Will K 3

Author: plugged
Title: Will K 3
Date: 28 August 2007

Part 3


Cramping, the cold, stench and the feeling as the sludge oozed at my
feet and fingers when I tried moving them kept me miserable and most
uncomfortable. The bag would sway and swing as I moved, my cock would grow
hard, I could feel it trapped at my thighs, when I pissed I relished
the warm feeling that surrounded me, aware eventually that it would soon
be cold. I felt my body jump as I thought I was falling but it was just
those times you experience as you fall asleep. Exhaustion,
hypothermia? I wasn't sure maybe a mixture of both but I did doze off and waken
with a jump a few times. I had no sense of time, the canvas was thick
enough to keep me in the dark even without the tape blindfold and my
cramped position eventually led to me having little feeling left in my body.
My toes were there and my fingers but I had to concentrate hard and
was still unsure if they had actualy moved.

I awoke to my canvas prison being turned, slowly, the distant clank of
chain and I seemed to drop a few feet.
"iiagh!" as I bit down on the ropes. Cold water was poring over me from
the top. The level inside the bag grew and the sludge floated upwards
with the water. At one point it reached as far as my mouth before
someone squeezed on the bag engulfing me totally as the liquid rushed to
spill through the gap at the top. Still the water poured in.

The bag was released and I started spinning, barely stopped the hands
wound me the other way and let go again. I wanted to vomit, I moaned as
loud as I could hoping they'd understand my desperation.

I was lying on the floor, the water still spraying the inside of the
bag. I was heaved and hefted around as I felt the bag being opened, now
it was only the occasional spurts that washed over me. A few buckets of
warmer water were sloshed over me and someone began removing/cutting
the ropes that bound me. My arms fell to the side as my wrists were freed
and a thousand electric shocks ran up and down them... that was enough
for me, I tried to stay still but my arms and legs were stretched as
was my back as I was spread out over the floor. I could feel the
twitching in almost every muscle as I lay there listening to the howling and
moaning of an animal in pain. It was a few minutes before I recognised
that the animal was me, involuntarily vocalising protests about the
electric shocks coursing through me, or rather the 'pins and needles'
created by the removal of my former restrictions.

Minutes passed as the discomfort lessened while my arms and legs were
manipulated back to a living status. Pulled, stretched and rubbed,
flipped over and more stretches and pulls.

Now sitting on the buttlug, my whole body shaking hands took my hands
and closed them round a plastic bottle and lifted it to my mouth. It was
cold and kind of bitter sweet but I drank it greedily. When I paused a
hand patted me on the head. My hand and arm still trembled as I
reached for the hand. Thick rubber glove that travelled a good way up his arm
was what I found. The rubber hands guided mine forward till I could
feel tight rubberised thighs, my hands were pressed hard before one hand
pulled my head forward. I pulled back only for my wrists to be taken
again
and forcefully pulled forward till my face crashed into a crotch. With
no opportunity to resist I grabbed and held the thighs as the crotch
was rubbed against my nose and lips.

"STAY!" was the command as the gloves interceeded between crotch and
face.

"John? Is that you? Please John..." interupted by having my head pulled
forcefully back to the rubber I squeezed my fingers into the hard
thighs.

"MASTER!" was the response as the pressure relaxed.

"I know it's you John. Please tell me what's happening."

"MASTER!" slap! "MASTER!" slap!
Both cheeks and ears warmed and stung.

"JOHN. DON'T. PLEASE HELP ME!"

"MASTER!" the accompaying slap sent me onto the floor.

"On your knees piggy." he commanded as his boot tapped the plug in my
arse a few times.

"Now what do you say?"

I remained silent but got onto my knees as the taps got harder.

He spread my knees apart and pulled down on my nuts and cock.

"Who am I?" he questioned as he tugged and rolled at my balls.

"OK!" was all he said as I remained silent.

I waited expecting him to crush my ballsac but it never happened. Ah
one small victory I thought to myself and actually began to enjoy his
massage of my genitalia. Then he stopped. I think a small sigh of
discontent escaped.

"Move left then straight ahead."

The kick on the buttplug ensured he didn't have to repeat himself. I
moved to the left then pulled a leg forward to stand up. The pain was
deep in my gut and I felt sick. I scooted forward on my knees only for the
pain to return. At his pace we crossed the floor onto some straw, his
laugh accompanying my squawks of pain as he pulled on the rope round my
balls and cock lifting my knees from the floor.

"Breakfast is in front of you finish it in five minutes."

I groped in front of me till I found the dish, only to be pulled back
by the balls. My knees barely touched the floor, I needed my arms to
support me.

"If it's no finished when I get back then I'll give you another ten
minutes.. and so on till you have your bowl licked clean, then I might
give you more of that juice only it'll be fresher and warmer."

I heard him walk away but my nuts were still being pulled up and back.
I reached back searching for the rope. Mistake, BIG mistake as I heard
him coming back. As I listened to him walk away this time I knew I was
stuck, my knees only touched the floor one at a time and he had tied my
wrists together.

"OH and if I were you I'd get that dish emptied before your balls get
ripped off!" he called back over his shoulder.

The smell from the dish told me nothing about the contents, the taste
when I dipped my tongue was similar. I slipped a few times plunging my
face into the dish. It was undercooked porridge! I'd learn later that it
wasn't cooked at all just some milk and oats soaked together till it
was a kind of paste.

I was on my toes and elbows when he came back trying to take my weight
off my balls.

"Finished? Ah well good attempt, you'll do better with practice. Now
I'm only here for the weekend so pay attention.
Beg to be given a drink and cleaned up cleaned up... remember your
manners!"

"Please John can I get a drink and get washed?"

Nothing.

"Please John, can I please get a drink of water please."

"Who am I?" he asked as his boot pulled my bound wrists forward.

"John, my big brother John! Please I don't know what to say... I'm
sorry, I,m SORRY." I hadn't a clue what I was apologizing for but when you
are swing on your cock and nuts I don't suppose that matters. I just
gasped and screamed out anything I thought he wanted to hear.

"Masters don't listen to slaves who are too familiar. The slave begs
Master to allow the slave to drink and for it to be cleaned up."

"Please MASTER I beg you to allow me a drink and to clean myself up."

"Nearly!"

I was sobbing and slobbering by the time I got it right.

"Please MASTER may the slave have a drink and then can it be allowed to
clean up. Please."

I was then allowed to sit back and handed a wet cloth to wipe my face,
he took the cloth back grabbed my hair and twisted my head around and
back then I felt his meat slipping into my mouth.
"Any spillage will be punishable," was the comment as the first spurts
hit the back of my throat.
"OOPS," was the only comments as I felt it trickle out my mouth as I
struggled to swallow the torrent down.

I sat back gasping but he pushed my head down with a one word command.
"LICK!"

I licked his wellie and up to his crotch, urged on by several of the
singular commands. "Lick!"

He didn't allow me to stop till I had tounged every inch of rubber from
his boots to his crotch and butt.

It was only then he informed that the bucket I had been using was the
slaves drinking and washing bucket and that I would now have to wash his
suit properly. So with him using the rope leash to my balls we crossed
to another area where I was handed a sponge and had to sponge his suit
down several times before he was satisfied. I think he only stopped
because the other two guys had arrived.

"SIT!"

I wasn't sure what that meant so I hesitated before sitting on the plug
and crossing my legs in front of me.

"SIT!" was repeated so I scrambled to get on my knees and sink back on
my haunches.

"Hold that for me will you?" My outsretched hands were gripped by
someone else followed by two rapid punches to my ribs.

"Please John tell me what you want, I don't know what you mean please."
I gasped between sobs.

The short exasperated sigh informed me I was still in bother... "Please
master I'm sorry!"

"Ah your tecnique for softening it up seems to be working Johnny boy!"
said one of the others.

"Yeah well give me those and I'll soften it up more!"

"Open up and stick out your slave tongue."

I did as he said and he slid something metallic over it. Pressure!! I
yelped as my tongue was yanked to its limit.

The grips, I later found out, hung from my tongue pulling and
stretching it over my bottom teeth.

"Quiet!"

I heard the bellowed command and struggled to get my frantic yelping
and grunting under control.

"STAND!" and he showed me how to stand.

"Kneel Up!" he guided me to kneel on my knees, back straight.

"Kneel!" he pushed me back till I sat on my heels.

"Up!" and I was pushed and pulled onto all fours.

"Down!" My head was pushed to the floor, as I went down the grips
pulled and twisted my tongue and I grabbed for them. This earned me several
slaps on the arse as someone stood on my outstretched bound hands.

"SIT! STAND! KNEEL!" One after the other the commands were
repeated, when I fucked up I was slapped, punched or kicked.

Finally I was told to stay after the KNEEL UP command and the grips
were lifted up.
The pause between words were filled with tugs and twists on my tongue.
"Now .. you .. will .. remember .. how to .. address .. all .. free ..
men .. and how .. to follow .. a basic .. command."

"Well?" he enquired when he released the grips.

"Yeth mathter." my tongue felt huge, and numb, I wondered if it was
ripped as I swallowed the saliva and tasted what I thought was blood.

I braced myself as someone picked at my head pulling at the tape. My
head was pulled and yanked and I began to dread the last layer, some of
the overlapping stuff had already ripped at my hair. I bit at my lip to
curb my desire to complain as they reached the final layer. 'YEEOWIEE'
I felt as if I was scalped and sank back to my haunches as I rubbed at
my eyes. Bloody tape must have removed my eyelashes never mind the
eyebrows and the back of my head was on fire.

"I don't remember saying you were to kneel."

I was back in position blinking furiously before he finished speaking.

"Uncle ..." I stopped and just stared at my uncle.

"Slaves don't have uncles or anything like that!" he said quietly.

I braced for the slap or punch as John gripped my hair from behind and
I mumbled a "Sorry master."

Click, followed by the unmistakable buzz of the clippers and the master
ran the clippers back and forth till only the strip he gripped
remained. The master Paul then shaved my scalp while master John held me
still, even shaved the remainder of my eyebrows. I fixed my eyes on my
former Uncle Davy sitting on an upturned box. It had been several years
since I last saw him. Thought he was still inside for beating up those two
guys in the betting shop.

He looked much the same as the last time I saw him grimy oil covered
boilersuit (coveralls), unshaved, oily boots well worn and the 'bunnet'
(work cap) in a condition similar to the boilersuit sitting at a jaunty
angle.
He winked at me and clicked the grips in his hand, making a big show of
closing the jaws and tightening the grip, followed by waggling his
tongue at me.

"Go to master Davy then boy." John said.

I looked up at him, he clicked his fingers pointed and nodded in the
direction I was to travel.

Davy still played with the grips as I approached. "Tongue out!" he
said.

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