Prisoner for life (M/M -F/M)

[Frenchprince]

"hands behind your back!"
Immediately I complied, immediately feeling the handcuffs close on my wrists he then handcuffed my ankles. The man then pinned me against his car. I then had my eyes firmly blindfolded and then my mouth gagged. The man wrapped a newspaper around my head and secured it with several turns of tape. A strong smell of fresh ink and complete blackness had become my reality. "From now on, my little Frenchman, you are my prisoner!" I was then lying in what I believe to be the trunk of his car which he closed violently. When I felt that the vehicle had started to start I realized that my fantasy was coming true. Totally at the mercy, hands cuffed behind my back and this thick and fresh newspaper wrapping my face leaving me only a strong smell of petroleum ink, I felt rising in me an excitement hard to suppress and a rush of adrenaline.

I was 22 and as far back as I can remember I always fantasized about being tied up and held prisoner by someone. This fantasy had accompanied me throughout my life without anyone around me, neither family nor my girlfriends knowing about it. And then by dint of hanging out on forums I had decided to get in touch with masters and mistresses. I communicated regularly with a Swiss couple in their mid-fifties on bondage topics. This man and this woman had a mansion for this purpose filled with basements, dungeons and various cages. The woman often call me "my little French" when she speaks to me. The husband told me that his pleasure lay in the capture and heavy bondage of his prisoners whether ropes or chains, mummification and others. His wife considered herself the mistress of the place, inflicting various treatments on her prisoners. We ended up agreeing on a week's imprisonment at the Manor. Since I was eighteen I had left my province to study in Paris and when it was the summer holidays my ticket for Geneva was in my pocket. During the train journey I went from anxiety to excitement while wondering what I was getting into.

The car had stopped. In complete darkness I heard the man come down and slam the door. He opened the trunk. I now felt the summer heat making the smell of the newspaper wrapped around my head unbearable. I was suddenly grabbed and pulled by my sweatshirt and taken out by the man
"Get up! Stand up prisoner!" Mmph mmph!! (I couldn't speak)
"Shut up prisoner!!!"

I was then firmly seized by the collar and pulled forward. The man was leading me blindly, I was trying not to fall, my handcuffed ankles were tripping me up which pissed off the man. He suddenly stopped our walk, I heard him open what seemed to me to be a gate I was then dragged still by the collar continued to walk totally restricted hands and feet, mute because of the gag blinded by the blindfold and the newspaper whose smell invaded my nostrils, staggering constantly. We stopped suddenly, the man seemed to be addressing other people: "We have a new resident, he's a Frenchie , take him to the basement, put him in his cell, take off his clothes and chain him securely! Madame will come and see him when it's done and leave him with his particular mask" the tone seemed ironic .

Suddenly I was gripped on either side by what seemed like huge arms. "Mmph mmph?!"

The man pressed my face wrapped in newsaper with his hand: "That's what you wanted right? It's time for you to become a real prisoner! Here the discipline is strict and the bondage is real."

"You can take the prisoner away "

I was dragged violently by these big arms in a fast way, my feet dragging on the ground, I already felt like a prisoner no longer controlling anything, my heart was beating very hard and my cock was getting very hard. We therefore left on what seemed to be a muddy ground then I heard the sound of a key opening a door. My captors then dragged me down what appears to be a hallway (I must have been in the mansion.) before opening a door that led to a staircase. I was almost carried by the two guards. They stopped in front of a door which they opened...

It had been maybe an hour since they had installed me in what was supposed to be my cell. When they had undressed me, exchanged my handcuffs with chains, I was chained naked on a bed, my head still wrapped in newsaper . Alone in my thoughts I kept telling myself that it was all just a game. Completely at the mercy of my captors the anxiety and the adrenaline only kept rising.

I heard the key in the lock of my cell, someone entered: "I see that my little Frenchman is finally in his place" it was a woman's voice. The tone was stern and ironic. She walked over to my bed hearing the sound of her footsteps. Then I felt a gloved hand take my already trained sex. She began to masturbate me slowly: "Stay hard but don't spit or you will be punished! Here there are several captives of different nationalities. Me and my husband are collectors. You will be my French prisoner! . And know that you are not here for a week! We are a network of rich jailers from Switzerland, Luxembourg or Liechtenstein, we sometimes exchange our prisoners. So expect to travel in a box.

With your little head of prince you could be worth a good rental price. You can forget your country it's not a game, our prisoners are prisoners for life!!!" "Mmmph?!!! Mmmph!!" I protested without being able to do so, I felt betrayed, in danger, why did I make this stupid trip.

_ "This is not a conversation prisoner! You become soft stay hard my boy, You are my prisoner. There is no other reality than this, accept your new life you will have no other! !” I was revolted and before I could express the slightest grunt I heard the door slam!

End of chapter 1.

[Xtc]

Welcome to the League of TUGs Writers.

[Frenchprince]

Welcome to the League of TUGs Writers.

Thanks

[Stormee]

I am curious to know where this going. I can't wait to see more of our frenchie boy protagonist.

[Frenchprince]

I am curious to know where this going. I can't wait to see more of our frenchie boy protagonist.

Thanks . it will go far. its new owners want it to embody the word "prisoner". This young French prisoner will know all the ways of heavy bondage.

[Ak610]

"Behind your back!"
Immediately I complied, immediately feeling the handcuffs close on my wrists he then handcuffed my ankles. The man then pinned me against his car. I then had my eyes firmly blindfolded and then my mouth gagged. The man wrapped a newspaper around my head and secured it with several turns of tape. A strong smell of fresh ink and complete blackness had become my reality. "From now on, my little Frenchman, you are my prisoner!" I was then lying in what I believe to be the trunk of his car which he closed violently. When I felt that the vehicle had started to start I realized that my fantasy was coming true. Totally at the mercy, hands cuffed behind my back and this thick and fresh newspaper wrapping my face leaving me only a strong smell of petroleum ink, I felt rising in me an excitement hard to suppress and a rush of adrenaline.

I was 22 and as far back as I can remember I always fantasized about being tied up and held prisoner by someone. This fantasy had accompanied me throughout my life without anyone around me, neither family nor my girlfriends knowing about it. And then by dint of hanging out on forums I had decided to get in touch with masters and mistresses. I communicated regularly with a Swiss couple in their mid-fifties on bondage topics. This man and this woman had a mansion for this purpose filled with basements, dungeons and various cages. The woman often call me "my little French" when she speaks to me. The husband told me that his pleasure lay in the capture and heavy bondage of his prisoners whether ropes or chains, mummification and others. His wife considered herself the mistress of the place, inflicting various treatments on her prisoners. We ended up agreeing on a week's imprisonment at the Manor. Since I was eighteen I had left my province to study in Paris and when it was the summer holidays my ticket for Geneva was in my pocket. During the train journey I went from anxiety to excitement while wondering what I was getting into.

The car had stopped. In complete darkness I heard the man come down and slam the door. He opened the trunk. I now felt the summer heat making the smell of the newspaper wrapped around my head unbearable. I was suddenly grabbed and pulled by my sweatshirt and taken out by the man
"Get up! Stand up prisoner!" Mmph mmph!! (I couldn't speak)
"Shut up prisoner!!!"

I was then firmly seized by the collar and pulled forward. The man was leading me blindly, I was trying not to fall, my handcuffed ankles were tripping me up which pissed off the man. He suddenly stopped our walk, I heard him open what seemed to me to be a gate I was then dragged still by the collar continued to walk totally restricted hands and feet, mute because of the gag blinded by the blindfold and the newspaper whose smell invaded my nostrils, staggering constantly. We stopped suddenly, the man seemed to be addressing other people: "We have a new resident, he's a Frenchie , take him to the basement, put him in his cell, take off his clothes and chain him securely! Madame will come and see him when it's done and leave him his particular mask" the tone seemed ironic Suddenly I was gripped on either side by what seemed like huge arms. "Mmph mmph?!"

The man pressed my face wrapped in newsaper with his hand: "That's what you wanted right? It's time for you to become a real prisoner! Here the discipline is strict and the bondage is real. You can take the prisoner away " I was dragged violently by these big arms in a fast way, my feet dragging on the ground, I already felt like a prisoner no longer controlling anything, my heart was beating very hard and my cock was getting very hard. We therefore left on what seemed to be a muddy ground then I heard the sound of a key opening a door. My captors then dragged me down what appears to be a hallway (I must have been in the mansion.) before opening a door that led to a staircase. I was almost carried by the two guards. They stopped in front of a door which they opened... It had been maybe an hour since they had installed me in what was supposed to be my cell. When they had undressed me, exchanged my handcuffs with chains, I was chained naked on a bed, my head still wrapped in newsaper . Alone in my thoughts I kept telling myself that it was all just a game. Completely at the mercy of my captors the anxiety and the adrenaline only kept rising.

I heard the key in the lock of my cell, someone entered: "I see that my little Frenchman is finally in his place" it was a woman's voice. The tone was stern and ironic. She walked over to my bed hearing the sound of her footsteps. Then I felt a gloved hand take my already trained sex. She began to masturbate me slowly: "Stay hard but don't spit or you will be punished! Here there are several captives of different nationalities. Me and my husband are collectors. You will be my French prisoner! You are the youngest prisoner in the world. domain and know that you are not here for a week! We are a network of rich jailers from Switzerland, Luxembourg or Liechtenstein, we sometimes exchange our prisoners. So expect to travel in a box.

With your little head of prince you could be worth a good rental price. You can forget your country it's not a game, our prisoners are prisoners for life!!!" "Mmmph?!!! Mmmph!!" I protested without being able to do so, I felt betrayed, in danger, why did I make this stupid trip.

_ "This is not a conversation prisoner! You become soft stay hard my boy, You are my prisoner. There is no other reality than this, accept your new life you will have no other! !” I was revolted and before I could express the slightest grunt I heard the door slam!

End of chapter 1.

HOT AS HELL!

[Frenchprince]

"Behind your back!"
Immediately I complied, immediately feeling the handcuffs close on my wrists he then handcuffed my ankles. The man then pinned me against his car. I then had my eyes firmly blindfolded and then my mouth gagged. The man wrapped a newspaper around my head and secured it with several turns of tape. A strong smell of fresh ink and complete blackness had become my reality. "From now on, my little Frenchman, you are my prisoner!" I was then lying in what I believe to be the trunk of his car which he closed violently. When I felt that the vehicle had started to start I realized that my fantasy was coming true. Totally at the mercy, hands cuffed behind my back and this thick and fresh newspaper wrapping my face leaving me only a strong smell of petroleum ink, I felt rising in me an excitement hard to suppress and a rush of adrenaline.

I was 22 and as far back as I can remember I always fantasized about being tied up and held prisoner by someone. This fantasy had accompanied me throughout my life without anyone around me, neither family nor my girlfriends knowing about it. And then by dint of hanging out on forums I had decided to get in touch with masters and mistresses. I communicated regularly with a Swiss couple in their mid-fifties on bondage topics. This man and this woman had a mansion for this purpose filled with basements, dungeons and various cages. The woman often call me "my little French" when she speaks to me. The husband told me that his pleasure lay in the capture and heavy bondage of his prisoners whether ropes or chains, mummification and others. His wife considered herself the mistress of the place, inflicting various treatments on her prisoners. We ended up agreeing on a week's imprisonment at the Manor. Since I was eighteen I had left my province to study in Paris and when it was the summer holidays my ticket for Geneva was in my pocket. During the train journey I went from anxiety to excitement while wondering what I was getting into.

The car had stopped. In complete darkness I heard the man come down and slam the door. He opened the trunk. I now felt the summer heat making the smell of the newspaper wrapped around my head unbearable. I was suddenly grabbed and pulled by my sweatshirt and taken out by the man
"Get up! Stand up prisoner!" Mmph mmph!! (I couldn't speak)
"Shut up prisoner!!!"

I was then firmly seized by the collar and pulled forward. The man was leading me blindly, I was trying not to fall, my handcuffed ankles were tripping me up which pissed off the man. He suddenly stopped our walk, I heard him open what seemed to me to be a gate I was then dragged still by the collar continued to walk totally restricted hands and feet, mute because of the gag blinded by the blindfold and the newspaper whose smell invaded my nostrils, staggering constantly. We stopped suddenly, the man seemed to be addressing other people: "We have a new resident, he's a Frenchie , take him to the basement, put him in his cell, take off his clothes and chain him securely! Madame will come and see him when it's done and leave him his particular mask" the tone seemed ironic Suddenly I was gripped on either side by what seemed like huge arms. "Mmph mmph?!"

The man pressed my face wrapped in newsaper with his hand: "That's what you wanted right? It's time for you to become a real prisoner! Here the discipline is strict and the bondage is real. You can take the prisoner away " I was dragged violently by these big arms in a fast way, my feet dragging on the ground, I already felt like a prisoner no longer controlling anything, my heart was beating very hard and my cock was getting very hard. We therefore left on what seemed to be a muddy ground then I heard the sound of a key opening a door. My captors then dragged me down what appears to be a hallway (I must have been in the mansion.) before opening a door that led to a staircase. I was almost carried by the two guards. They stopped in front of a door which they opened... It had been maybe an hour since they had installed me in what was supposed to be my cell. When they had undressed me, exchanged my handcuffs with chains, I was chained naked on a bed, my head still wrapped in newsaper . Alone in my thoughts I kept telling myself that it was all just a game. Completely at the mercy of my captors the anxiety and the adrenaline only kept rising.

I heard the key in the lock of my cell, someone entered: "I see that my little Frenchman is finally in his place" it was a woman's voice. The tone was stern and ironic. She walked over to my bed hearing the sound of her footsteps. Then I felt a gloved hand take my already trained sex. She began to masturbate me slowly: "Stay hard but don't spit or you will be punished! Here there are several captives of different nationalities. Me and my husband are collectors. You will be my French prisoner! You are the youngest prisoner in the world. domain and know that you are not here for a week! We are a network of rich jailers from Switzerland, Luxembourg or Liechtenstein, we sometimes exchange our prisoners. So expect to travel in a box.

With your little head of prince you could be worth a good rental price. You can forget your country it's not a game, our prisoners are prisoners for life!!!" "Mmmph?!!! Mmmph!!" I protested without being able to do so, I felt betrayed, in danger, why did I make this stupid trip.

_ "This is not a conversation prisoner! You become soft stay hard my boy, You are my prisoner. There is no other reality than this, accept your new life you will have no other! !” I was revolted and before I could express the slightest grunt I heard the door slam!

End of chapter 1.

HOT AS HELL!

Thanks

[Frenchprince]

I don't remember when I managed to sleep. But in the meantime the employees of my captors had removed the newspaper taped to my head and left the blindfold on my eyes and had fed me with a tube in which flowed a creamy liquid with strawberry flavor. Then they then gagged me again. This food must surely contain drugs because it had anesthetized my mind I had become unable to think and I ended up falling asleep. When I regained consciousness I opened my eyes I no longer had a blindfold. But I was still chained to a bed reminding me that what happened the night before was real. My cell look like a dark dungeon.


I was chained in such a way that I couldn't move just watch. A camera in the corner of the room was aimed at me. The door to my cell looked armored. I had no window. The cold of the chains covered my naked body which was paralyzed. Oh my God I'm being held prisoner the anguish the anxiety and the sadness was starting to invade my thoughts. My family, my friends, my wife, I saw them in my head. I will never see them again because of a fantasy I wanted to do.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. Despite this I had the tingling of my morning erection that bother me. Amazing because for years when I wake up in the morning I imagine myself tied up and today I really am.


Suddenly a key sound alerted my warning signals. The door opened. The I saw the man. Tall, with a vicious look, long hair and a certain resemblance to the character of Sully from the series "DR Quinn medecin woman" dressed in a 3/4 in leather, leather pants and boots so waxed that you can see yourself inside.

He was accompanied by two other hooded and very sturdy men dressed in black leather police uniforms carrying piles of newspapers.

"Apparently our French prisoner is wide awake." (The tone was very snide)

I tried to scream looking at him with hatred:
"Mmmffff!!! Mmmmmmmffff!!!!"

"Are you angry, prisoner? Yet your dick doesn't agree with you..."
(It is true that my erection betrayed me)

"As you see I brought a pile of daily newspapers, I have a newspaper fetish and I like to mummify my captives with my newspapers, and anyway you are my prisoner, my property you do not have your word to say"

The man grabbed a newspaper, approached me, stood on top of me and wrapped my head in the newspaper, then his employees began to apply all the newspapers to my body. Even my penis was rolled up. The smell was even stronger than the day before. The man lay down on my chained body covered with newspapers and rubbed himself on top of me. He moaned with pleasure pressing his head on mine which was mummified.

"You are mine, you are my prisoner"

Despite this uncomfortable and constrained situation, I felt pleasure. I blame myself for this. Suddenly he stood up.

"You are going to stay in my newspapers s for a few hours and then you will be taken to your mistress with a fellow prisoner. We are going to have fun, I am watching you through the camera, every moment of your intimacy belongs to me. Don't forget you are prisoner."

The door slammed violently. I was again in the dark.

End of chapter 2.

[Ak610]

I don't remember when I managed to sleep. But in the meantime the employees of my captors had removed the newspaper taped to my head and left the blindfold on my eyes and had fed me with a tube in which flowed a creamy liquid with strawberry flavor. Then they then gagged me again. This food must surely contain drugs because it had anesthetized my mind I had become unable to think and I ended up falling asleep. When I regained consciousness I opened my eyes I no longer had a blindfold. But I was still chained to a bed reminding me that what happened the night before was real. My cell look like a dark dungeon.


I was chained in such a way that I couldn't move just watch. A camera in the corner of the room was aimed at me. The door to my cell looked armored. I had no window. The cold of the chains covered my naked body which was paralyzed. Oh my God I'm being held prisoner the anguish the anxiety and the sadness was starting to invade my thoughts. My family, my friends, my wife, I saw them in my head. I will never see them again because of a fantasy I wanted to do.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. Despite this I had the tingling of my morning erection that bother me. Amazing because for years when I wake up in the morning I imagine myself tied up and today I really am.


Suddenly a key sound alerted my warning signals. The door opened. The I saw the man. Tall, with a vicious look, long hair and a certain resemblance to the character of Sully from the series "DR Quinn medecin woman" dressed in a 3/4 in leather, leather pants and boots so waxed that you can see yourself inside.

He was accompanied by two other hooded and very sturdy men dressed in black leather police uniforms carrying piles of newspapers.

"Apparently our French prisoner is wide awake." (The tone was very snide)

I tried to scream looking at him with hatred:
"Mmmffff!!! Mmmmmmmffff!!!!"

"Are you angry, prisoner? Yet your dick doesn't agree with you..."
(It is true that my erection betrayed me)

"As you see I brought a pile of daily newspapers, I have a newspaper fetish and I like to mummify my captives with my newspapers, and anyway you are my prisoner, my property you do not have your word to say"

The man grabbed a newspaper, approached me, stood on top of me and wrapped my head in the newspaper, then his employees began to apply all the newspapers to my body. Even my penis was rolled up. The smell was even stronger than the day before. The man lay down on my chained body covered with newspapers and rubbed himself on top of me. He moaned with pleasure pressing his head on mine which was mummified.

"You are mine, you are my prisoner"

Despite this uncomfortable and constrained situation, I felt pleasure. I blame myself for this. Suddenly he stood up.

"You are going to stay in my newspapers s for a few hours and then you will be taken to your mistress with a fellow prisoner. We are going to have fun, I am watching you through the camera, every moment of your intimacy belongs to me. Don't forget you are prisoner."

The door slammed violently. I was again in the dark.

End of chapter 2.

Awesome again

[Frenchprince]

Chapter 3:

As I lay, chained and wrapped in newspapers in my dark cell, the hours seemed to pass slowly, each minute amplifying my feelings of isolation and despair. The suffocating sensation of the newspapers wrapped around me constantly reminded me of my condition as a prisoner, a helpless captive at the hands of my ruthless captors.

Moments of lucidity were rare, lost in a sea of confusion and despair. The drugs injected into my food seemed to keep my mind in a constant state of torpor, depriving me of any ability to think or plan an escape. The only consolation was that, even in my darkest dreams, a glimmer of hope persisted, a burning desire to regain my freedom and return home.

Muffled footsteps in the corridor pulled me from my stupor. My heart hammered in my chest as I wondered who would come now. Were they my captors coming to torture me further, or perhaps someone else, someone who might be an ally in my struggle for freedom?

The door to my cell creaked open with a familiar squeak, revealing the massive silhouette of the guard from earlier, accompanied by two other men dressed in black. Their presence in my dark cell cast a veil of dread over my already tormented mind.

"The time has come, French prisoner," growled the guard, his gravelly voice filling the room with palpable menace. "You will be transferred to your new jailer. Let's hope you're ready for what awaits you."

Without another word, the guards began to release me from my newspaper entanglement, pulling me roughly to my feet and dragging me out of the cell. Each step was a painful reminder of my prisoner status, but I clung to the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this new jailer would be less cruel than the previous one.

We traversed a labyrinth of dark corridors, the guards' footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. I found myself in nervous anticipation, wondering what awaited me at the end of this oppressive journey.

Finally, we arrived at a massive door, guarded by two more armed guards. The main guard knocked three times and the door swung open slowly, revealing a room illuminated by torches, a feminine silhouette standing at its center.

"Ah, our new French prisoner has finally arrived," declared the woman in a cold, ruthless voice. "Welcome to my domain, prisoner. You belong to me now."

The woman was clad in black leather, her cold gaze piercing through the room. Behind her, stacks of newspapers were piled, an obvious fetish for bondage and newspaper fetish.

A shiver of excitement mixed with fear ran down my spine as I realized that my new jailer was as depraved as the previous one, if not more so. My fate seemed sealed in the pages of the newspapers strewn across the floor of my new cell, ready to be written by cruel and ruthless hands.

End of Chapter 3.

[Frenchprince]

I leave it up to authors more inspired than me to continue this story if they feel like it.