The Search

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You're surprised to wake up in a prison cell.
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You wake up to find yourself lying on a rubber mat. As you come to, you realize two things – first, you're naked as the day you were born, and second, you're lying in what appears to be a cell of some sort. It is a well-lit room, about eight feet wide and about ten to twelve feet long.

The mat that you are on is framed by a cement box, with what appear to be three pairs of loops on both sides of the box, embedded into the floor. There is a loop about a foot and a half from the head of the frame, one in the middle, and one near the foot of the frame.

The one wall has a metal mesh window set in concrete block. In fact, the entire room is painted concrete block. There is a tile floor – tile like you would see on the floor of a sauna or of a locker room shower, very heavy-duty. As you roll over – uncomfortably, as the mat is not intended for extended sleep – you see that there is a metal sink and a toilet. The toilet is reinforced with a concrete "shell" that makes it look as though it is part of the floor. Right next to the toilet is a large metal door with a window about halfway up. The window is of pretty decent size, about a foot and a half wide by about two feet. Below the window are two openings – chutes that are obviously made to allow for handcuffing and shackling.

What catches your eye is a metal box with a glass plate in the upper corner of the room, across from the toilet. Below it is a metal grate that looks like a speaker. You instantly realize you're being watched on this camera. A second later a face appears at the door window. The face, however, is hid by the visor of a helmet, almost like a motorcycle helmet.

You hear a voice boom over the speaker: "Are you ready to comply to that search now?" the voice says. You vaguely remember hearing that voice before, but you don't know where from. You realize you're cold, tired, and have no clue as to why you are in the room you're in.

"Wh-wh-wh-where am I?" you squeak out. The visored face pauses, apparently needing to hear what you said repeated to him.

"You were brought in last night from a concert, as part of a disruptive crowd of people," you hear. "You refused to be searched for contraband, so you were placed in here until you decided to comply."

"Muh-mu-muh-my clothes?" you stammer out. Another pause.

"You didn't have much on when you were brought in," the voice says, with a note of sympathy – or was it amusement? "We had to remove what you did have on because of the tear gas." You suddenly realize that your eyes are burning a bit. "Should have gotten most of it off of you – the tear gas, I mean." Another pause. "Are you ready to comply to that search now?"

You don't remember anything about last night. You don't remember a crowd, about refusing anything. You just know that you're cold, scared and huddled in a very hard and strange cell. You don't say anything for a few beats.

"Fine, then you can just stay in there until you do agree to comply," the voice says, and the visored person walks off.

"Wait!" you nearly scream, but it comes out as a squeak. The visored person stops, turns toward you. "Yes, yes, I'll agree to the search, anything, anything to get my clothes back…"

The visor looks down for a second. "Come over to the door." You do so. "Turn around and face the back of the room, with your hands behind you. Don't move." You do this, and you hear the upper chute opening. You turn your head, only to hear "DON'T MOVE" said to you sternly. You freeze and close your eyes. Your eyes have stopped tearing. You don't recall anything about last night at all… A pair of handcuffs is placed on you, and you hear them click shut, and then a further click as they are locked, one manacle at a time. Then, you feel tension on the cuffs.

"Kneel down on the floor." You do so, awkwardly, as you feel your arms being pulled above and behind you from the tension on the cuffs. The lower chute is opened, and a pair of shackles is placed on your ankles, one leg at a time. Quickly the cuffs snap shut, and the click tells you that they have been locked as well.

The tension on the cuffs is released. "Get up and move to the mat, kneeling down facing the wall away from the door." You do so, somewhat uncertain as to what will happen next. Out of the corner of your eye you see the chutes being closed, and then you hear and see the center mechanism move – and the door opens.

In walks what appears to be a man behind a padded suit, wearing a visored storm-trooper-like helmet. He has on rubber gloves and what appears to be a mostly armored suit. He quickly goes to your arms and pulls them back, giving you a sudden pain in your shoulder muscles.

"Now, if you have any ideas about not complying while we do this search," the voice says from behind the visor, "you'll find yourself in this position. Understood?" You nod vigorously, and he lets your arms fall back to a more comfortable position. "Remain still." The trooper begins to run his fingers through your hair – looking for anything that might be there. He runs his fingers over your entire head – you realize that your earrings aren't there, oh God, those were my good earrings too – and then you find his latex-covered fingers prying your mouth open. The fingers run along the sides of your teeth, lifting your tongue unwillingly. After they are removed you involuntarily spit – he has made sure to get out of your way from that. He remains silent as he takes his hands and lifts both of your breasts, feeling the underside for anything that may have been there. A hand on both sides pats down your front and back, to just above your buttocks and just above your pubic area.

"Bend over please," the visor says to you. You do this; suddenly realizing what he intends to do. You let out a bit of a squeak when two fingers pry open your anal opening, fingering inside, apparently looking for something. You suddenly realize that he is pressing deliberately in a circle around your anus – is he trying to turn me on?

Just as quickly, the fingers slide out of you, and the visored one gets up for a second. You hear a distinct snap and you wince, imagining you are about to be whipped or some such thing. You hear a chuckle. "Relax, only changing gloves," the voice says. Something about that voice. Something familiar…

The hand comes back and feels around your legs and thighs, and even down to your toes – searching between your toes, sheesh! What do they think I'd be hiding down there, athlete's foot? Then, with a smooth motion up your leg, the knees of the searcher plant themselves behind you, forcing your legs to spread wide.

You feel the finger run across your exposed labia. Your hands, planted behind you, are digging into the thigh of your searcher. The finger gently splays your labia to one side, and another hand comes forward and presses itself into your vaginal opening. Your hands are pinned to your side by his knee, and his fingers dive into you, almost prying you apart. You start to yell when you realize that your searcher is whispering in your ear.

"Relax, My Sweet," you hear Him say.

Suddenly your hands fall back from your side, and the fingers make a distinct rubbing motion in and out of your pussy. You feel your hands against a crotch – a very male, very hard crotch. The hand that held your labia apart reaches up by your face – no, His face – and removes the visored helmet from your searcher's head.

You look – no, it can't be…

Your Master. He smiles and kisses you softly on the cheek, fingering you as you nearly collapse against His body armor.

"You appear to be all right, My Sweet," He says to you. "It was a good thing I managed to get you separated from that rowdy crowd last night." You suddenly remember being at a concert festival when a fight apparently broke out around you. You remember being maced, passing out… "I saw you were in the middle of the melee and had you segregated from the others, My Sweet," He continues, fingering you and holding you softly. "I knew you wouldn't be trouble, so I took care of your arrangements myself."

You have a million questions at this point, but the only thing you can concentrate on is the feel of His fingers pulsing in and out of your wet pussy. You moan softly… "Ohhhhh MiLord thank You for Your concern of this one…"

A hand rises up – a bare hand, you notice now – and begins to play with your nipples as His fingers continue to pound in and out of you relentlessly. You gasp after a while as a shattering orgasm fills you, then slowly subsides.

You feel a soft kiss on your cheek, then suddenly you are pressed forward. "Well, you're clean, apparently, but I think you were a bit too resistive to complete that body cavity search appropriately." Suddenly, you feel a separate handcuff on your wrist, then the other cuff quickly released – then your hands pulled from you as you are turned around onto your back. One cuff is locked to the loops you saw embedded in the concrete on your left side, then on your right side with the other.

"There, you won't be going anywhere for a while," He says to you. You look up at your Master, in his full trooper outfit. "I'll be back with the rest of your restraints," He tells you. You whimper and beg Him not to go. "Not to worry, My Sweet, I'll be right back." He walks out of the room, and the door closes behind Him with a metallic thud.

It seems an eternity until you hear the lock open, but you hear it, and He appears to you again. This time, your Master isn't wearing the heavy armor. Instead, He has on what appears to be a uniform – white buttoned shirt, gray slacks and black athletic shoes.

"That SRT uniform can be too bulky for me," He says to you as He places several items at the side of the bed. You strain to see them, but can't quite make them out. He moves to your feet. "Lay still, My Sweet – this goes much easier if you're not thrashing around." You lay your legs out, and feel a second manacle lock down on both ankles. You then hear a click-clank sound, and then you realize that the other shackles have been removed. You are now locked in a four-point restraint, with each limb shackled or cuffed to one of the loops on the bed. He then tosses the shackles to the door – which, interestingly enough, is partially closed – and pulls out a padded Velcro strap. He places the pad down at about your midriff, and loops the straps through both sides of the middle loops on the bed.

"Now, take a deep breath for me," He tells you. "Let it out slowly." As you let it out, He compresses the Velcro together, tightening the restraint across your midsection. He looks down at you. "Is that okay?" You test it, and though it's tight, you can still breathe – you nod, yes. "Good. Now, let's have a look-see. My boss doesn't believe that I searched your crevasses completely."

A latex-gloved hand goes to your pubic area, and this time both hands pry open your labia lips. A sharp pain from the rough treatment of your pussy is replaced by warm, feeling fingers that pry into and press around your vaginal walls. A thumb idly brushes against your clitoris as the fingers prod and poke into your pussy, and you involuntarily convulse at the touch.

"Oh my, you're making a mess. Let's see if we can't clean that up." You look down and see your Master lapping at your pussy, His fingers splaying you open and His tongue eagerly lapping up your juices. The whole view sends you over the edge, and you cum violently, shuddering through waves of orgasms as His tongue laps away at you.

A few minutes pass by – you feel like you're almost floating over the bed. All you can feel is your Master's tongue lapping away at your hungry, wanting pussy. When finally you get a breath again, you hear yourself saying, "Please, Master, feed your servant's pussy your wonderful cock… I need to be filled with your cock, MiLord… please, I beg of you…"

He sits up from his eager lapping and looks at you for a second. "I've never heard you ask Me like that before, My Sweet," He says. "Are you sure that is what you want?"

"Yes, MiLord, I live only to please you, to serve you and your wonderful cock, please, Master, fill me…" He undoes His pants in front of you, slides them down with His shorts and reveals His penis to you. Kneeling between your bound legs, He rubs His cock along the edges of your swollen pussy lips.

You press forward, trying to force yourself onto His cock. He pulls back, teasing you for a moment. Then, when you lunge again, He swiftly enters you.

You begin to fuck furiously, looking up at Him as he thrusts harder and deeper into you. He leans back, sliding His knees behind your thighs and lifting you up so His cock angles against your G-spot. The two of you thrust against each other, your motions intensified by your bonds and by His constant assault on your pussy.

You seem to go in and out of consciousness, feeling wave after wave of orgasm fill you as His cock presses you to a long, sustained orgasm. His free hand fingers your clit as He pounds you with His cock. You suddenly convulse, and all you hear is the sustained smack smack smack of His balls and body pounding against yours. Then, suddenly, you hear a scream – and it's not your voice, but His, as He lets go of His own climax.

The familiar warm spurt of cum shoots inside your pussy walls, and you instinctively clamp down, letting your Master's seed fill your hungry pussy. Your orgasm peaks, each grunt of your Master tweaking it just a bit, then softly subsiding as He relaxes. He is careful not to fall forward onto you, but gently props himself on His arm next to you. He looks into your eyes, and kisses you deeply.

"You are truly mine, My Sweet," He says to you.

"Thank you, MiLord," you say back to Him. "Without you I may not have continued to live." He smiles and continues to kiss you.

A minute passes, and then He rises up and puts His shorts and pants back on. "I think you'll be free to go, miluv," He says to you. You turn your head to one side – you've never heard Him call you that before. "That's My private name for you, miluv. Only you and I shall share it. The least I can do." He rises and goes to walk out. "Oh, except for this."

He goes to the door, opens it, and pulls out a bag. He shows you the contents – your clothing. "We had it washed. Should have all that nasty OC spray out of it by now." He places it down by the sink, and then kneels down beside you.

"I care so much for you, My Sweet," He says to you. He leans forward and kisses you on the lips. Then, methodically, He undoes each one of your shackles, lovingly rubbing and kissing each limb where the metal was constraining the skin. You sit up, and He hands you your clothes.

"Get dressed, and I'll get you a ride home." You nod and smile.

"Thank you, Master," you say genuinely.

"Your welcome, miluv."

You get your clothes on, freshly laundered and warm. You notice in the bottom of the bag is an envelope. Inside the envelope are your earrings, and a simple chain necklace with a tag. The tag simply has your Master's initial on it – your collar. You smile, and proudly put it around your neck. You get up just in time to see the door open for you. Your Master escorts you out the door, with you at His arm.

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