MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 4

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bondagefreak
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MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 4

Postby bondagefreak » Wed Dec 27, 2017 11:40 pm

Note from author: PG-17 - Please be advised, this story contains BDSM, non-consensual bondage, sex, violence, slavery, graphic scenery and other adult themes not suitable for minors. Viewer discretion is advised.


MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN



PROLOGUE

How I came to fall in love with the ruthless, cold-blooded killer that calls himself my Master, is a complete mystery.
Yet here I am, unable to deny the burning attraction and love I feel for the man who took my freedom away from me.

From the moment I saw him and met his harsh, fiery gaze, I knew I was his.

I'd been betrayed, by nothing less than my own heart.
In those few, brief moments where freedom had offered itself to me, I'd remained paralyzed, unable to flee, unwilling to escape my harsh Master's dictatorial rule.

I was his; body and soul.

Now that I've proven my worth and earned his trust, I've been given a bit of freedom. Freedom as Sir's houseboi and personal slave.
Every day now, I'm allowed a bit of personal time. Most of it has been spent reading, drawing, dreaming and star gazing.

For the past couple weeks though, I've been begging Sir for a thick pile of parchement and now that he's found it in his heart to grant me my request, I can finally write my life down on these sheets and come to terms with myself.

Maybe this'll help me find some clarity and make some sense out of these last few months.
Fortunately, my Master does not speak or read my mother tongue. So even if he finds these scribbled notes and lines, he won't be able to make heads or tails of it.

I shall name this journal of mine "Memoirs of a Prisoner". Yes, a title most fitting...for that is what I am; a prisoner.
As much a prisoner of He, as a prisoner of my own heart.


Herein lies my tale.

Let's start from the beginning...

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Last edited by bondagefreak on Tue Jan 16, 2018 12:45 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *PROL

Postby fratboydanny » Thu Dec 28, 2017 12:50 am

Oh my, this sounds like it will be yet another of your masterpieces @bondagefreak! I look forward to seeing the story unfold.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *PROL

Postby Pup » Thu Dec 28, 2017 1:04 am

fratboydanny wrote:Oh my, this sounds like it will be yet another of your masterpieces @bondagefreak! I look forward to seeing the story unfold.

Indeed, Will be interesting to see how this goes.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby bondagefreak » Thu Dec 28, 2017 2:52 am

Chapter 1: The Raid

Alright, where shall I start?
Let's see...
Ah yes, I remember now.
It all arrived on that early August morning, back in Spandeliyon. Or what used to be Spandeliyon.
The last I saw of that town, every one of it's buildings had been ransacked and set on fire.

In retrospect, I should never have ventured so close to the Borderlands.

Spandeliyon and the outlying villages had been raided several times in the months preceding the August attack.
It was a high danger zone, with two nation-states fighting for political dominion over the area.

But I didn't care much for political agendas or military conflicts in the area.
I was young, driven...and a long way from home.


On the final night of my botanical expedition, my party and I decided to stay in one of the famed gambling inns the small town had to offer.
I was gonna be leaving the very next morning and heading home with my instructor and fellow students. I was looking forward to furthering my studies and cataloguing the various medicinal herbs I'd collected during these past few weeks in the wilderness.

Biology and medicine had always been an interest of mine, even as a child, growing up with the other orphaned children at the local Chantry.
I'd often bring home injured or disease-stricken birds and mammals and try to nurse them back to health.
The other boys used to think I was weak, but the clergy sisters loved me and told me I was a gifted soul...whatever that meant.
The Chantry mother had often commended me and encouraged me to pursue my interest in science and botany once I was old enough to leave the orphanage. I'd left the orphanage at age sixteen, almost four years ago.

But enough babbling.
Back to that troublesome night that was about to change my life forever.


After having enjoyed a warm meal with my fellow expedition team members, I ran up the wooden stairs of the inn and retreated to the privacy of my own room.
Bathing in the generous facilities and changing into a fresh, silky blue tunic, I quickly got in bed and closed my eyes as the soft summer breeze spilled in through my open window.


Rest came easy that night and the attack came with little warning.


I woke up to a series of loud shuffling noises downstairs and heard the scream of villagers from out my window.
As I got up from my bed and quickly looked down from my room on the third floor of the inn, I could see armoured men down in the streets. Lots of them!

Building were being set on fire and homes were being pillaged.


I quickly grabbed my boots and put them on.
Grabbing my leather pack and slipping my sheathed dagger into my belt, I quickly opened the door to my room and ran downstairs, towards the inn's main floor.

As soon as I arrived downstairs, I noticed the innkeeper and several other men and women, including some of my expedition team members, putting their weight against the front door and attempting to block any entry into the building by toppling over the dining tables and putting them up against the windows.

I was about to ask the lot of them who those soldiers out in the streets were and what the hell was happening, when suddenly, the main door burst open and several armoured men came in, slicing through two of my teammates and impaling the burly innkeeper with a nasty-looking spear, right through the chest.

One of the waitresses screamed, while the other townsfolk attempted to defend themselves against the heavily armed intruders.


I watched wide eyed as my expedition leader tried surrendering and telling the men that he was just passing by and had no affiliation to any of the local nations.
He was beheaded, right there, in front of me.


More screams erupted from out in the streets and the smell of smoke and fire was beginning to make it's way into the building.


Without any afterthought for the lives of my colleagues, I ran upstairs into my room and slammed the door shut before leaning against it and breathing heavily.
Maybe I was dreaming, I thought to myself. Maybe this was just a nightmare.


But no, this wasn't a dream..this was real.


I had to escape. I had to do something!

Running up to the window and looking down, I realised I'd never survive the fall.
And even if I did, the streets were littered with dead bodies and armed men intent on burning this place to the ground.

The town militia, if there even was such a thing, had most likely been crushed or had fled in the minutes following the attack.

I slumped against the wall and quivered in fear, overwhelmed with the idea of having to defend myself with nothing more than a knife.
I was quick on my feet, but no match for these trained, sword-carrying invaders.



Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs and I knew I had to move.

In my panic, I let my pack down to the floor and quickly slid under the bed, silently praying to whatever gods were listening...begging for salvation.



Everything went quiet.
Presumably, everyone downstairs had been killed.


I held my breath, almost afraid that the beating of my heart would give away my location.


There was definitely someone upstairs with me.
Maybe it was one of the other inn mates. It was a distinct possibility, given there were quite a few others sleeping here tonight.

No. These footsteps were too slow and heavy. This had to be one of the pillagers walking about, going through each room.
There was no other explanation for the slow cadence of his steps.


Suddenly, I heard a loud crash.

A door had been knocked down.
I gasped, but then realised that it wasn't the door to my room.

I heard a panicked voice, one that sounded like that of an old man's.
He was begging.
I couldn't make out the words, but I knew he had to be begging for his life.


Then I heard a garbled scream and heard a heavy thud land on the wooden floor.
I shut my eyes and began whispering one of the Chantry invocations I'd been reciting throughout my years at the orphanage.


It didn't take long for the footsteps to approach and stop in front of my door.
I held my breath and watched the doorway from my hiding spot under the bed.

I heard a clicking sound and realised someone was trying to open the locked door.
I should've left the door unlocked and wide open.
No one would have suspected someone of hiding in a room with the door wide open!


Everything went quiet once again.
For about ten seconds nothing happened.



Then, with a thunderous crash, the door to my room was kicked open, much of the door frame and locking mechanism breaking and shattering into pieces.


I watched as a pair of heavy brown boots walked into the room and watched wide eyed as the intruder circled around the bed and picked my discarded leather pack up.

I heard him rummaging inside it. Then watched the heavy boots move again as the killer slowly walked back towards the other side of the bed.


I remained perfectly still, swallowing the saliva that was beginning to clog my throat.
Why wasn't he leaving?!

He was just standing there, looking down at the bed and not moving!



Without any warning, the entire bed was suddenly lifted up and toppled over, exposing my vulnerable, defenseless form underneath.

I looked up wide eyed at my would-be killer.
Looked at his blood-stained broadsword and menacing black armour set.

I was paralysed, frozen and unable to move a muscle.

This was the end of me, I thought.
I would die here, in this small burning town, at the age of twenty.


Suddenly, a big gloved hand grabbed my hair and lifted me up so that I was kneeling.

The killer was tall and really big. From what I'd seen down one the first floor, these men had no qualms about slaughtering unarmed civilians, even women and children...


My hair was pulled up and my head yanked upwards.


Through the helmet he was wearing, I could see the dark blue war paintings on my killer's forehead.
That's when I met his eyes.

His eyes...they were fierce, dark and merciless.
The eyes of a veteran killer. The eyes of a soldier.


From that moment on, I was his.


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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby squirrel » Thu Dec 28, 2017 2:58 am

Exciting as hell... Keep it up, man! Great job :)

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby Pup » Thu Dec 28, 2017 3:31 am

0/10 No sub forced to sniff sneakers. Bad story. Wouldn't read again.

Nah, awesome start to what I'm sure will be another great story. :)

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby drawscore » Thu Dec 28, 2017 4:25 am

Why is this here? Why is it not in the "Fictional PG-17 Section?"

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby bondagefreak » Thu Dec 28, 2017 7:50 am

drawscore wrote:Why is this here? Why is it not in the "Fictional PG-17 Section?"


For the same reason that Bound and Gagged was pulled out of the PG-17 section years ago.
Stories in the PG-17 section get far less views than their counterparts on the main story board.
The arrangement I have with the staff has not changed.
As long as my PG-17 stories are clearly labelled, all is good.
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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby Sniffingyoursocks » Thu Dec 28, 2017 3:03 pm

Woah.

I know I‘m not the most critical reviewer of your stories, cause I basically fall in love with everything you write.

Still, I want to say how much I enjoyed this.
It is fresh, it‘s new, it‘s brave - at least on this board here.

I can‘t wait to read more and I can‘t wait to hear more from our prisoner and his killer-Master.
Don‘t keep us waiting too long, Sir.
Obey and say 'Yes Master'.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby mrmaxroper » Thu Dec 28, 2017 4:22 pm

An excellent beginning. Definitely looking forward to whatever you have in mind.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby Outta.this.place » Sat Dec 30, 2017 12:14 am

Super good start. Interested to see where it goes :)

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby Nicktie » Sat Dec 30, 2017 9:33 pm

Wow, you got me hooked.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 1

Postby randomboy18 » Sat Dec 30, 2017 11:43 pm

Great start looking forward to the rest of the story

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 2

Postby bondagefreak » Wed Jan 10, 2018 11:53 pm

Chapter 2: The Capture

The fierce, masked hunter looked down at me.
His icy glare was harsh, devoid of any mercy or compassion.
This was the end of me, I thought.
Any moment now, he'd run me through with his sword and let me bleed to death. Either that or slice my neck open and watch the life spill out of me.

The dreaded moment never came though.

I remained there, kneeling and shaking as the cold-blooded killer eyed me with those fierce, angry eyes of his.

My head was yanked upwards a bit and I thought he was gonna slit my throat, but instead he brought his hand down under my chin and moved my head to the left, then to the right.
Not knowing what else to do, I remained perfectly still and quiet.
I could tell that he wasn't the patient type.
Any attempt I made at pleading and whimpering would probably end with me lying on the floor with my entrails spilling out.


Tears ran down my eyes as I silently recited one of the few invocations I'd learned as a child.
Death was staring me right in the face and I could only hope and pray that this man would somehow find it in his heart to spare my life...or at least, make it as quick and as painless as possible.


He continued looking me up and down, and even though his scrutinising gaze lasted only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity.

I glanced up into his eyes once again and although I couldn't see much of his face through his helmet, I could tell from the stern look in his eyes that he was deciding whether or not to kill me.


To this day, I have little idea why Sir decided to spare me, but I remember being truly grateful to him for not splitting me in half like some of the other townsfolk had been.


Without any warning, he yanked my head up by my hair and forced me to stand before spinning me around and forcing my head down.
I heard his blade being sheathed and only a few seconds later, had my wrists yanked behind me and felt rope being roughly wound up around my crossed limbs.

I shook in fear, tears dropping down to the wooden floor as the giant, armour-clad murderer started binding up my hands real tight.
I could hear the creaking from his black leather gloves and breaches. Could hear the sound of his inhaling and exhaling as he roughly worked on restraining my wrists.

"What's...what's gonna happen to me?" I asked, quivering in fear, uncertain as to what kind of fate lay ahead of me.


He said nothing. Instead, he finished knotting the rope real tight around my wrists before grabbing my upper arm and spinning me around.

He quickly clamped a gloved hand around my throat, right under my jaw and squeezed tight.
He could snap my neck in half with little effort, that much I knew for certain.


"One more word and I'm cutting your tongue out." he warned, his deep, low voice and menacing scowl only serving to drive his point home.

Without another word, he spun me back around and put his hand on my head, forcing my gaze back down on the floor.

The rope around my wrists was painfully tight and the knots were pinching my skin.
I tried moving my arms a bit, but the rope was rough and I knew that too much moving around would cause these coils of hemp to dig into my wrists and burn my skin.

With my teacher and teammates dead, I was truly alone.
I'd seen what this killer had done to the poor townsfolk downstairs, I'd heard him cut down the pleading old man in the next room just a few minutes ago.
There was no doubt in my mind that he was capable of cutting my tongue out if I gave him a reason to.
So I decided to keep my head down and hope for the best.
That was all I could do, and looking back on that day, keeping my head down is probably what ended up saving my life.


My wrists were further restrained and I felt the knots being tightened a second time, causing me to bite my lip and suppress a gasp of pain.

I was spun around again, until I stood facing the big, terrifying man in front of me.
Even as rope was roughly being circled and knotted around my neck, I remained perfectly still and quiet.
I made sure to keep my gaze down on the floor.


It's only when the rope lasso was tightened around my neck that I realised what was happening.
I was being collared and leashed.

I remember thinking that he might've been planning to hang me in display at the center of town.
Luckily for me, Sir had something else in mind.


Without even caring to pick my pack up, the soldier led me out of the room and down the stairs of the inn.

The scene on the first floor was grim, to say the least.


It was a bloodbath.

The feeling of pure dread and horror I felt at the time, was simply indescribable. To this day, I still have nightmares about some of the things I saw that night.

There I stood, watching my instructor's lifeless, headless corpse lie on the floor, along with the others that had been brutally slaughtered.


My captor didn't even take the time to look at the bodies that lay sprawled across the dimly lit room.
He just walked across the blood-stained floor, dragging me along by pulling on my improvised leash.


The rope dug into my neck, forcing me to keep up with his quick pace.



Where he was taking me, I had no idea.
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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 2

Postby squirrel » Thu Jan 11, 2018 1:12 am

Very unlike to what you've done so far, but great! Can't wait for the next part :)

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 2

Postby Pup » Thu Jan 11, 2018 10:12 am

Does seem a tad darker than your usual, but still good so far.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 2

Postby randomboy18 » Thu Jan 11, 2018 12:26 pm

Its different from everything i've ever read and i really love it keep going

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 2

Postby Sniffingyoursocks » Thu Jan 11, 2018 2:02 pm

Yeah, darker than usual...and still very promising.

Can‘t wait for more to come.
Like the leashing especially :-)
Obey and say 'Yes Master'.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 3

Postby bondagefreak » Sun Jan 14, 2018 3:14 am

Chapter 3: The Journey

The town streets smelt of smoke and burning ashes.
Several building were caught on fire, no doubt having been purposefully set on flames.

Even as the sun began it's slow rise above the eastern horizon, a heavy pillow of smoke fogged the air above the village.

As we hastily made our way out of the burning town, I had to keep from stumbling on the many corpses and other obstacles that littered the ground. No small feat considering the fact that my hands were tied behind my back and that I could hardly see through my tear-filled eyes.

I was having trouble keeping up with my captor's quick pace, but that didn't stop him from yanking on my improvised leash and grabbing the rope further up, closer to my neck.
With his newfound grip on my leash, I had even less slack than before and none of the choking noises or coughs I was forced to emit proved a deterrent against his harsh manner.


I noticed several dozen armoured men, other soldiers, like the one who'd captured me, fleeing the area and making for the forest on the south side of town.
No doubt these troops had an encampment somewhere in the area, a few kilometers outside town.
Who these men were or why they'd attacked and burned Spandelyion to the ground, was a complete mystery to me.


Even though it was dark and we were walking much faster than I was used to, the many burning buildings behind us lit the area enough for me to note a handful of other villagers being dragged away into the woods where I was being led.
Most of them appeared to be women, but I saw at least two other men.
It looked as though these troops had taken other captives, and although it didn't help my situation in the slightest, the idea that I wasn't alone gave me a small glimmer of hope.
Hopefully the other townsfolk and myself would find some way to band together and escape.





What seemed like hours passed and still, we were walking south.

The sun was up now, but the sky was grey and heavily clouded over.
The gloomy weather matched the broken spirits of the several townspeople that had been taken, including my own.

The armoured men were walking much closer to each other now, in a sort of single-file formation. Our captors were clearly heading south with a purpose. No doubt they had a base of operations or an encampment up ahead.


Hopefully we'd arrive soon.
My legs were beginning to tire and my mouth and throat felt parched and dry.

None of us dared complain after a rather brutal example had been made out of one of the captives.
The entire company had been halted, so that we could all watch one of the captives get whipped almost twenty times, because one his fellow villagers had trouble keeping up. We were warned, that each time one of us slowed down, one of our fellow captives would be whipped or brutalised at random.
Myself and the dozen or so villagers that been spared, kept our heads down and our tails tucked in, so-to-speak.
These men were harsh and their methods were effective.
Any rebellious spirit that remained within us had been crushed after the public beating our fellow prisoner had received.



Even with my head hung low and most of my energy focused on keeping one foot ahead of the other to avoid tripping, it became clear to me that whoever my captor was, he held some importance in these ranks.
There were at least sixty armed men leading us south and my captor and I were walking almost at the front of the line.

Several times, soldiers at the back of the formation would come running up to my captor and partake in a brief exchange of words before falling back at the end of the file. One of the men who had taken up point, also appeared to be coordinating with my captor every now and then.
It was almost as though they were reporting to him.


None of the other prisoners seemed as curious as I was about these men and why they'd attacked.
Even though I didn't get to ask any questions, my fellow prisoners seemed to already know who these men were and what fate awaited us.
The look on their faces hardly gave me the confidence I was looking for.
Their eyes spoke of doom and a cruel demise.



So lost I was in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed our formation had come to sudden a halt...at least, not until it was too late.

I ended up crashing face first right into my captor's broad back.


I nearly fell to the ground after the impact and remember feeling slightly disoriented.
My eyes shot wide open in terror as the towering soldier turned around to face me.

He was huge.
Easily a full head taller than me and probably weighing twice my weight.
Even with his dark amour set on, I couldn't help but notice how broad his shoulders were and how thick his arms looked.

I felt the eyes of several soldiers on me and heard at least two of the villagers gasp as they watched the scene unfold, probably expecting me to be cut down right then and there.

My towering captor looked down at me through his helmet and gave me a harsh, yet somewhat quizzical look.
I'm not sure whether it was my imagination or not, but I could almost swear he was wearing an ever so slightly amused expression under there.

His glare was so heavy that after merely a second of it, I had to avert my eyes and stare at the ground.
Even though the threat of death should have outweighed anything else in my mind, I only remember feeling completely embarrassed and stupid.




The soldiers around us began talking and from the sight of everyone sitting down on the grassy ground, I could tell we were halting to take a much needed break.
Obviously it wasn't for our sake.
These men probably didn't care if one of us collapsed from exhaustion. But even if this break wasn't for my benefit, I'd take it.


"On the ground." my captor ordered, closing the gap between us by taking a step forward and roughly grabbing the rope around my neck.
A big, leather-clad hand came down on top of my head and pushed me down into a sitting position on the ground.

My captor sat down in front of me, on a large rock that appeared to be sticking out of the ground.
He kept a tight grip on my leash, even as he reached into his pack for a map and some other trinkets.

I stared at his large, muddy boots for a moment, only to be distracted by the sounds and noises around me.

Most of the soldiers were taking their helmets off, cleaning their blades, eating rations and drinking from their canteens.
The prisoners were forced to kneel on the ground and weren't given anything to eat or drink.

One of the villagers, a man in his late fifties, was being spat on by four soldiers and two of the younger captive women at the back of the line were apparently being harassed by an even larger group of men.

The rest of us were powerless to do anything about it and if my captor had any qualms about what was going on, he certainly didn't show it.
He appeared too engrossed in his map and tools to care about me or the brutish behaviour of his troops.


Only when I watched the soldiers drinking from their canteens and purposefully wasting water in front of us did I realise how thirsty and weak I felt. From the look of the other townsfolk, especially the ones that had injuries, I knew that not all of us would survive the journey.

Considering the hopeless expressions displayed on the faces of my fellow captives, maybe dying from exhaustion on these rocky plains was a better fate than what awaited the rest of us.
Only time would tell.



I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so far, even though it's a little different from my other material.
Looking forward to reading more of your reviews
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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 3

Postby Sniffingyoursocks » Mon Jan 15, 2018 1:20 am

Good new chapter - not very much action telling us what predicament the poor prisoners is awaiting, but a story building one - something that probably nobody does as good as you, Sir.

I hope you‘ll continue that one for a bit. I pretty much like it. Master.
Obey and say 'Yes Master'.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 4

Postby bondagefreak » Tue Jan 16, 2018 12:45 am

Chapter 4: The Attack


My lingering thoughts were interrupted when three foot soldiers made their way up the line and sat in a half circle, next to my captor.
It didn't take a particularly sharp mind to understand that these men held some importance in these ranks.
They were probably lieutenants or something close to that.

From their speech, I understood that the journey ahead wouldn't be that long, but that the upcoming terrain would prove a little more difficult to hike than the rocky plains we were currently journeying through.

None of the men sitting around me paid me any attention.
Their focus was on their leader and his map. They were obviously deciding which route was the safest.
It was almost as though they were fearing an attack...maybe some form of reprisal from one of the city-states near Spandelyion.
It made sense. Someone MUST have made it out alive and the neighbouring authorities were surely aware of the town's untimely demise by now.



After a few minutes of planning, the three men got up and made their way back into the line to give my captor some privacy.

From what I could tell, he was the only one of these men sitting alone and no one appeared to be bothering him.
That was pretty much all I needed to see to understand that he was the ranking officer, or at least one of the troop leaders.
Everyone else sat in pairs or groups of three or more, and none of the other soldiers appeared to be worrying about the rest of the journey.


My captor quickly rolled his map up and placed his tools back into his small pack before taking his canteen out and grabbing what appeared to be a small loaf of bread from inside his leather bag.
Keeping my eyes to the ground, I tentatively looked up to see him taking his helmet off and place it next to him, on the large boulder he was sitting on.

My heart skipped a beat and I felt my face flush at the sight of his exposed face.



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His features were pleasing to say the least.
From his sharp jawline and his strong nose, to his full lips and striking green eyes, this was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men I had ever laid eyes upon.


I must've been staring at his face for too long, 'cause his harsh, green eyes quickly shot down towards me.

My eyes shot wide open in shock as I realised I'd been staring up rather stupidly at his face.
I silently cursed myself and quickly lowered my head to avoid his piercing glare.

He had a dangerous, almost feral look about him.
The blue war paint that covered his brow and forehead did little to smoothen his features, but even without it, he still looked rather fierce.



I spend the next few minutes starring at his large boots and keeping my head lowered in submission.

Every now and then I'd glance upward long enough to catch a glimpse of him eating, drinking and staring out into the open wilderness.
He looked bitter and obviously carried a great burden of some sort.
I couldn't tell what it was, but his manner reminded me of a grieving person.

It didn't matter...
Whatever he'd lost, or whatever he was feeling, he was still a murderous killer.
I had to remember that.

He must've been at least a decade and a half older than me, placing him well into his mid, if not late, thirties.
If he had sired me at the age of sixteen or seventeen, he would've been old enough to be my father, I noted.

My mind couldn't quite come to terms with that fact that I had been spared. I couldn't help but wonder what this man had in mind for me when he decided to spare my life and take me prisoner.


I must've been a pitiful sight indeed, 'cause only a few minutes into my musings, a piece of bread landed on the floor, between my captor's big, muddy boots.
I looked up questioningly, wondering if it had been dropped by accident.


The moment my eyes shot upwards, I was met with the same icy glare I'd become accustomed to.
Was he always angry, I wondered.


"Eat." he ordered, spinning his right around to lengthen my leash and allow me a bit of slack.

I eyed the half-eaten piece of bread on the ground and quickly looked up again to see the unchanged set of green eyes staring back at me.
Without any afterthought, I managed to lie down on the ground and twist myself enough to reach the loaf with my mouth.

My hands were still bound painfully tight behind my back, but my angry captor didn't same to care.

Normally, I would've never degraded myself by eating like this, but right now, my hunger and desire to survive overrode any ounce of dignity I had left.


For whatever reason, I was being fed while the other captives were given nothing.

My captor just sat there, staring out into the wilderness, occasionally looking down at me...not at all bothered by the fact that a bound and collared twenty year old boy was lying on the ground between his feet.


The moment I finished eating, I felt him tugging on my collar, forcing me to scoot up and use one of my elbows to prop myself off the ground a little.

My leash was temporarily given some slack, but I quickly found myself getting my hair yanked up by a large, gloved hand.
I winced slightly at the harshness of his touch, but quickly quieted down upon seeing the canteen approach my lips.

My head was yanked backwards a little and the opening of the canteen was quickly inserted into my mouth, allowing me to gulp down the small amount of water that was left inside it.


It wasn't much, but it was enough to fill my mouth up twice...which was quite a bit more than what the other prisoners were getting.


Without a word, the soldier let my hair go and pushed my head back to the ground before closing his canteen and placing it back into his pack.
I didn't know whether to feel guilty or privileged about the way I was being treated. I'd done nothing to deserve better treatment than any of the other captives.
True, I'd remained quiet and obedient so far, but so had most of the others.




Just as some of the troops started to get up and put their helmets and packs back on, the thunderous roar of heavy hooves and panicked gasps echoed across the area.

My helmed captor quickly got up and unsheathed his large broadsword before barking a few orders.

It was too late though.
From seemingly out of nowhere, several dozen horsemen came out of the woods and tore into the unprepared troops, trampling soldiers and captives alike in a wave of chaos.


These men were probably sent by one of the neighboring kingdoms, to strike and eliminate the forces that had raided Spandelyion.

From the elated gasps of my fellow prisoners, I could tell they were expecting some sort of salvation.
It was obvious though, that these horsemen weren't as interested in liberating us as much eliminating the troops that were holding us captive.
We just happened to be in the way and something told me I'd be fortunate indeed to survive this attack.


Having no other option, I quickly dropped flat to the ground and tried to block out the sound of death and combat that surrounded me.
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wataru14
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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 4

Postby wataru14 » Tue Jan 16, 2018 2:57 pm

This is shaping up to be a terrific story! Can't wait for more.

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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 4

Postby Kidnapable82 » Tue Jan 16, 2018 11:39 pm

This is totally not my thing....until I just saw the magic word "gloved" and I picture myself being the one taken away by bondagefreak, then....well...it's now my thing. ;) :D
This site is for fun. It is not a Spelling Bee. If you get off pointing out the smallest errors, we are not compatible for any type of fun.

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bondagefreak
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Re: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER: TAKEN (M/M) PG-17 *CHAPTER 4

Postby bondagefreak » Thu Jan 18, 2018 12:18 am

wataru14 wrote:This is shaping up to be a terrific story! Can't wait for more.


Thanks for the comment my friend!
I must admit, it was a pleasant surprise seeing you post here. I think this is the first time you review one of my stories.

Glad you're enjoying this.
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