Sausages for the Slave Ch. 15

Dan gazed longingly at her husband, as she rhythmically grunted and thrusted, her blue white buttocks tensing and flexing, as she delivered his sperm deep into her wife. That should be me down there, thought Dan. That's my job. I should be grunting and thrusting. How long had it been since he had done that, Dan wondered. He couldn't really remember the last time he had full man-on-woman intercourse with Mary. He knew theoretically. He could calculate it back. Probably sometime before he signed the slave contract. But he couldn't remember it actually. It was a bit worrying to have forgotten the last time he fucked a woman properly.

Dan found himself thrusting his hips out from the post in time with the redhead's thrusts, wanting to do it, wanting to play his part in that most fundamental of human activities. Wanting to be a free man. Free to do the very thing he was put on the planet to do; deliver his seed. But that was before he decided to become a slave. Instead, here he was, tied up and watching helplessly while somebody else delivered his seed. Who's regretting it now, Dan?

The happy couple rested a moment after they finished fucking right there in front of Dan. Gentle kisses were exchanged. Eyes looked deep and lovingly into eyes. Then the husband slowly withdrew, drawing her partner's legs together and rotating them to the side. The husband stood and removed her harness and dildo. Placed them in a plastic bag and put them away. So that's it thought Dan. Show's over. He was feeling fairly drained now, but happy that he had done his bit -- twice over. Sophia should be happy.

But the redhead wasn't finished with Dan yet. Still naked, she walked over once more. Dan felt a little threatened by her approach this time, a little apprehensive. Surely she's done with me, he thought. She's already got more than she's paid for. But the husband lady didn't think so. She held the prostate massager remote in her hand, finger on the button. Dan felt the buzz move up steadily through the five levels to max, almost uncomfortable, causing him, once more, to rock his hips and thrust into space, seeking relief, his penis hardening again despite the discomfort.

Again she placed one hand under his balls, grasped the handle of the pulsating massager and started fucking his ass steadily. Her other hand stroked his penis to full hardness again. She fitted a condom - the third of the session - and milked him mercilessly until she got the desired result. Dan came in jerks, somewhat painfully, especially as she kept stroking him hard after he came, milking him dry, until he had no more to give. As before, she transferred her smaller harvest to a glass phial and into the cool box.

By the time Dan had got his breath back after that final and slightly brutal drawing off of his sperm, the two ladies had dressed. The red head had taken a few photos of him with her phone while her wife was packing up the yoga mat and gathering their stuff. They went out the door and closed it behind them chatting happily to themselves. The coffee and biscuits remained untouched. Dan could hear their goodbyes upstairs. Sounded happy. Heard the front door shut. Silence. Dan waited for Sophia to release him.

While he waited, Dan reviewed his performance. He felt the boy had done good. Delivered the goods on time and to order. Probably over-delivered, but could he help that? Three ejaculations inside an hour and a bit, he guessed. The ladies were probably planning to have two more insemination sessions over the next two days, Dan the scientist decided. Maximise chances of conception. Soon Dan heard Sophia clattering down the stairs, bright and lively. She came in the open basement door, all smiles.

'Well done, Slave,' she said as she loosened the headband that had been holding his head tight to the post.

'Push out your hips.'

Dan, the stud bull, obliged. Maybe Sophia wants to measure the length of the stud's penis, he imagined fondly, for the statistics on the website. Maybe it had grown. Sophia reached under him, pulled the prostate massager out of his ass and dropped it into a plastic bag. She quickly slipped his day diaper up behind his ass, pulled the front up and did up the Velcro tabs. She patted it snugly into place under his crotch and gently squeezed his balls through the diaper after she'd done.

'Just checking it's a snug fit,' she commented, looking Dan in the eyes, forcing him to drop his gaze, pulling him brutally off his stud bull pedestal and bringing him back down to the humiliating slave status that was his daily lot. Just like that, Dan was put back in his box. Waiting silently for his owner to decide what use to make of him next. Waiting to be untied from the whipping post. Waiting to be put to work for the rest of the day. Just as Sophia was about to unclip his hands, the doorbell rang.

'Hold on a minute. That must be them back again. Probably forgot something,' she said over her shoulder, briskly heading upstairs.

Dan heard muffled voices followed by silence. A little later Sophia appeared in the basement doorway again. She was walking slowly backwards with her hands on her head. The reason she was walking backwards was because there was a woman prodding her in the chest with a small gun forcing her to walk backwards, step by backward step, until they were both standing beside Dan. The gun wielding woman's face was hidden by a blue Covid face mask and large dark sunglasses. She was dressed in a black snug jumpsuit, the legs of which were tucked into a pair of kick-ass black Doc Martins. A black beanie covered her head. On her back was a tidy black rucksack. Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider came to Dan's mind, before the seriousness of the situation put such trivial thoughts aside.

Dan was naked, gagged and tied. It made him a very vulnerable spectator in this ballet between the woman in black and a clearly very anxious Sophia. He hoped he was going to remain a spectator. What if this woman suddenly turned the gun on him? What if she was going to demand that he come again, right now? Was she a sperm thief? If so, Dan seriously doubted that he would be able to deliver. He could feel nothing from his cock, which was taking a well-earned rest. He didn't want to look down for fear of drawing attention to his diaper and the flatness of its front, No heaving piece of manhood to be found there just now. The possibility that he might be about to be shot for failing to deliver the goods crossed his mind. He closed his eyes and desperately tried to think sexy thoughts.

'Untie him,' said the mystery woman, waving her gun in Dan's direction. She's American, definitely, decided Dan. He vaguely recognised the voice. But he couldn't place it, not immediately anyway. He'd need to hear her speak some more.

Dan opened his eyes to see Sophia nervously scramble to get his hands and legs unclipped from the rings of the whipping post. The masked intruder slipped off her back pack while this was happening. She then told Sophia to undo Dan's leather cuffs and collar. Is this it, wondered Dan. Am I about to be set free?

The woman in black had pulled out an orange garment from her rucksack and told the newly freed Dan to put it on. As the still gagged Dan quickly obliged, he pointed to his diaper with one hand, wondering if it should be removed too. 'Leave it on. You'll be needing it.' Came the unexpectedly curt response. Dan wasn't going to argue. He pulled on what was a workman's type coveralls and zipped it up. Having done this he pointed to his gag, raising his eyebrows, questioning. 'We'll leave that on too, Dan. It's necessary. You'll see why,' came the reply.

She called me Dan, thought Dan. She definitely called me Dan. So she knows me and I know that I know her from somewhere.... From his home town, probably, but who?

While Dan hurried to zip up his orange coveralls, the woman in black pulled some chains and shackles out of her backpack and tossed them to Sophia. 'Cuff his hands in front and put this chain tight around his waist and lock the cuffs to it. Then shackle his feet with these.' Sophia hopped to it. She was going to do to Dan whatever the woman in black told her to do to Dan. No point in getting shot for a slave would be her reasoning. Can always buy another one. Meanwhile, Dan was perplexed and worried. He'd had less than one minute of freedom before he found himself back in handcuffs and leg irons. Am I being kidnapped for my sperm? Is she going to keep me as a sperm slave?

'Don't worry, Dan. This is just for the optics,' said the woman in black in response to Dan's anxious frown. 'I'm getting you out of here.'

Oh, yeah, thought Dan, then why am I tied up? He started running through who she might be. Could she be one of the old Slave Dan podcast subscribers? Missing her weekly fix of Slave Dan's antics, maybe. But he definitely recognised the voice. Someone from his old school or, from the shops he used go to in town, or even one of the Manor Homes Village people? Who could it be?

The woman in black had turned her attention to Sophia. Directed her to stand against the whipping post and produced another set of handcuffs. She cuffed one of Sophia's wrists and closed the other end of the handcuff around one of the rings in the post. A taste of her own medicine, thought Dan.

'There is a timer built into those cuffs. They will pop open in two hours. You'll be fine,' said the woman in black to Sophia and she promptly led a shuffling Dan out of the basement, across the corridor and into the garage that had been Dan's route into the house on the night of the great slave escape scam. Dan had managed a brief glance back at Sophia. She didn't meet his eyes, she was looking at the floor. Probably calculating how much she lost on her investment. He doubted that anyone was offering insurance cover for stolen slaves.

'Now Dan, I have been trying to find you, but it wasn't easy. Until a few days ago that is. Once your owner put your picture went up on the internet, the problem was solved. It was the face pic that mattered, though the rest was very nice too. I've had an image search running for the past two weeks. Once it matched you, I tapped into the emails from Sophia to her potential sperm donor customers. That way I got the address and the time of today's appointment. 'Et voila!' as they say in these parts,'

Dan had lots of questions, starting with who are you and where are we going, but he was still gagged and the women in black seemed intent on keeping him gagged.

She had shuffled Dan over past the old bicycle and the lawnmower to the small door that led to the driveway and, Dan had hoped, freedom. But now he was less sure. Freedom doesn't rhythm easily with gagged and shackled. Through the small dust covered slit window beside the garage door, Dan could see a black transit van backed into Sophia's driveway. The lady in black turned Dan to face her. She put a blue Covid face mask over his gagged mouth. Everything is black, Dan was thinking. She's all in black, the van is black. For some reason the film Men in Black came to his mind. Is she from some super-secret organisation? It's like I'm about to be transported to another planet.

As if sensing Dan's disquiet, the lady in black explained.

'All this is necessary, Dan, to get you out of France and back to the States. Remember you have no passport, no ID, no money. I can't deliver you to Charles de Gaulle and put you on the next flight to New York. So we have to fly under the radar, so to speak. This will not be your normal civilian passenger jet experience. It's going to be an uncomfortable ride. But when it's all over you can put me over your knee and punish me severely for not rescuing you sooner. Isn't that so, Daddy?'

And with that broad hint, realisation dawned on Dan. Had he been free of the face mask and gag, his rescuer would have seen a broad grin of recognition spread across his face. The lady in black was none other than Elizabeth Metcalfe, the youngest resident of Manor Homes Village. She had used Dan occasionally for a bit of Daddy play. Which Dan had enjoyed greatly. Dan had guessed she was about thirty years old. An unusually quiet and retiring type, she lived alone in a fairly big, expensive, house. Dan often wondered about her mysterious job in some mysterious research outfit. Now he wondered even more.

'To get you home, I'm going to piggyback on an existing system we have in place. It's called Extraordinary Rendition. The purpose is to whisk baddies out of wherever we find them and bring them to wherever we want. In this case, Dan, the destination is Guantanamo Bay detention camp in Cuba.' Elizabeth could see Dan's eyed open wide with fright. She had to calm that pony down.

'Don't panic Dan. That is not your destination, though it is where your two travelling companions will be heading. The aircraft, a small executive jet, refuels at an air force base on the east coast before heading for Cuba. My man at the base will take you off the aircraft, repackage you and send you on by road to Manor Homes Village. You will be sitting on my driveway locked in a U-Haul trailer waiting for me when I get home.'

While nodding away to show he was keeping up, Dan was putting two and two together. A transport system 'we' have in place? That must mean she's CIA or some sort of black ops outfit. Explains a lot; the mystery research institute, the unexplained absences, the fuzziness about what exactly she does. It all fits.

'It will be a long journey, Dan. Fourteen to sixteen hours or so from now till you get home. But you'll survive. How do I know you'll be okay?' Elizabeth was grinning cheekily at him now. 'Because I know you've been having only the best of nourishment for the past three weeks. I hacked into Sophia's online slave blog. I could see she's given you the best start in life a baby could get. Haw, haw, haw.'

Elizabeth gave Dan a poke in the ribs as she said this. Enjoying the moment. Cut the embarrassing chit-chat and the haw, haw, haw, he was thinking. Not the time for jokes, especially jokes at his expense. Elisabeth must have noticed him frowning. That 'teacher is not well pleased' look must be universal, even when the teacher is gagged and masked.

'Oh, dear, I'm being soo-o naughty, Daddy. You are soo-o going to make me so regret this,...I hope,' smirked Elizabeth, giving Dan another poke in the ribs.

'Here's the sort of plan I've hashed out, Dan. You'll stay in my house. Give me a good time when I want a good time. Serve the other neighbours in Manor Wood same as before. Cut the grass all that, and extra on the side to those that want it. That will keep everybody happy. And when Mary comes back from Dubai, I'll hand you back. Then she can do whatever she wants with you. Seems fair?'

Dan nodded his absolute agreement. Any plan that got him out of Viroflay and back to Manor Homes Village was a good plan. The details were just that. Details. Dan just wanted her to get him out of Sophia's basement - now. Elizabeth must have got the message, or maybe got a signal into her ear, secret service style, from the driver of the transit van. She went straight back to business.

'OK, let's go.'

Firmly grabbing Dan's elbow, she opened the small metal garage door and ushered him outside. Dan, as he was propelled, shuffling along, was still blushing at the thought that she had watched him being breast fed online. How many others had watched his humiliation? Had Mary seen it too? He wondered in horror about what else they might have seen. But all those concerns were banished by the joy of stepping through that door. For the first time in over three weeks, Dan stood in the open air. He looked up at the pale blue early winter sky, listened to the birds singing, felt the wind on his face. This is what freedom is all about. I want to be free, he thought.

'Let's get you into the van,' said Elisabeth, sliding back the passenger door with its dark tinted window, impossible to see through, like all the other windows. There were three rows of seats behind the driver's seat and a wire mesh separated the passenger compartment from the front. Dan saw two people already sitting in the van. Like him they were dressed in orange coveralls, shackled and with blue face masks covering their mouths. Ski goggles covered their eyes, ear muffs on their ears. Their heads were lolling against the window and they looked asleep. Elizabeth helped Dan clamber in on his knees because the shackles wouldn't let him lift his foot up high enough to step in. It was a bit undignified, but Elizabeth managed to whoosh him up enough to get him sitting on the seat beside the door and fastened his seat belt.

'Dan, this is where I leave you. Your travelling companions are sedated but coming out of it. They've already travelled some distance to get to Paris. You pretend to be sedated too. Act sleepy. You will all be sedated again on the aircraft after take-off.'

Elizabeth fastened Dan's seatbelt and fitted a pair of ski goggles over his eyes. To Dan's surprise he couldn't see through them. The glass in them had been painted over. She tapped Dan on the head. 'Stay safe, Daddy. See you on the other side.' Then all went quiet as Dan felt her place a set of ear muffs over his ears.

The van moved off briskly leaving Dan feeling uneasy. He considered that Elizabeth had been a tad blasé. Just sending him off like this, like an Amazon parcel routed from China. Into some van, out of the van, into a warehouse, onto a plane, transferred to another plane, into some other warehouse, and so on. Stuff gets lost in transit all the time. He would have preferred it if Elizabeth was accompanying him. But he supposed, to console himself, that she and her organisation does this all the time, Paris today, Kabul tomorrow, Baghdad the next. He told himself he should be happy, overall. Things were happening. He should focus on the positives. It was enough for now. He was getting out of France.

Dan allowed his head to lol back against the side window of the van, like the other two had been. He didn't need to do much else to look like he was sedated. After about an hour's travelling the van slowed. There were a few short stops and starts before the van finally stopped and the engine was switched off.

Dan felt his seat belt being opened. Two pairs of hands gripped him under his elbows on each side and half marched, half carried him a short distance and up a few steps. He was plonked down into what he assumed was an aircraft seat. He felt himself being buckled in. This didn't feel like a normal lap belt on a commercial airliner. It was a more complex affair, like what pilots have, or in a kiddie car seat. Straps were dropped over each shoulder. A second pair were brought around the outside of each of his arms to pin them against his body. They all clipped tightly into a central spot about stomach high. Then his feet were held in place with straps around his shins.

Still pretending to be woozy and not resisting, Dan was thinking, uneasily, that this is what being strapped in an electric chair must feel like. All they needed to do now was put a metal cap on his head. To put that thought out of his mind he wondered what would happen if the 'in the unlikely event of an emergency' moment actually happened. He supposed nobody would be too fussed. Three terrorists less to trouble Uncle Sam.

They weren't done prepping Dan yet. He felt his forearms being placed, then held, on each of the arm rests. He could just about hear the tearing sound that sticky tape makes coming off the roll as they fixed his forearms to the arm rests. Sounds like they are using the whole roll of it to do it, he thought.

A while later, after sensing a bit of rocking of the small aircraft as people got in and out, things went quiet. Then Dan felt as much as heard that deep vibration through his body as the engines build power. He imagined that things would be rattling up in the galley, if there was a galley. Then a steady, accelerating bump - bump - bump - bump along the runway, transiting to that smooth silence which means lift-off has happened. The thump of the undercarriage being stowed, told him they were properly on their way. Dan relaxed a little. He was going home.