Coal Mine Slave
Please check out all of my stories at www.assdisc.com.
Synopsis: I am a coal mine slave. Codes = M/m, F/m, torture, non-consensual.
Copyright © Ted Underfoot
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.5/ or send a letter to:
171 Second Street, Suite 300
San Francisco, California 94105
As I look back on my previous life, it probably seems unbelievable that someone is a slave in a coal mine in this day and age. I am not ready to journal how I became a slave, kidnapped while taking a hike in the woods, kept sedated until within my nightmare world. I am also not ready to detail my “slave training” in which … well, I just can’t bear to think about it.
The past is gone. It does me no good to remember all of the good times or my road to this place.
The sun is gone. I will never see it again. I will never see my family again, never see a female again, never … I need to stop with the memories, they do me no good.
My life consists of very hard labor in a coal mine with other slaves under the direction of demanding Masters. We are given rest breaks, sufficient water and food, and even minor health care when needed but 80 hour work weeks take their toll. We are each graded for the week based upon our work ethic as judged by our Masters and on Saturday night each of us is whipped on our bare backs a number of times related to our grades. No-one is ever spared at least a few lashes of the bullwhip.
We are given Sunday off from work. When not working we are each in our own individual 6 foot by 12 foot cells with barely room for a mattress, a small wash basin, and a toilet. There is literally nothing to do as our Masters do not allow us to talk to the other slaves in nearby cells. We are not allowed to talk at all except during our weekly individual interrogations Saturday night before whipping time. During our interrogations we are asked by our Masters for our state of mind and any special needs we may have. It is the only time I feel even remotely human as I am allowed to tell a Master how I feel and what food I like or don’t like for the following week. We are lucky that our Masters are not cruel, they simply have a job to do and hopefully get paid well as it is a difficult job.
Every night when our shift ends we are required to shower before taking our dinner back to our cells. During the week the shower is the only time I feel anything other than misery.
My body aches almost all of the time but in the months that I have been here I have become used to the pain. All of us slaves are allowed one aspirin a day which helps.
I will never get used to the pain from the whip, though. That pain does not usually last past Sunday but when receiving the whipping I always feel as though I cannot take any more, even if I only get a few lashes. My first week as a slave I was of course not a good worker but the Masters are lenient with new slaves. I was slow to learn, though. It took me weeks to get used to the pain in my lower back and legs from the toil of labor and after the third week of work due to my being slow on the job I was whipped until I passed out from the screaming and the agony. The following week I was even worse of a slave due to the whipping pain but the Masters were lenient with me and ever since that time several months ago I have been a good slave.
The boredom is sometimes even worse than the toil. When off duty, slaves are allowed to read or write and that is about it. I grew tired of reading the magazines about the outside world and started writing. I have written several short stories of kingdoms far and wide and one newer Master who likes my stories gives me more paper and pens to use. For most of my time, though, I spend it just lying in my bed, trying to ease my muscles and mind from the hard day of work or catching up on sleep.
There is no opportunity to kill ourselves. The Masters are careful to watch for anything which could be used for that and maybe that is why we are not allowed to talk with other slaves, to disallow us from discussing suicide or an escape plan of any type.
And then there was a loud noise as our rescue was finally at hand.
I need to stop thinking like that, it only tortures me to think of any other potential life than being a slave.
However, the fact that you are reading this means that there is more to this story than endless toil. There was, unfortunately, no rescue and no escape from slavery. But there was finally a change.
On a Saturday night during interrogation, the Master who likes my stories told me that he had a proposition for me. To me this was like a bolt of lightning from a far off land, what on earth position am I in that I had any choice of yes or no for a proposition? I told him yes before he even told me what he had on his mind and I explained to him that anything is better than this.
He told me that he figured I would feel that way and explained that Masters in this coal mine are allowed to buy slaves from the Corporation which runs the place. He told me that the reason he became a Master here was to find a slave to purchase.
It doesn’t seem plausible to someone on the outside but this felt like one of the happiest moments of my life. I told him that I would be absolutely ecstatic to be his slave and with enthusiasm I would do anything he wanted.
He liked my response and told me that it was why he chose this place to find his slave. He told me that it was important for me to understand what my life would be like as his slave because if I did not perform adequately my life would be absolute hell. I felt as though my life already was absolute hell but I agreed with him that there could be worse.
He told me that he liked me a whole lot and I would be his personal sex slave. I was not bothered by this at all because it had to be far preferable than my current slavery. He then explained that I would be lightly tortured and humiliated every day and I would need to bear it with enthusiasm. I would need to think of my new Master’s happiness at all times.
I focused on the word “lightly” as it was my one hope for improving my current situation. I didn’t believe that I would have trouble thinking of my new Master’s happiness as that was at the front of my thoughts already since I wanted out of my current slavery, and I would be always grateful to my new Master for taking me away from here. But a life of being tortured every day seems even worse than a life of toil.
I asked how light the torture would be.
It was strange to actually seem like bargaining with a Master but I was not really bargaining at all and we both knew it. He told me that I would need to be able to have enthusiasm for my new role and we wanted to make sure that could be the case if he took me away from here.
He explained that the pain would be much less than from the weekly bullwhip sessions here. I would be groaning and probably once a day crying in pain but probably not screaming or thrashing around in the shackles as I do here from the bullwhip. I would have plenty of downtime to be able to write more stories and I would even be allowed to watch television as long as I was a good slave.
I felt as though he was describing heaven. I would willingly suffer a lot to be able to watch TV and not have to toil all week.
The Master saw the look on my face and we agreed that I would be a good sex slave.
That evening I was spared the bullwhip session and the next day I was hogtied, blindfolded, and gagged and taken up an elevator and then away in ground transportation to my new home.
After a couple of hours of being transported, my blindfold and gag were removed and I could see that I was on a bed in an underground room. I had hoped to see the sun again but even without that I was glad to be able to breathe clean air again and not feel the weight of the earth above me.
Once my eyes adjusted to the light I could see that my new home was clearly a torture playroom. There were shackles suspended from the ceiling and attached to the floor as well as different types of whips and crops on shelves and hanging from the walls. There were other instruments of torture but at this moment my Master had begun to talk to me.
Master: How do you feel?
Slave: I feel good, Master, thank you!
Master: Good. I am going to shackle your wrists in front of you and shackle your ankles together to allow you to use the bathroom and eat. Are you going to be a good boy and be calm?
Slave: Yes, Master! I swear to you that I will not try to escape.
Master: Good. I guarantee you that there is no escape and I don’t want you to be injured in an attempt.
I did not think that there was any chance of escape because I was sure that my Master had already planned for my captivity. I was certain that he had contingencies for if I tried to attack him, even if I was able to pummel him with my hands. I never attempted any sort of escape.
Later, after my Master and I ate a meal together, he wanted to just talk. I was in the heaven that I had hoped I would be, after several months of hell in the coal mine. I was very grateful to my Master and wanted to be the best slave I could be. I didn’t think he would return me to the coal mine because I figured he would not get his money back on his purchase of me but he could torture me in horrible ways if I was not up to his expectations and that gave me a second reason to be enthusiastic about pleasing him, in addition to my immense gratitude.
Master: Have you ever been with a man before?
Slave: No, Master.
Master: Have you ever thought about what it would be like?
Slave: Yes, Master. I have been curious before but I would never act on anything.
Master: Tell me what you were curious about.
Slave: Master, I wondered what it would be like for a man to touch me since he would probably know what I would enjoy.
Master: Have you ever been curious about touching another man?
Slave: No, Master.
Master: What do you think it would be like? Be honest.
Slave: Master, I think I would be very squeamish but I’ll be good with you.
Master: Why do you think you will be good with me?
Slave: Master, because above everything else in the world I want to please you.
Master: It makes me happy to hear you say those sorts of things.
Slave: Master, I want to make you very happy.
Slave: Master, because you are my entire life, my life is in your hands.
Master: Let’s see how good you are.
My Master removed his shoes and socks, pulled his pants and underwear down and sat on the bed, and had me kneel in front of him while my wrists were shackled in front and my ankles were shackled together. I tried to stay resolved to think of this as okay but I was starting to get sick to my stomach. Fortunately, my Master eased me into the situation by having me caress his bare legs first. I didn’t mind that at all and I think I did a good job because my Master complimented me. He held his hands out and had me massage them, I lovingly caressed and massaged each finger and he even moaned in pleasure at that. I could also see that what I was sure would be the ultimate target of my attention was getting ready for that time, it was difficult to look away from his penis since it was so big and right in front of me.
My Master then said “I want you to suck …” and he lingered on that word. I did my best not to make a face, but then he finished the sentence with “… my toes” and I was relieved, or sort of. I hadn’t anticipated that but as he crossed his right foot over his left knee I began to feel disgusted. I just couldn’t suck his toes but I had to and I had to be enthusiastic about it or at least not act disgusted. Opening my mouth and moving forward to encompass his big toe with my mouth felt like the most difficult thing I had ever done, even after all I had been through in the coal mine.
When my mouth and tongue met his big toe, I felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation as if what I was doing was completely beneath what any human should go through. I almost fainted but I held firm and sucked his toe like a good boy.
After a few seconds the pain in my head receded and I felt that I was over the worst. It wasn’t so bad. My Master’s dick was still large and right in front of me and I knew that sucking his toe was just a warm-up so I tried to think of this as practice and when he moved his foot from side to side I sucked each toe and licked in between each toe. From my Master’s standpoint, I was enthusiastic. I even stared at his penis and pretended I was sucking it to try to lessen the horror when I got to that point.
I realized that while my Master had been hard for the past few minutes, he hadn’t once touched himself.
My Master told me to keep sucking his toes and to masturbate him so I did that. I had to concentrate on doing both things and I didn’t even feel strange about touching him there, sucking his toes was the greater of the two evils. His dick was very sensitive due to being aroused without being touched and my Master was every now and then moaning in pleasure. This made me happy because a happy Master means a not-in-agony slave.
My Master then commanded me “Suck my dick, bitch!” so I did. It seemed as though my whole life built up to this horrible moment of putting my mouth around his throbbing member which was soon going to explode. I wondered if my head would literally explode from the horror of what I was doing.
But it wasn’t so bad. I concentrated on giving my Master pleasure and maybe partly because of that it wasn’t so bad. Also, my Master pulled out at the last moment and let my fingers finish him off so that he did not explode in my mouth.
Several seconds later, my Master tousled my head, laughed, and said “You’re crying.”
I hadn’t realized it but I was crying. It was because I was so glad that I survived my first experience of this and made my Master happy. Or maybe I was crying in deep shame and humiliation, I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn’t tell. I told him that I was crying because I was happy to give him pleasure.
My Master then attached my shackles to the wall next to the bed and allowed me to sleep. It was only slightly uncomfortable due to the shackles as the bondage didn’t stretch me out at all, and it was luxurious compared to my cell in the mines.
I have only vague memories of the next several weeks. The next day, or I figured it was the next day as there was no outside light in the room, I was “lightly” tortured. I guess compared to how bad it could be it was light but it was excruciating to me. Everything he did caused me to scream in pain. My Master seemed very disappointed that I could not take more pain but that didn’t stop him from doing what he planned on doing. I remember being in a fog of agony for hours.
Every day for the next several weeks I was tortured and I just could not get used to it. I think my Master expected me to be able to withstand a bit more each day but that never happened, it always felt like the worst possible pain in the world even though it was only light compared to what he could have done.
On top of the agony, the perverted sexual things he had me do were not bad individually but on the whole I felt completely disgusted with myself and the entire situation. I had no choice in the matter but just after several days I realized that I would much rather be toiling in the mines than being tortured and thoroughly violated every day.
My Master was unhappy with me right from that first day of pain. He told me that he regretted purchasing me and wished he could get his money back. I had a ray of hope when he said that he would try to find another buyer for me and a couple of weeks later he finally did.
My new Master was a woman and I felt that I had died and gone to heaven. She was the most beautiful creature on the earth although I knew that my opinion was heavily influenced by her being the first woman I had seen in a year. As she inspected me thoroughly I was in a haze of happiness and she enjoyed the slavish way I looked at her.
While being transported hogtied in a closed lightless box, I thought to myself that if my new Master did to me what the previous Master had done, it wouldn’t be bad. I wouldn’t mind all of the sexual things I would have to do for her and might even enjoy some of them and I would probably be able to suffer the pain better since it would be for a woman.
I could not have been more wrong. There were no sexual acts, my new Master simply enjoyed causing me pain. And it was not light pain. I shudder to even think about any of it now but my balls were contorted in very painful ways, tight clips was put on the end of my penis and on my nipples, and, … I just can’t take remembering all those dozens of different horrible tortures.
And even worse was that she was expert at keeping me in the moment as much as possible so that there was no fog of pain to protect me. I passed out probably dozens or hundreds of times during my time as her slave but the combination of smelling salts and whatever other techniques she had kept me awake and aware through the most intense agony.
I have no idea how many weeks or months passed but at some point she tired of me and sold me to another Master. I remember hoping that it was a Master who enjoyed killing but I had no such luck. This new Master was a man who enjoyed giving pain just like the previous Master. The tortures were different but the enjoyment was the same. I don’t remember much of anything else about him, he sold me after just a couple of weeks.
My next Masters kept me in a room with other naked male slaves and we were made to have an orgy together every day for our Masters’ pleasure. It was more bearable than the agony of the previous Masters but there was still pain since part of the orgy involved torture.
My memory is very hazy about any of the details of this time, I think after all of the pain and humiliation I felt like I was shutting down emotionally.
I do remember having a dream in which I saw an angel with wings, he asked me if I would like to be back in the coal mines and I said yes over and over again. Yes please send me back to the mines, I will love it there, please I would love to toil forever in the mines.
I don’t remember what happened but at some point I was sold or given to someone else and when I came to my senses again I was back in the mines. I was so happy that I cried and my old Masters laughed that I could be so happy to be back.
I worked as hard as I could and with enthusiasm, very grateful to be back home. I cried every night for weeks in gratitude that I was allowed to work instead of suffering torture. In my Saturday night interrogations I would tell the Master that I was happy to be here and would even get on my knees to prove the point. I was exempted from the touch of the bullwhip.
I guess happiness is a very strange thing. There are people who have the best life in the world but are miserable or depressed and others who are happy with what they have. For me, I am happy to be free from torture and content to live my life toiling in slavery.
Word Count = 3,800
See all my stories at http://www.assdisc.com.