Asian Enslavement 8

Author: jnateb
Title: Asian Enslavement 8
Date: 16 June 2017

Part 8

Last time…

I was now trapped on the dildo by my balls, locked to the exercise bike, and at the mercy of the computer system.

“Exercise commencing.”

The screen flashed red, and I started cycling.

________________

I figured out quickly that the kid wasn’t screwing around with the cycling either. I did a lot more weights than cardio at the gym, and keeping pace was exhausting. I had to keep a pretty fast pace to keep the screen in the green, and it was clearly on a hill interval setting - though the screen only showed colors, I didn’t get any information like you normally would on a cycle. No speed info, calories burned, etc.

And biking with a dildo up my ass didn’t make it any easier.

Finally, after what I would imagine was at least 45 minutes (there were no clocks anywhere I’d seen in the dungeon or exercise space), the screen said, “Complete.” The locking mechanisms on my wrists, ankles, and ball bands disengaged. I stopped cycling and breathed deeply, and lifted myself off the dildo.

“You may have some water.”

I looked around the room for a bottle or fountain… and found a dog dish filling near the shower area. It was on the floor by the wall, and apparently had water pipes under it to fill it. I wasn’t about to actually drink like a dog like he clearly wanted me to, so I went over and cupped my hands to pull up some water. As my wrist bands came by the dish, my balls got a shock. Fuck.

“Place your hands to the sides of the bowl in the marked spaces.”

There were little indentions on either side of the bowl, about 6-8 inches away. I put my wrists in them, and unsurprisingly, felt the locks click. I was now basically locked on my knees by this dish, and had to drink with my face in the bowl. I was again amazed - and scared - by the level of thought that was put into this. He wasn’t even here and I was kneeling and drinking water like a dog. I began to wonder how automated this system was. How long could he keep me down here without even the slightest human contact?

I drank what was in the bowl, flushing red with embarrassment at my position, and waited. The system kept me locked there for a bit, I suppose you could look at it as a rest period, or as just making me wait. I suspected it was the latter. Finally, the bands clicked off the locks.

“Proceed to machine 6.”

It was skipping other elliptical machines and a treadmill, and going to resistance machines. I looked at number 6, and saw it was arms. I sat and gripped the handles, and felt the familiar click of my wrists to little additions on the machine, and my ball band attaching to the seat. Fuck, even for this I was a captive.

“5 sets, 12 reps. You may rest for 60 seconds between sets.”

Standard. I started the reps - the weight was already preprogrammed, apparently. It was perhaps a bit heavier than I normally did, but not unmanageable. The kid was challenging me, but not harming me. The extensive exercise equipment and planned workouts, not to mention the high tech restraints and recharging chamber, made me realize he was most definitely planning to keep me… permanently. I tried to imagine life here. No outside contact, no freedoms… no phone, no Facebook… no travel, no friends. Just day after day of captivity, isolation, service, abuse. Being fucked anally and orally while my own cock was inaccessible. Spending nights in that damned chamber. I shuddered involuntarily.

I would watch for an opportunity, but what I’d seen made me fear that it would not come. He was smart. Smarter than me. Wealthy and willing to spend on extremely high quality equipment. He had a lot to lose too. I was now his captive - if I escaped, he would go to prison. I smiled a bit at the thought - him locked up instead of me. But sadly, I seemed to be pretty effectively his for the time being. I was like a rat in a cage. Or, working out as I was, a hamster on a wheel in a cage, I suppose.

The system put me through an intense workout. Again, no clocks, but I estimated it had to have been 45 minutes of cardio and another 45-60 of resistance training - arms and abs today. I assumed that meant legs were tomorrow, and I hated leg day. I’d worked out with a number of trainers over the years, and some had put me through some pretty intense workouts, but this system he had developed was the most effective trainer on the planet. It did not care if I was tired, if I was sore, if I complained. Which, I couldn’t complain without activating the speech restriction and shocking my balls. But regardless, it was relentless, and expected perfection. It even could sense my form and would correct that as well. I was allowed one water break during it - back on my knees at the dish.

I managed to get through the workout only getting my balls shocked a couple of times for being too late starting the reps again, or once for putting the weight down too hard. It warned me to treat the equipment with care. The little fucker had thought of everything.

It even had me do stretches. A screen activated with a video of a guy doing stretches and the system had me follow along. I’d stretched thousands of times at the gym myself, but the kid wanted it done his way, apparently.

Finally, I heard, “Workout completed. You have 30 minutes to drink, shower, and rest. Your asshole is expected to be kept clean, and an enema nozzle is provided for this purpose.”

After the workout, I was drenched in sweat and tired, and looking forward to a relaxing shower. The water dish filled and I got to rehydrate as I had previously, on all 4s like a dog. Once released, I walked over to the shower area. There were dispensers labeled for shampoo, soap, face wash, and so forth. But no way I could see to turn on the shower nozzles. I walked up to look more closely and a shower kicked on automatically. Proximity sensors, I suppose. I reached out to test the water and it was ice cold. I stood back to let it warm up for a bit and tested again - ice cold. Suddenly, I understood - I wasn’t getting a hot shower. I got in the icy water and rinsed quickly, then stepped out of the stream to soap up. Got back in and rinsed the soap off quickly again. The water was shockingly cold, and it took my breath away each time I stepped under it. I got the enema nozzle - not that I wanted to wash my ass out, but I figured I’d be punished if I did not - and used a lube dispenser to get it slick, and used it to wash my ass out.

The kid had been kind enough to allow warm water for the enema nozzle. Though I suppose he could change that if he wanted to. I rinsed my ass out, though since the two enemas the night before, I was pretty clean.

When I finished and stepped away, the shower shut off. There were some large, soft looking towels on one side of a shelf nearby, and some small, almost hand towel sized ones that looked cheap and rough on the other. I went to grab a large, soft one and, perhaps predictably, got a mild shock, this time in the wrist of the hand I was reaching out with. Those were not for me, it seemed to say. I took one of the small hand towel ones and dried off. There was a basket to toss it in.

I heard something and noticed that a heater set in the wall and above head height had kicked on. I walked over and stood in front of and underneath them, and warmed back up. The room temperature was relatively comfortable to my nude body before the shower, but after the shower I was definitely cold. The heater surprised me a bit though - it showed a level of concern for my safety and even comfort, to a degree at least. He wanted to control me, abuse me, humiliate me, even make me suffer through cold showers. But he didn’t want my body temperature to drop too much. It at least made me think he wasn’t planning to kill me.

I warmed up and stepped away from the heater, which promptly shut off. I had a few minutes to relax before I heard the next order.

“30 minute hygiene and rest period is complete. Walk down the hall and enter the last room on the right.”

I did as I was told, coming to a room I’d seen the night before out of the corner of my eye. I walked in and found a semi-large size room filled with shoes. The grated door shut and clicked locked behind me.

There were racks around the walls and in the middle of the space with all sorts of shoes. Dress, athletic, casual, even leather boots. Neatly arranged, and all of them were expensive. Some I recognized, some I didn’t. I knew the Salvatore Ferragamos were ridiculously expensive. Not to mention the Gucci, Cole Haan, Jimmy Choo, and others. Some of them actually looked like they were custom made - there was no printing in them with a size or manufacturer. The speakers in the ceiling spoke in the computer voice.

“You are assigned to cleaning and polishing shoes today. Watch the instructional videos, and begin work. Your progress will be monitored, and time wasting will be punished.”

A screen in one of the walls started playing what were basically youtube videos that described shoe care. Some of it was pretty basic, but some of it was rather specialized and specific. There was a shelf with all the necessary brushes, wipes, cleaning supplies, polishes, and so forth. I watched through the videos and told myself that I was not going to give this little shit the satisfaction of making me his shoe bitch, but a few shocks to my balls and I decided I had to comply. The system had no sympathy and would shock them until they fell off if I didn’t obey, I imagined. All I was proving by refusing to do it was that I was an idiot. It would shock me until I gave in, so it only caused me pain. The kid likely didn’t even know I was resisting unless he happened to be watching the video feeds.

Within an hour, I was cleaning and polishing his hundreds - possibly thousands - of pairs of shoes. I wasn’t an expert on shoe prices, but I was a gay man and had at least an inkling of an idea, and guessed there were at least tens of thousands of dollars of shoes - probably over $100K worth. And I was now assigned to keeping them cleaned and polished.

I worked for several hours - mind numbing, boring, and hard work. I had a Master’s degree and was paid a decent salary for white collar work at my job, and here I was doing the work of a domestic servant. And for a 20 something kid, at that! The video continued to play, which was helpful as I came to ones that required some special treatment.

At first, I was slower at it as I learned how to do it, but toward the end I was getting faster. The machine was kind enough to help me learn to be efficient, as if I took too long with a pair I was punished. It took about 5-6 minutes a pair to clean and polish, and I must have done at least 40 pairs that day. Finally, the system announced that work time was over. The door unlocked and it told me to walk into the dungeon.

I walked back into the space where my ass and mouth had been raped only hours before, and was directed to a spanking bench. It kept your forearms and lower legs parallel to the floor, your torso parallel to it on the higher portion, and your ass and mouth rather open and exposed. I was instructed to get on it, and knew what the price would be if I didn’t. I settled onto the device and felt the familiar clicks as my wrists, ankles, balls, and even neck were locked to the device. There was no way off of it now. Without even setting foot in the space, he had me trussed up and my ass ready to be basted like a turkey, if he wished. And there I stayed for a long time. I eventually napped some, but woke when the door open and he strutted in. He had clearly been working out, as he was in gym clothes that were wet with sweat.