Date: Fri, 18 Dec 2009 15:44:27 +0000
From: g d <wheels-on-fire@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Replaced

Cold. It aches my bones and clings through my flesh. It's dark in here. It
always is dark. The basement rarely floods with light. The floor is hard
beneath my pale cold skin. A small amount of noise seeps through the
celling. The faint sound of a television is on upstairs. He's in the living
room above me.  He will be sitting in his arm chair, his feet will be
wresting on the boi upstairs. He will ache, but at least he will be warm.
The boi will get a scratch on his head and is lucky to get Master's
attention. But not me. I've been replaced. He still keeps me, he may
remember he has his favorite boi downstairs. I didn't do anything wrong. At
least I don't think I have. I never made Him angry. I always did as told. I
came to live with him, I dropped out of university after my first term. He
had offered me the freedom of captivity. He said I would be well cared for
and loved, as long as I did what he said. At first It was great. Painful. I
fucked up a lot in the begging, I would be punished most days and it took
some time for me to earn the right to stay in his bed. I learnt how to be
his perfect boi, I was the envy of his peers. Things went well for the
first three years, but he soon became bored. He wanted more from this life,
more then I could give him. He searched and that was when I saw the new
boi. The boi was three years younger. Eighteen. I was looking back at a boi
who was me, three years ago. He was lustful of Master, he was excited about
this new daring lifestyle that he was about to embark upon. Master turned
to me, I was to train him to be the best boi, to share with him what I had
learnt, show him exactly how Master liked to be treated. Brothers of slaves
we were. We would keep Master happy, and slowly, over the next ten weeks I
showed my brother slave how to be the best a Man could get. Master had
planned a special night for us. We both serviced him. We were both allowed
to cum. We were very happy, Master was pleased with us and our family had
grown. We both slept in his bed with him that night.

I awoke in the morning with a lead attached to my collar. Master was
pulling at me, to get out of bed. Remembering where I was I moved out from
under the covers and to my knees infront of Master. It was still early in
the morning, the clock illuminated brother slave, still sound asleep in
bed, a contented smile across his face. I looked down at masters feet. He
tugged twice on the lead, I was to follow Him. He took me down stairs to
the kitchen where my bowl was placed on the floor and I ate porridge. When
I was done I looked up at him as he took the bowl away. His back was turned
away from me whist he was standing at the sink, rinsing my bowl out.

"You've been a good boi." He said to me. "You have done as asked and I am
proud of you. I now have a well trained boi to serve me. You have grown a
lot in the three years we've had together." He turned around. Looked down
at me. I didn't understand. He was using the past tense. He looked down and
sullen. He handed me my bow and told me to follow him. I was allowed to
stand. I wanted to ask him some questions. But I wouldn't. Speaking without
permission is bad.

We descended down into the basement. The switch at the stop of the stairs
illuminated the single bulb. The basement was used to punish and to play,
it was his dungeon. I never really liked being in there. It was always cold
and usually meant something I did not like was about to happen. I hadn't
done anything wrong. I assumed he wanted to play with me. He took me to one
corner, a cage was set there. It was fairly large, large enough to sit up
in, or to curl up to sleep in. There was no padding inside. He told me to
get down on my knees. I obeyed. He unlocked the cage and indicated that I
should crawl inside. I placed the bowl down infront of me, then the door
was closed. He went to a shelf, a half full bottle of water was there.
"Don't drink too much boi." He said, as he poured the water into my bowl.

He crouched down infront of me. "Look at me." He said, my eyes rose up from
their respectable downcast gase. They met him. He looked older then
usual. He was about forty, but looked tired. "You have been a good boi." He
said after puffing out the air from his chest, again, the past tense. "I
want you to keep being good." He put his hand against the cage, his finders
grasping the holes and the mesh. "I want you to know that I am proud of how
you turned out" He continued. Why was he saying this. Why was I here. I
felt unnerved. For the first time in three years I felt scared. I felt that
he was no longer in control. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't
like it. He started, as if he was about to say something else, but he
didn't. He made several more attempts at saying something more but then
stopped. He looked sad. I had started to shake. I looked at him with
pleading eyes. He forced a smile and finally said "Make me proud." and
withdrew his finders from the cage. He turned and walked away. He walked up
the stairs, turned and looked once more then turned out the light and shut
the door behind him.

I shook, something was wrong. I started to panic, I cried and shook.
"Master!" I screamed. "Master!" I shouted again. No response. I panicked
more. "Colourful" I shouted. It was my safe word. I wanted this to stop.
Something was really wrong. He didn't come. I cried. I gave up calling. I
shivered on the cold floor.

It was not until evening that something happened. I had listed to Master
and brother slave in the house upstairs. They had ignored me all day. The
door to the drive opened. It was dark again. It was well past evening. I
heard another man's voice talking to Master. They were too far away for me
to hear clearly. I heard some laughter and a third voice and then a car
reversing on the gravel. Two men came into the basement. They carried with
them a pole each. I was quiet. I was scared. The poles were pushed through
the runners at the top of the cage and then they lifted me. The cage was
moved like a stretcher out into the cold air outside. It bit into my flesh.
I thought before that I did not have feeling in my skin, but now I felt as
if icy shards were pushed into me. The truck was close by, its back doors
opened. The cage was loaded in. I moved around. I didn't know what was
happening. This was wrong. The doors were shut and I stopped to listen to
the conversation out side. Master was standing, illuminated at the front
door. The two men shook hands with him and walked back towards the truck.
They got in and the truck moved away, up the drive.

I was moving away from all I had known for years. "Master!" I called. I was
being taken away to a new place. "Master!" I was being removed. "Master!" I
was replaced. "Master!"



I shall leave the story there. There will not be any subsequent chapters.
Tell me what you think of this story of loss via email
wheels-on-fire@homtail.co.uk