Fun and Games in the Closet
The morning routine for me was the same as yesterday: startled awake, power washed, change into work clothes sans briefs. At least I got clean clothes. The jeans were maybe a size too small; they fit like a second skin. I got another dress shirt, also a tad tight. I knew I’d get stares and snickers at the office. My metal cock cage sure made a tempting bulge. We had a silent drive to work. This time, however, Sir told me to be available at 10 for a special project.
“Sir, yes, Sir,” came my reply. Guess I was learning.
I fiddled around answering emails until the designated time and then went to His office ten minutes early. Terry nodded to me as I came into the outer room.
“Sir left orders for you to go to the janitor closet at the end of the east corridor. You are to strip off all your clothes and stay there for a half hour. That’s all He said, Dick,” Terry told me.
“Well, OK, I guess I’d, like, better get to it,” was all I could think to say. I was stumped as to what this was all about.
I went to the end of the east corridor, which is kind of deserted. All the offices in that wing were unoccupied and even the corridor lights had been turned off. Light came through from some of the offices which had open doors and there was a window at the very end of the corridor. As Sir had indicated, there was a janitorial closet there. It was small and smelled of musty mops. I tried the light switch, but all the power was disconnected when this wing was shut down. When I closed the door, it was almost totally dark except for a slight crack under the door. I shucked my boots, jeans, and shirt, but retrieved my phone from my jeans pocket. I checked the time; it was 10 on the dot. A text message suddenly popped up: “Feel free to scream.”
OK, then I realized Sir was going to play some nasty game with me, probably using the remote controller on my cock and ass shocking metal cage on my junk. That split second of realization was followed by a strong electrical shock. I screamed from the suddenness and intensity of the pain. “A-g-h!” hurt my own ears in the small closet and I doubled over from the pain. There was barely enough room for this in the small closet and my head lightly scraped the wall.
Another shock. Another loud scream. This one dropped me to my knees. Sir must have notched up the shock level. I knocked over a bucket as I went down. The metal clank was lost in my screams. I had both hands on my crotch, gripping the cock cage, as if that could bring me relief The pain continued for a good ten seconds, which, of course, seemed much longer. When it stopped, I was gasping for breath and groaning from the residual pain in my crotch.
Nothing happened for several minutes, but I was in an agony of anticipation and fear. This waiting, knowing you have no idea when the next shock is coming, is truly diabolical. Your stomach is in one constant knot of fear and you almost throw up from the anxiety. I was naked and felt completely vulnerable, hopelessly tortured by a metal cage locked on my cock and balls and a large metal ball rammed up my ass. There was no way I could get the device off. You usually don’t find bolt cutters in a janitor’s closet. Even then, Sir had said the device would react to any attempt at removal. Probably send me insane from the pain.
The waiting dragged on. My head was totally mixed up between dread, anxiety, defiance, determination not to be broken, and a deep, sexual gratification from the punishment. That’s what sex slaves need: pain, discipline, punishment, abuse, humiliation. I was getting a dose of this in spades.
Then the wait was over, another devastating shock. I screamed and doubled over until my head hit the floor. “AGH! A-A-A-HH!” My own screams were deafening in the tiny closet. My cock, balls, and ass were on fire from the electricity. I knew I would be permanently damaged, ruined for life, if this kept up. It stopped, leaving me almost crying from relief.
My skin was covered in sweat and I was still doubled up on my knees, forehead to the floor. If felt like slave A except this time my position was not voluntary. It was a instinct, an automatic reaction to intense crotch pain. Think of getting kicked in the balls. That’s the kind of pain the device could produce.
My thoughts were shattered as another jolt of electricity had me screaming again. I fell over against the door and wound up in a fetal position, just like being in the hole. There was no escape! All I could do is cord my muscles and scream. And scream. This one went on and on, I don’t know for how long. I completely collapsed when it finally shut down.
I happen to glance over at my cell phone, which had fallen to the floor in my agony. There’s was another message on it: “Several other Masters have joined in on the fun. You have twenty minutes to go until We’re done with you.”
I knew Others at the company also had remote controllers for Their own slaves and for any other slave within range. What I didn’t know was the result of multiple remotes going off totally at random. The shocks came very fast this time, no pattern, . Shock/scream/spaze. Shock/scream/spaze, over and over. I laid on the floor, knees to my chest. My whole body shook with each shock, each scream. All my muscles were cramping from being flexed so hard. My throat was getting sore and my mind was getting fuzzy. The torture just went on and on.
But, like I said earlier, all tortures eventually come to an end. They have to so the next torture can take place. I couldn’t believe it when the wave of shocks seemed to end. I kept waiting for the next one, but there wasn’t any. Guess they were done with me. Or, at least for now. I tried to relax. I mean, the fetal position is sort of comforting, if a little embarrassing. Then I realized I had to piss – and there was no pad like I had in the hole.
Then I realized the torture was truly over, my half hour of agony was done. I laid on the floor until the urge to piss got too strong to ignore. I grunted as I slowly got up from the closet floor. My skin was still sweaty but I had to get dressed so I could hit the men’s room. I felt like a proverbial wet dish rag. All my joints and muscles hurt, plus I was shredded from the screaming and struggling.
I hit the men’s room, the only pleasure I got all day other than lunch with Terry. He told me he know what was going to happen to me when he conveyed Sir’s orders.
“So far that week at least three other slaves had been ‘sent to the closet,’” he said. “I remember my own sessions there. Sir doesn’t send me there anymore, thank God. I guess I’ve graduated from basic training. You’ll see, Dick. Sir has a program and I’m afraid you’re trapped in it. I’m not allowed to tell you more. Sir insists you be surprised at each step.”
“Well,” I replied. “Guess you’re right. Pain, pain, and then more pain.”
“Yup,” Terry said. “That’s the program. From what I’ve seen so far, Dick, I know you can take it.”
All I could do was sigh. That’s my life, now. Terry nailed it: pain, pain, and more pain.
I got a big taste of that later that day when we returned to Sir’s mansion dungeon.
NEXT: Ch 26, Yeah, More Pain