inescapable
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It was an awesome day out. The sun was shining, and the temp was nearing 80. I could no longer sit in front of the computer and work on the website. So I put on my bicycle riding gear, loaded the Trek into the Subaru, and headed down the highway. I ended up on the Cedar River, where they converted the train tracks into a bike trail.
Putting on my helmet and gloves, I started my ride. Eventually, after an hour, the blacktop trail turned to gravel. I was feeling very ambitious today, so I continued down the trail. I had to be about ten miles from my car now and even further from the city. This was the country, alright. There was hardly a sound except for birds and the sounds of the river flowing over the rocks.
The smell of the spring flowers was strong, and the light green of new growth in the trees was refreshing. I hadn't passed anyone on the trail since it turned to gravel. I guess not many actually take the trail this far up.
The sound of nature was broken by the distant noise of motocross or dirt bikes. I guess they could use the trail since no signs were restricting them. I continued on.
Soon, I could tell the bikes were coming up the trail behind me. I slowed down and let them pass. They were in full MX gear and looked great! I love the boots, helmets, gloves, pants, and plastic MX riders wear. There was some movement in my crotch as I watched them ride northward on the trail. Being in my spandex bike shorts, there wasn't much room for a hardening dick.
I waited for the dust to clear and then continued up the trail. The trail had long ago left the main street that paralleled it. It was great to be alone out in the woods. It was a weekday, and I began thinking about how my Master would have loved this bike ride. The advantages of being self-employed allowed me to get out and enjoy the great day. My thoughts turned to Master again. He is a great man, and I have been in his service for a while now. A bike ride like this wouldn't have been possible without his guidance in getting me into better shape. I'm down in weight now and wear 34 pants, and I have a defined chest, looking good without my shirt. Sir has taken me to the bars a few times in my leather pants and boots, no shirt, but wearing my collar.
I enjoy it when the other Masters look at us. I know I make Sir proud to show me off. At the bar, we are always together. He isn't afraid to hold me; I love to feel his gloved hands on my shaved head. Sometimes he gets rough with me and twists my tits, or I will kneel before him and clean his boots. I enjoy it all; I like making the other boys jealous that they aren't serving a great Master like I am. And I like making the other Master jealous, for they could've had me but weren't patient enough to work with me and find the true boy inside.
As the trail progresses, there is an old train bridge ahead. It is pretty high over the river. As I start to cross it, I hear the sound of one of the dirt bikes ahead of me; the guy on the bike comes up on the trail and blocks the path. I continue to pedal but slowly. He waves with his gloved hand for me to come forward. I am getting a bit nervous. What the hell is going on? I stop in the middle of the bridge. I don't want to show them that I am afraid of them. But I don't want to get into any trouble either.
Just then, the other biker appears on the opposite end of the bridge. This is not what I had planned for the day. I was a bit apprehensive but also getting excited. These guys are wearing the complete MX kit, which makes them look hot! I can't see their faces with the full-face helmets and mirrored goggles. The one before me yells to me to come to him. I decided that short of jumping off the bridge, there wasn't much I could do. I ride up to him and stop. He turns off his bike as the other ride rides up behind me. Looking at them both, I am thankful for the padded bike shorts; they won't notice my stiffening hard-on.
"What are you doing?" the Rider before asks. I tell him that I'm just riding this trail. "Well, there is a fee for this trail. Did you pay it?" he asks. I had never heard of a fee and didn't see where to pay it.
"The fee is that you are gonna suck us off." his comment surprises me. "You're a faggot boy if I ever saw one. So you won't mind doing this!"
"I can't do that for you…I will pay your fee some other way, but I can't have sex with you", I respond.
He asks why, and I tell him I am only allowed to serve one man and am committed to him. They start laughing, and then one notices the chain and lock around my neck. He reaches for it with his gloved hand.
"You're a slave boy, aren't you?" I nod yes. "Damn, this is our lucky day!" he pulls the chain around my neck, my face nearly pressed against his helmet. "Listen, boy, we're all going down under this bridge, and you're gonna suck us off. Since we know you're a slave boy, we might even fuck your ass and play with you all afternoon. And what are you going to do about it?"
I stare into his goggles, wondering what this asshole thinks of me and why he thinks he can get away with this. His partner slaps my head from behind with his gloved hand. "What do you say, boy?"
I can't believe the words came out of my mouth, but they did. "Nothing Sir, I am yours, Sir."
The guy behind me gets off his bike, grabs me by my arms, and pulls me off my bike as it crashes onto the bridge deck. I am positioned to the back of the first biker Honda and forced to sit. Immediately he makes his way off the trail and down under the bridge.
A dirt road and two pick-ups are parked next to the river. One is a nice new Dodge Ram with a canopy, and the other is an older Ford, and I suspect that is how they haul the bikes. They get off their bikes and order me to stand against the bridge's support. I am scared, and well, I am also excited. These guys have the gear that I would love to be wearing. But I am scared because they don't respect my dedication to my Master. If he was here, he would be protecting me against these jerks.
One grabs some rope from the back of the Dodge; I think of him as Red because that is the color of his helmet. The other is wearing a Blue helmet. Red comes to me, telling me to face the support; before I know it, my hands are tightly tied behind my back. He turns me around and orders me to kiss his MX boots. I look down to see them standing on the wet, muddy ground. I hesitate, but he slaps my face with his gloved hand. "Do it, fucker!"
I have no choice; I must obey. Falling to my knees, landing in the mud, I lean forward to kiss Red's boots. He laughs as he stands over me.
Red then orders me to clean all of his boot. They are very muddy. Plus, my mouth was a bit dry from the bike ride. It isn't easy to get into the buckles and other areas of the MX boots.
While I clean his boots, I'm unsure what Blue is doing. Then I see my bike fly off the bridge and land in the river. This shocks me, and I stop licking, but Red taps the top of my shaved head with the sole of his boot, ordering me to continue cleaning his boot.
As I finish the boots, Red lifts one, pushes my head against the bridge support, and wipes the mud on the bottom of the boot on my T-shirt and my face. He orders me to stand and pulls my bike shorts down to my ankles, followed by my underwear. I can no longer hide my excitement as Red looks down at my hard dick, pointing straight at him. "Fuck, he loves what I'm doing to him!!"
Blue, coming down the bank, turns to see my hard dick and starts laughing. "Boy, what you enjoying about this?"
They stand looking at me behind their helmeted heads and goggles, arms crossed, waiting for me to respond.
I hesitate before speaking, "Sir, when you guys passed me in your MX gear, I got hard. I am scared, for you do not respect my Master. But I have to admit that I love your gear!"
"You do, huh?" inquires Blue.
I nod my head that I do indeed like the gear.
Red leans into Blue as they discuss something between themselves. I stand with my hands tied against the bridge support, fully exposing my manhood to the surrounding nature.
Nodding, the two laugh and step toward me as they remove their helmets. They smile at me. Red speaks, "Boy, I have decided to suspend your fee for the path. But in doing so, I have also decided that you will take a new path." Red comes to me, takes the sweaty bandana from around his neck, and ties it around my eyes. I am plunged into darkness.
A wadded glove is placed in my mouth and secured with another bandana, likely from Blue.
I am led to the truck, and I sit on the tailgate. My shoes and socks are removed. I am now naked from the waist down, gagged, blindfolded, and my hands secured behind my back.
Then I feel them dressing me in MX pants, sweaty socks, and strapping the MX boots on my feet. They take some laces from my shoes, tying off my cock and balls tightly before pulling up and securing the waist of the MX pants. My hands are freed, and they pull off my shirt, replacing it with a jersey and chest protector. They tuck the jersey into the MX pants, which fit snuggly. Zipping the crotch tightens my balls into the pants.
They laugh as they toy with my now captive cock and balls. I feel a helmet and goggles placed and secured on my head. Then, they push me into the back of the truck. My hands and feet are tied together, putting me into a hogtie. It is very warm in the back of the truck with the canopy, the sun beating down on it. It isn't long before I am sweating in all this gear. I hear the tailgate slam shut.
Some muffled noises work their way to me through the helmet. I figure they are loading the bikes. Shortly, the truck is running, and I am getting bounced around in the back. I have no idea where I am going. No one knew I was out on this bike ride. And Sir was supposed to call me this evening. But I am helpless. I hope these guys take me home and then let me go.
If I have to have sex with them, I am sure Sir will understand the situation. I hope I do not ruin his trust and respect for me; that is the last thing I want to do. When I do get loose and free, I will find these guys and let them face the wrath of my Master. They won't know what hit them!
My head slams into the metal wall of the truck bed as the truck quickly stops. Thank gawd I am wearing the motocross helmet. But it is still hotter than hell in it. Being blindfolded and gagged makes it worse.
I struggle with the ropes that bind my hands behind me, my legs together in a hogtie. Those dirt bikers did an excellent job at securing me.
As we travel to who knows where I am tossed about in the back of the truck like a rubber ball. Thankfully the gear they put me in has padding, but at times my gloved hands are still crushed by my weight as I roll upon myself. In the bed of this truck, on this summer day, it is like an oven. I feel the weight of the heavy leather boots on my feet, the nylon pants tucked into them, my tied balls inside straining, the long sleeve jersey tucked into the leather gloves, and of course, this chunk of plastic holding my head hostage.
I'm not sure these guys know how powerful my Master is, how he will crush them when he finds out about them. Believe me, he will know. This action that they take cannot be left unpunished. They knew what my collar meant, yet they still used my submissive state to their advantage. They disrespect my ownership and devotion to my Master; how dare they make me suck them off, their dirty biker dicks. If they wanted my services, they should have contacted Master, and he would've either let me or not. But I am not theirs to use as they please.
But still, I can't deny that I am aroused by their power over me. Of course, bondage always makes me very excited. I can't imagine what they might have in store for me; hopefully, it will be short and all end.
It seems they are purposely going around corners at high speed, stop and going more quickly than safe driving would allow only so that I am thrown around more. It is a helpless feeling to be back here, sweating, unable to yell for help, unknown where they might be taking me. At least I know there is only one since the other had to drive the truck with the bikes. When we stop, and he lets me loose, I will take advantage!
As my thoughts of escape continue, the truck comes to a halt. But this pause is longer than normal; I sense the engine is off. But it is difficult to tell with the helmet on. But I do hear the tailgate open. Several items are tossed in, one or two striking me. I moan and jump in my bondage.
"How are you doing, slave boy?" Red asks, pushing his fist into my crotch, smashing my balls.
I moan loudly into the gag. With that, the tailgate is closed.
"Boy, there is to be no sound out of you." I am startled as I hear that Red is now in bed with me as the truck starts to move.
"I’m back here to toy with our new captive while Trev drives us to our destination. Whatever happens, you are not to make a sound. Nothing, fuck head! You got it?!" With that, he slams his boot into my side. I moan only because it is natural to do so.
"Boy, you fucking don’t understand!", again the boots strike me! I learn and stay quiet as the pain shoots through my body.
"Good boy." he pats my cock and balls. "Now let’s check out that slave dick of yours." he states as he releases the Velcro at my crotch and pulls out my bound dick and balls. He twists them in his hands, but I remain quiet. I will not fall to his domination over me. I will remain strong. He starts patting them, almost stinging, then stinging for sure! I struggle in my bondage but don’t moan or scream.
"That’s right, boy, struggle all you want. Feel how helpless you are, but don’t make a noise." he continues this conquest of my balls.
He takes the pain a notch higher by squeezing and slapping my manhood harder. I want out of this bondage now. But as I struggle, my dick gets harder, as he verbally reminds me. My feet pull on my arms as I struggle, and I can’t get released. I sweat even more, feeling it run down my face and into the cloth of the gag.
Red then ties my dick and balls off to some point in the truck, pulling on them. I am on my side and don’t have much balance. As the truck turns, I roll over on my balls or pull away to the other side stretching. Red yells at the driver to swerve some. And it is intense as I wobble back and forth, straining and crushing my crotch. He laughs, sometimes kicking me as he enjoys seeing me struggle. I want to yell but hold it in as the pain hits hard.
Now the pattern of movement seems more up and down. I can tell we are on a concrete freeway by the noise I hear. Damn, where are we going!! I feel him reach for the strap on my helmet, working it. The helmet and goggles come off, and I feel the warm but fresh air strike my wet head. I feel something shoved into my face and the gag removed.
"You know what to do, boy."
I smell leather and then realize his boots are before me. Oh, how can I lick them? I don’t respect him; he doesn’t deserve that kind of attention. Just then, Red strikes my dick hard with something. I jump in pain, almost yelling, as it almost cuts my skin. My tongue comes out quickly, and I start to lick. He brings his gloved hand down my neck, pushing my face deep into the leather of his boot.
As I cover it more and more with spit, my nose and cheeks are covered as they slide around his boot. Red maneuvers his boot so that I can reach some parts. My tongue feels the sole, tasting the dirt and mud. I stop.
Red strikes my dick again. "Taste it, boy, eat it! You slave shit!"
I dig my tongue deep into the lugs of his soles, tasting the rubber mixed with mud. The constant motion of the truck keeps me bobbing from side to side, but not as much as when we were turning. When I finish one boot, he shoves his other one in. As I start licking, he starts stroking my dick. I stop licking Red’s boot as I feel the pleasure of Red’s gloved hand stroking my cock.
I am kicked in the face, "Fuck no, don’t stop, boy!" he hells at me.
I start licking again. The sensations are building in me. I am tied helplessly in motocross gear; he has secured my cock and balls, stretching them as I lick his dirty leather boots. Red pumps my dick over and over as I get near climax. He can tell by my breathing.
"Boy, if you shoot your load in this truck, you’re dead meat."
I am struggling to hold my sperm in. I am so close.
Red whips my dick with a rubber flogger with thin strips, the pain returning me to reality. Over, over, and over, he whips; the pain in my cock feels like cuts to the skin. It takes me out of my pleasure trance and returns me to pain and submission. Red notices this as my cock softens slightly, the urge subsiding as Red laughs loudly.
Pulling his boots out of my face, Red re-gags me with the glove and tape, then puts the helmet back on me. I hear the sound of duct tape, and he tapes the goggles securely over my eyes.
After the taping, Red’s boot slams my head down. "Boy, we own you. You are ours to do as we fuckin’ please." He slams me down again with his boot.
The biker begins to release my boots and hands from their bondage. It feels wonderful to feel the freedom and stretch my legs. Red leaves my hands tied behind my back. Taking my feet, Red holds them to the top of the camper shell. Lying heavily on my back, crushing my hands, I feel the biker tape my feet together. Red continues wrapping the tape down my ankles, then my knees. I feel the nylon and leather against my skin, the sweat running down my open crotch.
Then sheets of plastic wrap are wrapped over the tape. Fuck! He is going to mummify me; I know it. Red begins wrapping, layer after layer, as it gets tighter and tighter. I struggle a bit; he knows that I am scared but knows there ain’t anything I can do about it. Then the sound of the tape again as he covers every inch of my feet and legs. He goes right up to my crotch and stops. The biker lowers my legs with a thud to the metal truck bed.
Then, Red wraps some rope around my neck, sitting me up and securing it to the shell's ceiling. If I move too much, I choke. Releasing my hands, Red quickly tapes them to my side, securing them. Remembering his earlier threat about making a sound, I don’t dare moan at this point, for I don’t know his plans and need to be on his good side.
The plastic wrap begins at my waist, tight and many layers build up my body, around my neck, and over the helmet. Soon, my breathing becomes difficult because the biker has me covered in tape and plastic wrap. I feel the coverage move in and out with each breath. I hope the biker will soon open an air hole, which he does. I breathe easier. Then Red starts with the tape again, covering me with layer after tighter layer.
He covers my neck and up to my head. I must look like a silver mummy by now. Through it all, he leaves my dick and balls exposed. They have gone limp, for I am now scared more than horny. He releases the rope, and I fall hard to the floor. Once again, I am thankful for that helmet.
In all the biker’s work, I realize that the truck has come to a stop. I hear the tailgate open and the bikers talking. Together, they start moving me around, pushing me towards the tailgate; I am now just one big secured mummy as my feet fall over the edge of the tailgate.
"Boy, this is where you get off!"
I am shoved from the gate and land hard in the dirt and grass. I can tell because it is softer than pavement.
"We’re in the middle of nowhere, boy, no one knows where you’re at, and we don’t really care." I am kicked in the stomach.
"We’re out of here!”
I hear their boots as they walk back to the truck, slamming the tailgate closed.
“Good luck, slave boy; I hope your Master finds you before the bears!"
I struggle, yelling into the gag. There are no repercussions for doing so as I hear the truck engine start. Fuck they are leaving me here!
The engine noise fades away. I lay very still; I hear nothing, not a damn thing. I am encased in plastic, tape, gagged, sightless where I don’t know.
I struggle in this cocoon that I’m in. But as I do, I sweat even more. The top of this plastic and tape seem warmer; I must be lying in the direct sun. I manage to get myself to roll on my stomach but only find it more difficult to breathe that way. So, with great effort, I roll on my back. I can wiggle my fingers in the gloves, but he taped my wrists so securely there is no way to get them free. I can feel the beads of sweat rolling from my head into my eyes, causing a bit of a sting. What if they leave me here forever, I will surely die. Of course, I can hope that evening will arrive soon, and things will cool down.
If only Master knew what they have done to me.
Master, He will be arriving home and not finding me there. He will be very upset, and I will be punished. How can I explain what these guys did to me? I can only hope Master will not punish me greatly once he allows me to explain what happens. I know that Master is very considerate of my feelings, and He would never punish me for a situation that was out of my control. But at the same time, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be out riding my bike without letting Him know my plans for the day. I would think that after three years of serving Him, I wouldn’t try to hide things from Him. Perhaps I deserve what is happening.
No, I can’t think that way. What has happened is totally wrong. They have no right to use me as their sex slave. If they should come back, I will not serve them sexually at all. But if I don’t, will I be disappointing Master? They are dominating me, so Master would want me to submit to the more powerful. He has been proud of me in the past when I have done so. I will do what they want. There is also a survival factor; they might let me go if I do as they want. And my goal should be to do whatever it takes to get back to Master as soon as possible.
As time passes, it is getting unbearably uncomfortable in my bondage. The shirt I wear has soaked up sweat until it is soaking wet. The pants are nylon, so the sweat seems to be pooling in them. Occasionally I get hard, but most of the time, I’m not. This is not enjoyment at this point. I try to rest, for it is the only thing I can do.
At some point, I fall asleep as my slumber is broken when heavy pressure pushes on my chest, followed by more. Shit, someone is stomping my chest. There is a slam on the helmet, making my entire body shake.
"Fuck boy, wake up!" I hear the familiar voice of Red.
The bikers have returned. As I wake more, I feel very strange; there is no weight on my body. I’m not lying on my back, or could I be numb? My head is feeling heavy, though. Then I feel a hand on my crotch, and I feel movement.
Finally, I wake up enough to know I am hanging upside down. My feet and ankles are tighter.
"Boy, you’re hanging like a side of beef!" Red’s voice is above me; my head must be hanging at his boot level.
Tape is cut away from the goggles, and I see before me their boots! I am in the woods, someplace I am not familiar with. One of the boots kicks my helmet, and I begin to sway.
The bikers walk over to their bikes that I can see in the distance, climbing on. Starting them up, they rev them. Then I see them both pick up a cattle prod. I know what a prod looks like because Master has used one. I hope my plastic, tape, and gear will protect me.
Blue races off behind me. I can’t move my head, but I soon see the Red racing for me. As he gets close, Red holds out his arm and Fuck!
I feel the shock as he strikes my hip. I sway on the rope, spinning, soon another, as the Blue strikes me. I watch as the forest spins around me. What they are doing shows that I am totally helpless.
The biker turns around for another pass. I am shocked over and over, where ever they can, as the bikers ride by. Since they aren’t wearing helmets, I see the big grins on their faces. I struggle in the bondage, screaming into the gag as they race by again! Blue stops his bike, and as my face passes within inches of his back tire, he roosters dirt and rocks at me. Then he races off.
When they tire of this game, I am weak and helpless. I am too weak to struggle, which disappoints them.
I am lowered to my back. Shortly the tape and wrap are removed, and I feel the cool of the forest air striking my wet body. The bikers walk me over to a tree and have me kneel against it with my back. My hands are tied behind me around the tree trunk, as are my booted feet. The bikers remove my helmet and gag. Before I can move my mouth much, Red’s dick is rammed down my throat. Over and over, he pistons my hole, yet I don’t gag because I am well-trained in cock sucking.
Red nears his climax, pulling out and shooting in my face. I feel it is dripping down my face. I lower my head, but it is quickly lifted as the Blue shoves his dick in my mouth. He is rougher than Red and takes longer to get to the brink. Blue enjoys holding his gloved hand over my nose, watching me struggle with my breathing. But soon, even he is removing his dick and shooting on my chest. I am weak, slumping in the bondage that keeps me secured to the tree.
They roughly put a leather hood over my head and snapped in the gag, leaving me with sight with the holds in the hood. I am lifeless as the bikers walk away laughing.
Eventually, I get some strength back and look around. They have set up a tent and chairs next to the truck. I notice Red approaching. He releases the bondage and gag, handing me a jug of water. I take a sip, and then Red orders me to drink it all.
When I am done, Red snaps the gag back into my mouth grabs me by the shirt, and drags me to a point in front of the camp they constructed. I see before me a staked-out area with string. Handing me a shovel, the biker tells me to start digging.
I pause, looking at the stakes and the two bikers sitting in their chairs, sipping beers, and wondering what they have in store for me. I know I can’t escape as I a so weak, so I start digging, with the strength I pull from deep inside me. I begin to worry that I might be digging my own grave.
After digging for more than an hour, I am stopped, and Red puts a gas mask over my hooded head, removing the gag. It is a rubber hood mask combination as the hose dangles from the front of the mask. I am ordered to continue digging.
In full motocross gear, I am digging a hole that is a good seven feet wide. I hear my breathing strongly as I intake and outtake via the hose. The hole gets deeper; as I look at it, it is about three feet wide by 7 feet long. It is the size of a body, my body. Why would they want to kill me?
I can’t believe I continue to dig. I should stop and let them dig the hole after I am gone. But I guess my strength makes me believe I will live. I will not let them take me. That is a boy with confidence talking, something Master has instilled in me from day one.
As I dig, they sit on the chair watching, drinking beers. Sometimes the bikers verbally humiliate me, and they converse as if I wasn’t there.
Finally, after I have dug to a point where the ground is about a foot over the top of the motocross boots I wear, they order me to stop. I am led to a fallen tree, told to kneel then lay my chest on the tree. Red and Blue use a heavy rope together to secure me to the tree. The MX pants are released and pulled down.
"Now for you to learn our true power over you, fuck boy!" Blue roughly inserts his dick into my ass. I yell into the gas mask. As I do, the hose is blocked!
"Silence or I will silence you!", Red orders.
I take their fucking power in silence. Blue is strong with me, and soon I hear his moan, knowing he is getting close. But he doesn’t pull out.
"This time, you take it, boy!"
I am devastated as Blue shoots his load in my ass! How can he degrade me so! I am a slave, but only take my Master’s cum in my ass! I struggle to get free; I want to hurt this man for doing this to me. But as I struggle, Blue pulls out and is quickly replaced by his partner.
The more I struggle, the harder Red fucks me. I eventually gave up and let him have the control he wanted over me. Red takes his time, taking forever to reach his climax, but he does and eventually pulls outs. He slaps my ass hard and slams a butt plug in my hole. I hear the bikers walk away as I rest on the fallen tree.
It is getting dark in the forest as the bikers return. Release the ropes; Red stands me up, having me pull the MX pants up. They walked me to the pit that I dug. Ordering me to stand in the middle of the hole, they take the duct tape and tightly tape my ankles, knees, and thighs. They tape my gloved fingers together, then put them in a fist and into a ball. My hands are placed at my sides, and tape is wrapped around my wrists, body, elbows, and upper arms. The tape is wrapped around the neck of the gas mask hood. I struggle as they begin to lower me into the pit.
I am laid flat on my back. Then they both pick up shovels. My heart races as they dig those shovels into the pile of dirt from the pit. I scream into the gas mask as the dirt falls on my body. I struggle and wiggle about as I have never in my life, as they load pile upon pile of dirt upon me. The weight begins to measure against me; the bikers don’t stop, making my struggle more difficult. They are burying me alive!
Red stops filling the hole, stepping to look down at me, where he sees the extreme fear in my eyes.
"Where is your Master now, slave?” Red laughs as he looks around the woods. “Looks like we own you!" He tosses a load of dirt on my head; it slides off the shield of the gas mask.
Faster than when I dug it, they are filling the hole. I am a good two feet under the dirt; it weighs against me. I still try to get loose, but it is no use. The dirt made its way up my body until I felt it was closing around my head. They both work as the dirt covers the shield; I scream repeatedly! I fall into darkness, and the weight continues to grow, then changes no more. I realize that my only connection to the outside world is the hose on the mask. This is a situation far too intense for me! Master would never do this to me! Never!
Suddenly I smell rubber and dirt, then the air stops. I breathe in, and the mask clings to my face. I struggle and yell into the mask. Shortly the air begins. Then the air becomes labored as I breathe in, then a little drop of moisture, another, and then a rushing of liquid. I realize that if I don’t drink it, I will drown. I swallow the salty, bitter, beer-tasting liquid quickly as the bikers are pissing. They have conquered me totally! I get through the piss, with the aftertaste lingering.
In my darkness, I hear a voice, "Boy."
Slowly I take it in as Red speaks again.
"Boy, we own you. So you know your Master sold you to us. And now, we are training you! Think of how you will be serving us!"
With that, the air is cut off again. I struggle and then take in the fresh air as it returns. They are lying to me. Master would never sell me! I will survive this! I must survive this!