1. A SLAVE'S LIFE


    Date: 3/6/2015, Categories: Anal, BDSM, Gay Male, Author: klammer, Rating: 67, Source: xHamster

    was about seven!). Ultimately the guard leading me came to an external door, and there was another guard sitting behind glass in a little cubicle. "Shipping a slave - permission to leave the building?" My guard asked, and the man in the cubicle reached out with the kind of gun thing you see at checkouts in supermarkets, and pointed it at the tag hanging around on my neck. He consulted a screen on his desk, and said "OK, there's a van outside. Door opening." We went out into a yard, that was totally enclosed, where there was a white van waiting with its back doors open. Even if the yard hadn't been totally enclosed and I was worrying about the threat to shoot me, I probably wouldn't have tried to run at this point - it's not easy with your hands cuffed behind your back, you know, especially when the guard accompanying you looks as if he's in good shape and works out regularly. The guard gestured for me to get in the back of the van, then said "It's an hour to the airport. The doors are locked, but we don't want any silly attempts to escape, now do we? You'll see that the floor of the van has he same pattern of lines that we have in the building - any noise, any commotion when we're stopped in traffic or anything and the driver will shock you, or really turn up the juice and stun you." So I lay there in the back of the van, bracing myself with my legs against the walls as it drove through the streets. I tried to imagine where we were in relation to the geography of London, but ...
    we seemed to be taking a maze of normal city road, and I didn't really recognize any of the motorways or anything. The journey went on and on, and I realized that I probably wasn't going to be able to escape - an organization that followed men in transit with some type of tag, and who bothered to have special vans for transporting them, was unlikely to slip up and leave some chink in their arrangements, was it? Still, I might catch a glimpse of a policeman, or an airport security guard of some kind, and then I'd do everything I could to scream and shout and attract his attention. When the van did finally stop and the doors were opened, my hopes were dashed - we were way out on a big concrete space, one of those holding areas you see at airports, drawn up by the side of a big executive jet. No policemen or any other officials in sight! Two of the polo- shirted chino'd guards were standing there, and as they "helped" me out of the van to stand in front of them (rather roughly, I thought). One of them ran one of the scanner things over my tag again, looked at a little inbuilt screen on it, and said to his companion "Yes, this is the one. Let's load him onto the flight." "Look, please. Enough is enough.... Why don't you let me go, and I'll say no...." I never got to finish the sentence, as one of the two guards slammed his rubber-soled boot down on to my naked foot - he pushed it very hard down, almost totally crushing my instep, and I fell to the ground, shouting with pain. The ...
«12...91011...2324»