Shoced in Captivity

It was dark, the pitch black of a coal mine three miles down and my head hurt. Instinctively, I tried to touch the pain, my hands hardly moved, the effort caused pressure on my ankles, I was lying on a cold floor and bound with what felt like rope. I panicked, chest heaving, breath louder than usual, there seemed to be a thick hood over my head. I tried to move, rope was around my arms, waist and thighs where it held my ankles which were bent back painfully, lashed to both wrists. The effort of trying to move caused the hood around my neck to tighten, restricting my airway, there must be a noose tied to a fixed point. I cautiously eased my head back to where it was, the pressure reduced and I could breathe more easily, where was I? How did I get into this situation?

I thought back to earlier this evening, my friends were celebrating Don's birthday, he was the last to reach eighteen, we had all started senior school together and usually hung out, tonight we were drinking beer. All six of us had gone to a burger bar but only the two most sober had ordered for the rest, I had to use the john. Having downed too many beers, I had wedged myself between the wall and a urinal, fumbling to undo buttons on both jeans and underpants, giving up, I pushed the waist bands down, desperate to take a piss and of course they slithered down my legs. Bending to retrieve them, my legs gave way and . . . the memory stopped right there, now here I am - wherever that is.

The guys wouldn't do this, we lark about but this is serious stuff, I listened, straining to hear any clue as to my whereabouts. Nothing, I was cold but it didn't seem like I was outdoors, no traffic sounds or wind, thinking of wind reminded me that my belly was rumbling and the need to piss was as strong as ever. I needed more than ever to go, I shouted that I needed a piss but it sounded muffled even to my ears. By now I was squeezing my legs together and jiggling around on the floor, bursting to go, then suddenly, need overcame control and I wet myself.

It warmed me at first, I could feel the clothes over my lower body were soaked, before long even my back was wet, I lay in piss, it soon cooled. I must be on concrete, the cold soon had me shivering, a dangerous thing when my neck was in a noose, I made a tentative move in the direction I thought my tether was fixed but I couldn't ease the tight noose. Who would tie me up? I didn't know anybody with a lot of money, it couldn't be for ransom.

A noise, soft but in my near vicinity, a door? Footsteps, rubber soled shoes but placed heavily, a man. A diffuse light, so I had been in the dark with a hood on. The noose was loosened and the hood removed, I closed my eyes, the light was so bright.

"You've wet yourself," a surprisingly gentle voice, "Let's get you out of those wet things."

He was a good looking guy, mid twenties I'd say, fair hair like mine, cut shorter and he wore glasses. The blue jeans and green logo on a white T shirt he wore had been washed many times, faded into obscurity. He deftly undid the ropes but kept the noose on, it was taut but thankfully not restricting my breathing. Now secured only by neck and ankles, I wondered if I should fight him, a pull on my ankle bonds soon banished that thought, as my breath was partially cut off.

"We should establish one rule," he said, "You do everything I say and maybe I don't hurt you."

What could I do? He took off the noose and put a heavy studded leather collar around my neck, adjusting it so it was a fairly tight fit, I could feel each metal stud on my skin. He warily removed the ropes from my ankles, I leapt to my feet prepared to fight but he touched a button on the box on his belt, I felt a violent electrical jolt to the neck.

"That's just a small taste of what could be a paralysing shock," he explained, "Take off your clothes."

I've seen anti bark collars on dogs and know they will subdue a large vicious animal but decided to test his statement of just how disabling it can be. I started to strip off and although he relaxed a little, he kept one hand on the box, now down to my boxers, he turned to open a valve on the wall which operated a shower head in one corner of the room. This was my chance, I leapt forward and kicked out at him but he was quick, dodging my leg and touching the button at his belt. A sudden spike of electricity grabbed my neck, throttling me, I sank to the floor fighting for breath, pulling futilely at the collar as he continued to press the button. All I could think of was the pain, my throat was closing up as my chest laboured, my sight was reducing around the periphery, very soon I would black out.

"That's half power," he said, "Do you want to try for more?"

I shook my head, no, stood and removed my boxers, he smiled in triumph, pointing to the shower.

The water was freezing, I washed quickly, rapid hands both washing and massaging some heat into my skin. Taking a quick look in his direction, he was gathering up my clothes and putting them in a bag, gone before I left the shower. I walked from the shower still massaging my skin, there wasn't a towel or any scrap of paper or cloth I could use to dry myself, so I jogged around to warm up. There were no windows and just the one door, it had a small hatch but even my knee wouldn't fit through it, I looked for anomalies at the bottom of the walls where perhaps a door might be covered over, or air vents that had been plastered to match the walls - nothing.

Tired and naked I could do nothing but try to sleep, using a plank bed, secured by one side to the wall and held up by chains from higher up the wall. It was dark when I awoke, no sounds were apparent and I don't think I had slept for long, regardless of wetting myself I needed to piss again and tried to remember if there was a toilet. As I stood, so the light came on, that made it easier to see the toilet, a bare porcelain fixture bolted to the floor in the opposite corner.

Some time later, a noise at the door and he was there, two chains dangling in his hand, an underhand throw and they sailed through the air toward me, falling at my feet.

"Put those on your wrists and hook yourself to the ceiling, here."

He placed a small wooden box on the floor indicated the position of the hooks above, I donned the leather cuffs at one end of the chains, stood on the box and clipped the other ends to sturdy hooks in a concrete ceiling. Still there was no reason for why I was here, or indeed, why me? I was trembling with the cold as he pushed the box from under me, my feet dropped to the floor, I was standing with my heels raised about three inches or so, the strain of standing accentuating my trembling to a body shaking tremor.

He smiled at me, sliding his hands over my ass and down my legs, lifting my thighs, causing me to stand on tip toe, my calf muscles pulling, hurting. He grinned at that and placed his hands on my chest, hairless and puny under his hard palms, sliding them down to my stomach which was flat and empty, my stretched out position making it rumble faintly.

"You'll get three meals a day as long as you co-operate, Or," he tapped the plastic box on his belt.

I nodded, escape was not possible as yet, I must bide my time, my disappearance would have been noted by now. His hands moved to my face, a few light hairs above my lip were all I had, they just managed to make it look like I had wiped my nose with a dirty finger. The inevitable happened, his gaze moved to my groin, I looked down, not much to boast about there I'm afraid, my balls had not grown since I was much younger and, with the cold, both they and my dick were trying to climb into my hairless body. His inspection continued and he paused over some small fatty lumps under my skin on my shoulders, they had gradually appeared over the years. I couldn't see what was happening but it felt like he was cutting them, there was some pain at the skin at those areas.

"I've put some clothes for you to wear on the bed, only then can you eat"

He pushed the box back under me and I freed myself from the cuffs, then stood weakly, both feet planted firmly on the floor. As he left, I approached the bed, the scanty clothes were not designed to keep out the cold, they were lingerie. Black high heeled shoes, black stockings, a garter belt and a tiny G string, just what kind of sexual deviance have I been press ganged into? And where's my breakfast?

The realisation didn't take long to sink in, don't wear the clothes, don't eat. I sat and rolled up the stockings as I had seen women do in films, they stretched quite tightly up my legs, I pulled them higher because already they felt warm. They ended half way up my thighs, the reinforced tops were quite some way from my waist, I wondered if the garter belt would reach them. The satin and lacy garment looked too flimsy to stretch from waist to mid thigh, so I adjusted it to sit on my hips, the clasps barely reached the stocking tops, which I had to smooth tightly from ankle to thigh for the two to meet. The G string was tiny but covered my small dick, it dug in uncomfortably though, more stretchy elastic would help.

I stood and walked very carefully from the bed, my ankles gave way easily, I had to concentrate to balance on them. A noise at the door, the small hatch had been raised and my breakfast was in a box like structure built into it. It took me quite a while to hobble awkwardly to the hatch, a soft plastic bowl with cereal, a soft plastic plate with bacon and scrambled egg and a styrene cup of orange juice. A toddlers, thick plastic fork and spoon were resting on the food, even if ground down to a point, they were incapable of hurting anyone. I realised the hatch had raised just after I had dressed, was that co-incidence or was there a camera watching me, I had seen no sign of it. I casually looked at the central light fitting on the ceiling, there were cobwebs around it, closing my eyes I held a picture in my mind, walking in another direction and glancing again, yes, they had moved.

I was finding it easier to walk in the heels but for a very limited time, I must admit the stockings were warm and smooth and I was beginning to like the pull of the garter belt as I walked, the sensuous feel of air moving over stockinged legs. I was angry with myself, in just a short time I had succumbed to the fantasy world he had forced me into, perhaps because boys just rejected girly things and my body was seduced by the warmth of them. There was no mirror, how did I look in lingerie? I slapped down the thought, like a man in drag of course. I began to question my previous life, I had always been proud of my wavy hair and wore it long, it suited my face, did other guys wonder if their hair suited them?

Days had passed, meals appearing at the door were my only clock, I found that attempting to walk without wearing high heels brought a painful shock. Deep in thought, I heard footsteps, he was approaching, or were there others involved in my kidnapping? The door opened and he was there, I noticed the same blue jeans and green logo T shirt he had worn days earlier, he looked at my body clad in the underwear.

"Stand on the box and cuff your wrists."

I did as I was told, there's not much use fighting when he had the only weapon. He slid his hands over me once more, concentrating on my chest, kneading and squeezing the muscles and pulling my nipples. Unwrapping a large dish, he produced several syringes, my eyes must have been like saucers as he carefully pushed the tip of one into my flesh near my left nipple. The large bore needle was more painful than any previous injections but at that point I didn't realise how many times he would inject me, all around each nipple then gradually further out in concentric circles. He used a lot of the pinky white substance, on each breast.

"This is the fatty cells from your back, cloned and replicated, your body won't reject it, it's amazing what you can do with the stem cells from an umbilical cord."

I looked down at the lumps covering my chest, it looked like I had been stung a hundred times. This lumpy patchwork didn't look like any breasts I'd ever seen and I've seen pictures of a few. He stroked and squeezed each nipple in turn, they and the aureoles were fat and risen like miniature breasts themselves. He then concentrated on the huge amount of tissue he had injected into each breast, yes I had breasts, firm, heavy lumps protruding conically like some teenage girl. My tendons and muscles of course had only just acquired these weights and like any young girl it would take time for them to stretch and for the breasts to look natural.

Hang on, I'm already accepting my my new body shape and wondering just how nature would adjust my figure in future. His hard fondling continued to shape the soft pliant mounds into the effect he wanted, I must admit he had a sculptors touch, one part of me could only admire his handiwork and anyway I was powerless to stop it. My mind was whirling, I was loving the feel of lingerie and now I could admire the breasts he has forced upon me, just what was I thinking? Come to that what was he thinking? I'm not a girl, I've never wanted to be a girl. He wasn't finished, the needle appeared once more, what now, both breasts were looking the same. Where would he inject next?

His hands went lower, tugging down the G string and removing it, the injections started to one side of my dick, a vertical line raised the skin into a fold. He did the same to the other side, my dick was bounded on both sides by a fold of skin. My balls were never large and they all but disappeared in the lower folds, his skilful hands shaped the pliant injected skin into the semblance of a vagina, my small dick peeping like a clitoris from it's centre. He left me hanging there as he gathered the equipment and left the room, the pain in my body caused me to sob, agony seemed to increase as the day wore on. How long I hung there, I don't know, the throbbing pain gradually subsided and eventually, I slept. I awoke to the sound of the door opening, he looked me over with a critical eye but said nothing as he spoon fed me some vegetable soup, I had plenty of questions but eating took precedence.

He helped me down to sit on the toilet, then cuffed my wrists to the ceiling hook once more and left without a word, I tried to ask my questions but after the sexual changes, it all seems pretty obvious. My feet were killing me in the spike heeled shoes and I kicked them off, dreading the reprisal but no shock came. I hung there for what must have been days, broken only by food and the toilet. Several meal times he had spoon fed me but now, for the first time, he fondled my new breasts. He seemed satisfied with their shape and size, squatting then to peer closely at my altered sex. I could feel his breath on my pussy, please don't let me respond to the gentle breeze he was causing but I never felt a twinge. I was released and allowed to go to my bed, where a meal was waiting, creamed potatoes were the standard fare with a variety of meat, that allowed for change. Funny that, I would have thought that warmed over ready meals would be the easiest option for my captor but I suppose he also cooked for himself.

I had noticed my body growing softer, my breasts for example had a little more fat around them, blending the otherwise conical mounds more naturally into my chest wall, they also seemed larger and dare I say it, more sensitive. My newly sculpted vagina was the least of my pain, there was no real sensation there at all. Because of the partially recessed nature of my dick, I continued to sit for the toilet, quite practical in fact, it removed the chance of dripping pee on my stockings which I had washed through quite enough as it was. I was asked if I needed a change of clothes and demanded longer stockings, a broader garter belt and more elastic in the G string and really, was a bra out of the question?

My words horrified me, I had succumbed to his vision of me, in fact I even welcomed it, what's wrong with me? Later he dumped the clothes on the bed and fixed a mirror on the wall. It was a large frame, dotted with black, red and white shiny lumps but the mirror was a fairly small round disc in the centre, a few low voltage lights were arranged randomly among the shiny lumps. I caught sight of myself.

God I was beautiful, I stood amazed, angling the mirror, running my hands down my body, then angled up again to see and fondle my breasts. The vision in the mirror caused my hand to drop to my genitals, endeavoring to awaken sexual feelings, a vicious jolt hit my neck, I fell choking and clawing at the studded collar. He appeared in the doorway,

"No touching your clitty," he shouted.

I promised I wouldn't, why would I, if pain was the result. As a guy I was never comfortable with my small dick but now as a clitoris it looked to be about the right size, over the last few days I realised that I had accepted that my vagina should have always been there.

It's true to say that your sex is determined between your ears, not between your legs. I stripped off and dressed in the new clothes, marvelling at the feel of sheer stockings, reaching high up my thighs, donning the garter belt and snapping the suspenders into place felt so natural. The G string was slightly pouched and held by wide elastic thongs, so comfortable and dare I say it, looking sexy on me. I studied the transformation in the mirror I looked hot, the bra was a half cup affair making the most of my firm breasts, dividing curvaceous flesh into a deep cleavage I was proud of. How weird I would feel that way after just a couple of weeks, I had never felt my body was anything other than inadequate but now it was absolutely gorgeous.

The new high heels were thin straps criss crossing my feet, culminating in a buckled ankle strap, a wide back strap giving more support, the toe section conforming better to the shape of my feet. By now I could wear them a lot of the day, I posed in front of the mirror, my calves looked terrific in them, they added inches to my height and gave wonderful shape to my thighs. My ass was a pert bubble butt when I wore heels, the elasticated G string sat snugly across smooth, pert, globes and held my clitty comfortably. I posed in front of the mirror, I was smoking hot but the usual stiffening of my dick was absent, somehow I was glad, it would have spoilt the illusion. Just then dinner arrived, more creamed potato, this time with spicy chicken and a mix of vegetables. I think the creamed potatoes were going straight to my hips, which were filling out and softening, the same thing was happening to my breasts, even my shoulders were softer.

After I had eaten he came in, dragging a running machine, the roller mat looked different, there were dainty footprints on it. Setting it down under the ceiling hook he beckoned me over, I walked better in my high heels but with all the grace of a construction worker. He fixed a hoist motor up to the ceiling fitment, a thick chrome hook dangled from the braided wire end. I stood on the treadmill fearing the worst, the chrome hook was roughly shoved into my ass, I yelped and stepped forward, the hook prevented any further movement and I stood with tears in my eyes, as he looped a ring tightly around my collar enclosing the wire holding the hook in my ass. I heard the whirr of the hoist and I stood straight as the cable pulled first my neck back, then my ass upwards, I could feel the hook lodging higher in me.

"You'll step exactly where the painted footprints are," he said.

The machine started, quite slowly at first, which was just as well, I had to concentrate. My feet had to land on each painted footprint but they were in a straight line, my legs had to cross an invisible centre line to land even closely to the painted outline. Another difficulty was that they were so close together, I had been walking at close to my usual stride and adjusting to this shorter step was really difficult. I didn't have long to get accustomed to this way of walking before he hit the button on his belt, the pain surged through me, each time I missed a step, so my collar received a signal to shock me. The pain made me stagger, pulling the hook cruelly, dancing like a puppet as the weight of my body was held up by my ass-hole. Gradually the pace increased, probably to around three miles an hour, which doesn't seem much until you have to place your feet so very carefully.