some point Sanjay began to struggle and soundlessly gasp for air through his nostrils because of the sudden intense sensation of tickling after six hours of total sensory deprivation. Then, he also passed out and dozed for a bit.

If you are ever involved in a kidnapping, try to understand that it can be a very stressful experience for both the captor and his captive. It will be a better experience for both of you if you can just have a little empathy and cut the other guy some slack (without letting him get free, of course.)

They started out together again at about 12 noon. Darius stopped for gas and pumped it himself; so, he didn’t have any additional close calls due to blurting out strange things to the station attendant. They drove continuously for another five hours, finally stopping at a Motel 6 in the late afternoon.

At this point Sanjay had been lying mummified on the floor for about 14 hours. He felt increasing confusion and distress in his moments of wakefulness. His body hurt from being compressed and immobile. His bladder was getting uncomfortably full. His penis hurt from being clamped shut. The warmth from all his built-up heat made him uncomfortable and sweaty. Sweat pooled in all the crevices of his body with nowhere to go. He was sealed air-tight. He couldn’t even let loose a fart, because there was no room for it. His head hurt because his aching jaw was forced wide open all the time, and his neck was being constricted by the thick neck brace. His stomach hurt, and he felt very thirsty. He moaned with increasing regularity, but it still wasn’t audible. His pulse was still very steady on the monitor kept on the night stand in the motel room; so, Darius was not worried at all.

At about 8 pm that night the SUV in the parking lot had been sitting idle in the parking lot of the motel now for about 3 hours. Sanjay lay awake and still in his bondage. He was purposely taking very shallow breaths and depriving himself of air so that he would avoid breathing enough of the gas to pass out again. He was worried what was happening now.

“Why is everything so quiet? Is this the place where he is taking me? I don’t sense his presence here at all. Where did he go? Is he just going to leave me here? What’s going to happen to me?”

Sanjay hadn’t said the word in his mind or thought much about what “enslavement” meant until this time. He didn’t really have his mind around it. He sort-of knew that this was a sex thing and that it probably wasn’t a type of sex thing that would turn him on at all. Sanjay had been called a sexual predator in the recent past. He hated being branded that way. He didn’t see himself that way. He just really, really liked that girl. Why couldn’t she just take it as a compliment that he loved to watch her naked in her room by webcam. He just wanted her.

“But,… the kidnapper wants me. It is kind-of not so different.”

It was one of these weird conversations that you have with yourself when you’ve been mummified.

Darius was in a motel room nearby. He couldn’t risk dragging a mummified body from the parking lot into the room with him. It was best to leave the prisoner in the car, but two matters concerned him that he needed to address before bed. He quietly returned to the SUV. He lay down in the hatchback again, reached down, and pulled the inhaler off his captive’s nose allowing him to breathe fresh air for the first time. He pulled one strip of tape away from over the rubber ball gag and pulled out a small plug. He inserted a tube attached to a water bottle. He spoke down into the floor from above.

“Grunt once if you can hear me.”

He rubbed and kneaded Sanjay’s duct-taped skull and repeated himself.

“Grunt once if you hear me.”

“nguh,” Sanjay grunted back.

“Now grunt four times for me like this: nguh-guh  nguh-guh.”

Sanjay repeated it back, “nguh-guh  nguh-guh.”

“This means ‘Thank you Master.’”

“I removed your inhaler so I could talk to you for a bit and you could respond without passing out.”

Darius waited for a response and continued to knead the taped head.

“If I speak to you or do anything to you, I want you to thank me for it.”

He waited again for a response and eventually got one: “nguh-guh  nguh-guh.”

“I’m going to feed you this water through a tube so you don’t get too dehydrated.”

There was a long pause before “nguh-guh  nguh-guh.”

Darius let the water flow down slowly for Sanjay to swallow. When it was empty he pulled out the tube and replaced the plug and the strip of tape over the ball gag.

Sanjay began to whine and squirm in the bondage now fully awake and somewhat revived. Darius put a stop to that immediately by snapping the inhaler cone down over Sanjay’s nose again cutting off fresh air.

“If you squirm and make noise, I will put you to sleep.”

Sanjay stilled himself immediately; so, Darius pulled off the inhaler again. There was another pause while they regarded each other.

“nguh-guh  nguh-guh”

Darius spoke slowly into the floor while continuing to knead and squeeze Sanjay’s head with his outstretched hand.

“I want to tell you some things. First, you are a very good quiet obedient slave. I am pleased how well you have behaved up until now.”

Sanjay immediately wanted to protest that he’d been often unconscious until now, but he couldn’t and stopped himself from trying to. There was more silence before he suddenly realized he was supposed to be thankful for this.

“nguh-guh  nguh-guh”

“I know it is uncomfortable for you, but I’m confident you will continue to persevere. We’ll get home tomorrow.”

Irrationally, Sanjay did feel suddenly thankful. He was starved for any information what was going to happen to him. As soon as he thought about it, only unknowns and anxiety. Oddly, this was the first time in months since anyone said he was good or told him to persevere.

Darius said, “The second thing I want to tell you is I pissed in the water.”

When Sanjay comprehended the statement, he felt only revulsion and fear.

“I didn’t put very much in to start with, but I’ll increase the piss level later. When we get home, I’m going to make you drink my piss water all the time and thank me for it like you just did.”

There was another long silence. Sanjay didn’t thank him, but Darius got a magnificent hard-on anyway. Darius snapped the inhaler back on over Sanjay’s nose.

“I know you have been trying to fight against the inhaler to stay conscious by taking shallow breaths. You are trying to stay alert to understand about where I am taking you. I can tell when you are doing that because of the pulse monitor. I don’t want you doing that anymore. I want you to inhale deeply and fill your lungs all the way with every breath, and then I want you to hold it for a count of ten before you exhale. And when you exhale I want to hear you grunt four times to thank me with every breath for making all of this happen.”

When Darius snapped the inhaler back on and started talking this way, Sanjay froze and panicked and started doing all of it – the giant deep breath, holding count of ten, the four grunts, and then right into the next deep breath. He felt terribly afraid what would happen if he didn’t obey. Then, he became dizzy, disoriented, even euphoric – states of mind that an anesthesiologist would recognize and anticipate. Before long, he was out of his mind again.

On the following morning they started out again. The remaining travel was very uneventful. Darius glanced at the pulse monitor often. He saw that the slave’s pulse still sometimes quickened, but it always rapidly sank back toward unconsciousness. He was inhaling the gas deeply instead of fighting it, thanking his master with every lungful to knock himself out again for fear of punishment otherwise.  There was no way he’d ever deduce the location where Darius was taking him. Darius wanted him to have no coherent memories of arriving at his place of confinement.

Darius noticed that he didn’t have any tics when he was fully in the mode of commanding his slave to obey. He was not worried about the idea of manifesting his tics in front of the slave, but he expected that part of training the slave will necessarily be making the slave act as if normal and not react to all the whoots, wincing, inappropriate blurting words, compulsive touching, and other manifestations. He was surprised he wasn’t doing any of that with him. Being with the slave made him operate in a different frame of mind where the tics didn’t come.

The only other place in his life where he could manage to be tic-free was in his work environment. Darius was an anesthesiologist at a county hospital near his home. It is a surgical support role with a highly structured work routine. Every minute of his time was dedicated and scheduled there. He always had the next checklist to go through or the next protocol to run. In that type of environment, he could succeed for a while in leaving himself behind and living only for the execution of goals in a way that freed him from his disability.

But, if Darius were then invited out for a drink after work with his colleagues at the hospital – in any type of social environment that isn’t a command-and-control problem with a clearly defined objective to be met, here, he starts to tic like crazy. People notice. His colleagues feel pity and try not to notice. It becomes obvious that Darius isn’t normal. So, he doesn’t ever do these things. He never has a drink with a colleague at work. He never goes out on a date. He never even talks to anyone outside a professional context. Darius is lives a solitary closed-off isolated life.

At some point in time, Sanjay woke up inside of his master’s house with no memory at all how he got there. He couldn’t remember the kidnapping event itself in the parking lot or anything of his semi-conscious experiences being driven in the SUV. Some of these memories returned to him in time, but at the first moment of waking, he had no idea. Imagine you are reading this now, and at this point here --> X <-- you suddenly pass out and then awaken in bondage in a strange house. It was exactly like that.

Sanjay woke up looking at a wall with a sign in black letters on the wall that said “DRINK!” He saw that there was a tube coming out of his mouth going off to one side into a four liter bottle of slightly yellow water that was hanging above the level of his head. He was thirsty; so, he tentatively started to suck on the tube and drink it. It tasted funny, but once he’d started to draw it out, the piss-water continued to flow steadily into his mouth because of the siphon effect. Sanjay realized that he couldn’t stop the flow once started, and he soon found himself gulping it down rapidly. He nervously watched the entire contents of the bottle siphon out into him.

There was nothing after that. All he could do was look at the wall. There was no sound. He couldn’t see behind or below him. He didn’t understand it.

His penis was hurting him. He tested his arms and legs and found he couldn’t move them. What the fuck is this? He tried to say that and realized his mouth didn’t work. After he had been looking at the wall for some time, he noticed that there was something else here –  a camera. It was in the periphery of his vision on the right side pointed at him. He could pivot his head slightly left and thus discovered that there was also another camera aimed at him from the left.

Then suddenly, he is somehow moving even though he still can’t move. He sees himself back away from the wall from the sign saying “DRINK!”, and he’s coming out into a hallway, moving down the hallway.

No. He’s rolling! He is rolling down the hallway. For a moment he thinks he is doing it and that he wants to go down the hallway – because, otherwise why would it be happening?

Darius had just unlocked his super-cool slave storage closet where he’d planned to keep Sanjay whenever not in use. It is essentially a narrow broom closet about 30 inches wide x 40 inches deep. There is a lightbulb in the ceiling which he can turn on and off from outside. There are four video cameras, one infrared camera that operates in darkness, and one microphone – all recording and streaming always. The door to the closet locks from the outside with a deadbolt.

Darius unlocked the wheels on the slave’s high-chair, which is an appliance he’d purchased and was eager to try out. It seemed so far like an effective way to keep the slave restrained at times when Darius couldn’t be there or when he was asleep. He backed it out of the slave closet and pushed it down the hallway. It maneuvered very well.

Sanjay saw himself turn left out of the hallway and into a white room, and then he saw himself come to a stop in front of a standing full-length mirror.

Sanjay had thick dark curly hair that covered his ears and bangs that came down over his forehead. His skin was a medium tan color. He had a neat triangle of dark curly hair on his chest. He had always been a little embarrassed by his nipples which had silver-dollar sized aereolas – unusually large for a man. He had bushy black pubic hair, fine dark leg hair, and small tufts of hair on his toes. His armpits were dense and full.

But, changes had been made. He stared at himself, but he couldn’t assimilate all that he was seeing. The dark curly hair on his head was gone, and he was entirely scalped bald. As he continued to blink and stare at himself, he thought something else was missing and realized his thick black eyebrows had been also removed. It made his face look blank – empty, as if he’d been erased. His ears were covered by noise canceling headphones, which explained the disorienting silence he’d been experiencing. He was, of course, nude. He saw that his body hair was also entirely gone. He was astounded. How much time had he lost? When had all this happened to him?

He was seated in a tall narrow high chair. His wrists were locked into stocks on either side of his hips so that his arms were pinned extended at his sides and slightly behind him. There was a horizontal metal post passing tight across in front of his hips that prevented him from rising out of his seated position. There were belts going horizontally around his chest and stomach to keep him upright against a back support, and his neck was fixed upright in a wooden stock with a wide thick collar holding his head straight above the stock. The collar was easily five inches high above the neck stock, and it extended out around past Sanjay’s ears.

He looked at his own face and saw the tube coming out of a ball gag leading to the empty hanging piss-water bottle . He saw that there was still a transparent plastic inhaler stuck on his nose. He’d forgotten about the gas but started to remember now. He sniffed and realized the gas wasn’t on. He started to remember how he’d been kidnapped.

It was literally breathtaking what was done to Sanjay’s penis, because he began to hyperventilate and gasp for air when he recognized what was there. It was way more involved than just hanging a bell. There was a walnut-sized silver sleigh bell bolted to the top of this penis head, and then there were two more walnut-sized silver sleigh bells stapled into both sides of his of his ‘shroom too. It looked like a gleaming silver trefoil on the end of his tool.

Sanjay had an intact foreskin; so, his penis head would normally be hidden inside of his foreskin, but these three bulbous objects held his naked glans out in full view and caused the foreskin to ride up on his shaft. There were also three smaller hazelnut-sized silver bells on the shaft behind his penis head. They were all pierced onto the outside of the foreskin itself in the same trefoil pattern. But, these bells were all on metal posts that were anchored on the inner surface of Sanjay’s foreskin by three marble-sized metal ball bearings. His foreskin was stretched very tight, bulging and pushed out away from his penis shaft, flaring slightly open at the end like a partially opened umbrella due to the ball bearings underneath it to anchor the second set of jingle bells studding the outside. Then, there were two thick one inch wide elastic bands stretched tight over his penis shaft higher up past where the foreskin merges with the penis. These bands constricted Sanjay’s meat higher up so that it had the appearance of flaring out trumpet-like with his bulbous cock-head toward the end. Each of these constrictor bands also had three smaller macadamia nut-sized jingle bells on the top and two sides.

In addition to all that, Sanjay’s penis was locked into a metal chastity cage that had a long urethral insert with a tightly curving downward angle. It skewered Sanjay’s penis on a rail. The only way he could get hard was for his meat to swell and travel in an awkward bending arc along the metal rail. There were also two outer rails curving down the length of this shaft running to the left and right sides of the column of jingle bells on the top of his sausage. The outer rails met with the inner impaling rail at a junction two inches down below the head of his penis train. At the junction, there is a drain spout for urination, and there is a unified return rail that goes back up under Sanjay’s balls and attaches to a thick   locking cockring. His genitals looked freakish and fearful to touch as if bulbous metallic growths were attached. Sanjay’s meaty cock was overloaded with hardware.

In addition to all that, the thick locking cockring has a wide semicircular frontpiece that is mounted above the cockring itself and covers a portion of the denuded area where Sanjay’s pubic hair had been. This frontpiece contains in it a loud brass circular mechanical bell with a spring-loaded clapper. It is essentially the mechanism for an old-fashioned wind-up alarm clock installed just above the base of Sanjay’s penis – except it does not measure time. Darius hold s a wind-up key to load the spring for this alarm bell. He will insert the wind-up key into a hole on the frontpiece and will simply wind Sanjay up like a toy. Sanjay’s “penis alarm clock” will start ringing with a loud clanging sound and thudding vibrations into Sanjay’s groin whenever either of the two penis constrictor bands becomes stretched by the erection of Sanjay’s penis. Any attempt by his penis to erect itself by thickening and painfully blindly inch-worming itself down along the curved impaling rail will trigger the penis alarm.

It’s not cruel. It’s justice. It’s not right that Sanjay got away scott-free with violating someone’s privacy using a webcam and now even today still could possibly get himself off enjoying the memories of spying on a naked woman unaware. So now, if he even thinks of her in private thoughts long enough to get a chubby, his alarm will clamor to announce the fact. Darius will tally up his demerits and punish him for every time. It might not be trainable. Sanjay is 20 years old. He probably can’t entirely prevent himself from hardening his dick, but that doesn’t matter. He needs to be punished for it – every time.