This will be a series of One-Shots about various people escaping problematic and downright illegal relationships. These stories rely heavily on bad BDSM practices. This in no way means that I as the author think BDSM is bad. BDSM practices are perfectly fine and healthy in any relationship so long as it's done in a safe and consensual environment. Any tips or advice that you don't hesitate to comment. Tags will differ on story to story/chapter by chapter basis. Tags will be posted in notes of each story. Stories will have a HEA ending guaranteed.
Seth
It all happened rather simply and suddenly, I had just gone upstairs to fetch Mistress her phone she left charging by the bed when on my way back I slipped. Then again it was only a matter of time I would slip and fall when forced into wearing black high heel shoes. She liked to dress me up, she did it because she knew I hated it like I hated most of everything that I now did. When I came to Mistress last year I was looking to dip my toes in the lifestyle, I had seen stuff online, researched a little...but then I met her and got dragged out into the waters everyone warned me not to go.
Now here I was, a year later laying at the bottom of her stairs, pain throbbing in every inch of me as new spikes of pain began to bolt up from my left leg. I had broken my ankle once, playing High School Hockey. I knew the sound and feel of bone snapping within your flesh, it's insane how...easy it sounds, like a twig or the pop of a balloon. When she rounded the corner coming out of the living room and saw me I think that was the first time I saw genuine worry and fear on her face. For a second I thought, 'Oh, maybe she does care about me?' but that thought was carried away I saw the worry get replaced by anger.
She was seething over the fact she knew she had to take me to the hospital, to take me outside of her domain. But she wasn't completely insane, she knew she couldn't provide me with the medical care for a broken leg. Not wanting her precious leggings or shoes to be taken or cut off by hospital staff she kindly removed them roughly from my frame. The pain made me shout and nearly blackout, but if I was being honest...it wasn't the worst she had given me.
She forced me to tug on a simple white T-shirt and a pair of boxers, refusing even now to undo the cage around my cock. She smirked cruelly at me when I mentioned it.
"I told you, that only comes off for cleaning! If I could cage that ugly thing for the rest of your days I would!" She spat with a venomous mockery as her rather contrasting soft blue eyes pinned me where I was. Grimacing against the stairs, trying to hold my leg as straight as I could as throbbing near blinding pain surged through me. It didn't hurt too bad when I wasn't breathing, perhaps if I held my breath long enough...all the pain would go away, and I would be free of her and this place.
She regretfully assisted me into the garage and all but shoved me in the back seat, which had to be difficult for a woman who was only 5' 1" and hauling around someone who was 6' 2". I clattered into the backseat shouting in agony. She threw me a glare and slammed the door before stalking to the driver's side. The garage door opened, her vehicle--a Chevy Equinox-- backed out, she hit the button for the garage, and just like that. He was out of the house, the first time in months.
It was so surreal to see other vehicles and people, even though he was in immense pain at the moment. He managed to push through it, his mind almost getting high from all the new visual stimulation. Since he joined Mistress he stayed inside, cleaning her house, taking care of her car, taking care of her. All the while he was teased, tormented, used, and abused for her entertainment and pleasure. Which, some of the stuff would have been fine if he got to have a say in it, or got something out of it. But instead, it was all focused on her while he got nothing, just some pity slaps to his balls and thrown into an oversized dog kennel to sleep in at night.
"Slave" she growled, her knuckles tightly gripping the wheel as she stared icily in front of her, attentive to the road.
"Yes,...Mistress?" he managed to slur, blinking and trying to concentrate on her, colorful dots danced in his eyes as he glanced down to his leg. The bone hadn't punctured through the skin, but he could see the indent of it, he knew he most likely had internal bleeding but all and all it wasn't horrible. A cast, some crutches, a few weeks on bed rest, and some physical therapy...along with a lot of pain meds.
"You will let me do all the talking, you will not say a word to anyone do you understand?" She commanded strictly her eyes catching his in the reflection of the rearview mirror. He nodded, his tongue feeling thick in his dry mouth. He was going to pass out soon, wasn't he?
"SLAVE!" she shouted risking a second to snap her head around to look at him.
"Y-yes Mistress!" he cooed back, at this point he would say anything to not have her yell, to not have her punish him. He was so tired and exhausted of it all, he felt almost hopeless.
The remainder of the ride was a blur to him, a blur of colors and faces of passerby people on the street, the clouds and sky, even Mistress's voice and instructions were all a dull noise to him. She didn't yell at him again, he didn't know if she was talking to herself or him. He didn't care, instead, he lay there studying her raven black hair (that she totally dyed and pretended it was natural) and her face. Her far too sweet angelic-looking face had lured him in, and like a fish taking the bait, she snapped him up and whisked him away.
He stared at her and wondered how he had been so stupid. Thinking back to when he took that train to meet her, an online friend and guide who turned out to be a complete stranger. Gone was the welcoming kindness, the patient, and experienced dominatrix willing to guide him through this interest in life. Instead, he lost his life to her lost his friends and family, his wallet, credit cards, social security...everything about him was now gone. All of it now locked away just like he was, in more ways than one. She was planning on keeping him for several years, and to not draw too much suspicion he got a closely monitored phone call to his parents near the holidays where he assured them he was doing fine, just living the grind.
Someday Mistress assures him, once he was 'good and trained' they would go out to meet them. Pretend Mistress was his girlfriend or Fiance, just to keep appearances. As fucked up Mistress was, she was all about appearances. It's why she spent so much on clothes and make-up, made sure her house was neat and tidy. On the outside she was the picture-perfect friendly real estate agent, "Helping you find your future!" on the inside she was a twisted demon of a person if you could even call her a person.
There was a sudden bump waking him from his thoughts and he glanced out to see they were at the ER entrance to the hospital. The hospital looked like any other, a large tan-colored building, lots of windows with shrubbery planted out front, benches nearby to sit on, a man and woman walked by, the man holding up a bleeding hand wrapped in a towel. A nurse, at least who he thought was a nurse rushed out and helped usher the man and wife inside. Another man in scrubs walked out, his head cocked as he half jogged up to the car.
Mistress rolled down her passenger side window, her vehicle still idling.
"My boyfriend!" She exclaimed motioning towards where he was in the backseat. "He fell down the stairs! I think his leg is broken!?" she shouted, he had to admit when she needed to play an act. Mistress could fucking act.
The nurse? Turned his head towards him and immediately rushed to open the back door. Mistress gave him one last warning look before she put the car in park and turned off the engine.
"Miss! What are you doing! You can't park here! I'll help your boyfriend out then you need to go park!" He stated firmly pointing towards the parking lot that had 'guest parking' sign next to it. Seth almost laughed when he saw the look Mistress made being told what to do. Suddenly there was a second nurse, a woman with a gurney. Under their instruction, they carefully helped him slide out of the vehicle and onto the gurney.
At this point, his heart was racing, it was all happening so fast! Other people, normal people that weren't Mistress's friends. Once he was slid into the gurney the male nurse, a man several years older than him with dirty blonde hair cut short began to lightly adjust his leg and look over it.
"Hey there! I'm Amanda and this is Rick, can you tell me what happened...?" Amanda asked cheerfully as she started strapping him into the gurney to begin transport. They had made it so the gurney sat up more like a chair so that he was in a sitting position and could see both of them clearly. He opened his mouth, but he then immediately closed it, Mistress said not to talk. But Mistress had immediately raced off the moment he had left the vehicle. He could see her SUV circling the lot frantically looking for a spot to park.
His heart leapt into his throat, now was his chance! He couldn't fucking blow it! Speak Seth! Speak!
"Let's start with a name, are you able to tell me that Sir?" She asked beginning to shine a light into his eye. He blinked rapidly when she took the light off.
"S...Seth" he whispered, the name feeling weird on his tongue, he always had to refer to himself as Slave with Mistress.
"Okay Seth, now just a few more questions," Amanda asked motioning to Rick and the two of them began to wheel him towards the hospital doors. She asked what day it was, a Monday, which of course she joked 'isn't this just a Monday thing to happen?' she teased both she and Rick smiled and spoke to him calmly, assuring him he was in good hands and that they would get this all taken care of.
This was all so daunting to Seth, to have people be kind and genuine, to treat him like a person...it just...it made him wonder if this was all some cruel prank or dream. Then again, why would Mistress set it up for him to break a leg? Seemed more trouble than it was worth.
"Want us to take your phone, Seth?" Rick asked motioning to the phone still in his hands. He glanced down, holy shit! He still had Mistress's phone! Somehow he had kept clinging to it this entire time. Mouth dry at this point he just nodded and Rick swiped it up and tossed it towards one of the nurses sitting behind the main ER desk. Seth blinked, they were already in the building! He must have been so distracted by Amanda and Rick's casual kindness he forgot to pay attention.
"Personal belonging for patient Seth, an early twenties caucasian male closed fracture Fibula on the left leg, possible fractured Tibia will need an MRI to confirm" Rick droned out easily and just as calmly as Amanda and he pushed him into one of the empty bed bays in the ER floor. There were light blue curtains that separated him from other patients in the ER. The air smelled stale and fresh at the same time and he was suddenly being attached to several machines that Amanda assured him were just to check his vitals and weren't too invasive.
"Got a last name, Seth?" she asked sweetly attaching some strange clamp to his finger. He glanced up at her, still so confused to be hearing his name again.
"Johnson! He's a mute!" Mistress's voice barked in as she rushed into the space next to him. Immediatly he put his head down, his chance was gone. Mistress took ahold of his hand, and with her other, she began to smooth back his hair in a nurturing manner. Smiling softly as she glanced towards a confused Nurse Amanda.
