Dirty Diaries: A Darkly Erotic Novel (10 page)

Another week of nothing special going on,
other than the room upstairs getting renovated.  I haven't seen it yet, but
workers have been going up there all week and Charles said that things are
progressing well, should be ready in a couple of days.  In the meantime,
despite the fact that the goal is to get me out of the trucks for the most
part, that's the only place I've had available to me so all of my encounters
this week have been there. 

The collar has stopped bugging me for the
most part, and word seems to be getting around about what it means.  Charles
was right, though.  With Frank, I always had to rely on him to tell me that a
guy wanted my services and to set it all up.  Now, guys seek me out.  Charles
told me that people know that anything beyond the norm would cost extra, and
any time anything like that happened I should let him know and he would
collect.  Hard to say what crosses the line, though.  I suppose straight oral,
anal or vaginal sex is normal.  Lately, though, other things have been becoming
more normal and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.

There have been a few instances where guys
have been pulling on my collar as we fuck, usually when they're doing me doggy
style.  It ends up choking me a bit.  The first time I really didn't like it
and pushed the guy away, making him stop.  Since then, though, guys have been
doing it more and more and I've noticed that while I am unable to breath, the
sexual sensations seem a bit heightened.  I'm not saying I want it to continue
or would seek this out, not yet anyway, but it is something that has gotten my
attention.  Problem is that I'm usually scared the guy will choke me so hard
that I pass out and he'll kill me or something, so it keeps me from completely
surrendering to the experience and being able to enjoy it fully.

At any rate, I have to talk to Charles
about whether that constitutes something special  and he can charge more for it. 
I'm all for those bonus dollars he promised me.

Okay, weird shit starting to go down.  I'm
really confused and not sure what I'm going to do.  Early in the week Charles
came to get me, telling me that the upstairs renovations were finished and he
wanted to show me around.

So I followed him upstairs.  The stairway
itself was, for the most part the same, although it seemed as though they
refinished the wood stairs and painted the walls.  When we got to the door, I
could see it was new.  It looked heavier, and had a big lock on it.  The
previous door did have a little privacy lock that customers could turn so that
no one else would come into the shower area when they were there, but it wasn't
really meant to keep anyone out that really wanted to get in.  This new one
looked like it meant business.

Charles pulled out a key and unlocked it. 
He walked through and I followed.  The first thing I noticed was that the room
seemed a lot bigger.  They had opened up a wall at the far end and almost doubled
the size of the change room area.  It wasn't very big before, so it wasn't like
it was massive now, but it was big enough that I saw they had added a small
bed.  That was a welcome addition, since I was tired of always lying on the
floor in this dirty room.  Oddly, though, the floor was now covered in a thin
industrial carpet.  A strange choice for a locker room. 

The closet that Frank had put the glory
hole in was now closed off, at least from the angle we were facing as we came
in.  It use to be that the door to it was visible right when you walked in, but
now it was just a wall.  I could tell it wasn't removed completely, though, as
the wall was clearly further out then the rest of the room, but it looked like
maybe the door had been moved around to the other side where I couldn't see it
without following it around the corner.

The room to the shower was still wide
open, and I could see that it had been opened up as well and made into a more
proper single shower with new tiles.  Lockers no longer ran along the wall
since the room was clearly more single use now, and had the big lock on the
main door.

Charles walked around the corner of the
closet and I followed him.  That's when my jaw dropped.

"What the fuck is that?" I
asked.  The entire side of what had been the closet before was now opened up,
and it looked like the walls had been hardened with some sort of concrete.  The
floor was covered by the same thin grey carpet.  But what had shocked me was
that this entire side was closed over by thick iron bars.  The closet had been
converted into a cage.  There was a hinged door at the bottom that had a lock
on it and looked like it was big enough for a large dog to move in and out
through.

"A cage," Charles responded
simply.

"I can see that," I said. 
"Do you have a dog or something?"

"No, it's not for a dog.  It's for
you."

"What.  The.  Fuck."  I turned
to look at him, my eyes straining against their sockets, barely contained from
popping right out.  I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

"Right.  Well, as we discussed, there
is a market for the more extreme stuff that people will pay top dollar for.  In
fact, limiting things to just truckers is a pretty poor business model on its
own.  I'm part of a... group... that are into more extreme sexual... kinks. 
I've spoken to my group and verified that there are plenty of people willing to
pay a lot of money for things that are hard to find elsewhere.  If you're
willing to go outside your norm, perhaps a bit outside your comfort zone, then
you and I can make quite a bit of money."

I continued to stare at him, the words
barely registered after he said that the cage was for me.  I let them sink in a
bit, hearing the echo of his words in my head and trying to make sense of
them.  "What the hell are you talking about?  You want to lock me in a
cage?  That's fucked up.  No fucking way.  It looks like it was built for a
dog."

Charles bent down to the lock on the cage,
removing another key from his pocket, and opened the door as he spoke. 
"Actually, it was built for a dog.  I wasn't going to tell the workers
what we would really be doing here.  As stupid as Frank was, he at least knew
how to be discrete.  He was careful who he told about you, and so am I.  But I
had to have this place built, so I ordered a cage that was big enough for a
kennel and a standard door.  This was the biggest size available.  The people
who put it together were just told that I had a big Doberman that I used for
protection and this would be where he slept."

"Well you may as well get one then,
I'd hate to see that you wasted your money.  But I'm not getting in
there," I said flatly.

"There are people," Charles
said, "that will pay big bucks to simply believe that they have a slave at
their disposal.   You're not going to really be doing anything different than
what you've already been doing.  Think of it simply as a change of venue."

I looked at him doubtfully.

"I'm asking you to give it a try. 
Just crawl in there and see for yourself that it's not so bad.  You only have
to crawl to get in and out, once you're inside you can stand up."

Charles stepped forward and put the back
of his hand against my cheek, giving me a little caress as I glared at him. 
"You were the pioneer here and your relationships with some of the men
would be sorely missed.  But make no mistake.  This is the future of this
establishment.  I'm confident that this is where a lot of money is going to be
made, and if you aren't willing to go along with this I'm sure it won't take me
too long to find someone else who will."

So now he was threatening me.  If I didn't
go along with this, I was out of work.  What kind of group was he part of,
anyway? 

The door to the cage was open, and Charles
motioned with his head one more time.  He wasn't smiling anymore.  He was
right, of course.  What the fuck does it even matter anymore?  I've done more
dirty and degrading things in this place than I ever thought possible, how much
different is this?  If it turned some guy's crank to see me locked up before he
fucked me, and he was willing to pay big bucks for it, why should I care?

I took a deep breath and shot one last
frown at Charles, annoyed that he had set all this up.  Annoyed that he thought
it was necessary in order to make more money.  And annoyed that I had ever thought
he'd be any better than Frank.  I dropped down to my hands and knees and
crawled into the cage. 

The carpet underneath was as thin as I
thought, and my knees hurt immediately even after just crawling a few feet
along it.  Once inside, I stood up and turned around just as Charles was
closing the cage door and replacing the lock.

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

"I'll be back in a while," he
said, turning to leave.  "Get use to it in there."

"Let me out!" I yelled, but I
heard him close the big door behind as he left me alone and then I heard the
heavy lock click into place.  What the fuck had I gotten myself in?

It's hard to say how much time I spent in
the cage.  When there are no clocks or no stimuli of any sort, really, time
seems to take on less meaning.  It could have been an hour, could have been
four hours, I really had no idea.  It felt like days though.  I was hungry, and
bored, and a little bit scared. 

Right after Charles had left and I had a
moment to take stock of my situation, I realized that the cage was a bit bigger
than I thought.  From the outside it seemed like you had complete view of the
inside of the cage, but that was a bit deceptive.  On the far side of the cage,
the area went past the bars a little bit and a small toilet was built into the
wall.  It wasn't completely private, though.  Anyone standing at the other end
of the cage and pressing their head against the bars would have a view of it,
but at least he didn't just leave me with a bucket.

Eventually I heard a key hit the lock and
the heavy door open.  From my position I couldn't see who it was but Charles
came into view just a few seconds later.

"So, how do you like it?" he
asked cheerfully.

"You're an asshole.  Let me the fuck
out." I said.

"Still angry?" he said. 
"Ok."  He turned around and left again. 

I yelled and screamed for him to let me
out, but I knew it was no use.  No one was coming until he was ready to
return.  Eventually I fell asleep on the thin carpet.

I woke up very hungry with still no idea
how much time had passed, or even if it was the same day.  I felt like I had
slept a long time, so I thought maybe it was the next day.  I just wanted to
get out of there and I was getting desperate.  And I wanted something to eat. 
I tried pulling on the bars of the cage for about the tenth time, but they
still weren't budging.  So I sat back again, miserable, and just waited.

A while later the door opened again and
Charles returned, still smiling at me.  "So?  What are your thoughts
now?"

I didn't care anymore.  I had cried out
all my anger and I just wanted something to eat and to get out of there. 
"It's fine," I said.  "But I'm hungry.  Can you please let me
out now."

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled
out a couple of granola bars.  I eyed them hungrily.  "You're not getting
out just yet.  There are some people that are anxious to meet you.  But I can
give you something to eat."

I nodded.  At the moment the idea of food
was much more important than freedom. 

"But you'll need to trade me for
it," he said.

I stared at him blankly, not sure what he
meant.  "I have nothing to give you," I said.

He smiled again.  "Sure you do."
He stuck a hand through the bars and turned it face up, his gaze fixed on my
body.  My clothes.  He wanted me to trade my clothes for the food.  At this
point, I could care less.  I quickly stripped everything off and handed it to
him, grabbing the food as he offered it.  I ripped open the packages and ate
both of them quickly, barely tasting anything.  Charles just watched me quietly
until I was done.

"Better?" he asked.  I nodded,
although I felt like I could eat a lot more than that. 

"Do you have any more?"

"You'll get something else.  I just
want to make sure you behave.  Someone will be in to see you soon.  Make sure
they leave happy."  With that, he was gone again, taking my clothes with
him.

I sat in the cage for a while, naked now,
except for my collar, but not as hungry.  Being naked usually didn't bother me
so much, but now that I was helplessly locked up in a cage I felt like I was a
zoo animal on display.  All I could do was wait for the next paying customer to
come by and stare at me, hopefully dropping some treats into my habitat. 
Except I knew that the customers coming here weren't going to just stare.  And
what they were likely to offer me were unlikely to be treats.  Not to me,
anyway.

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could
do about it.  I had nothing to cover myself with except my hands.  My dignity
had been sold for a couple of breakfast bars. 

A little while later I heard the door
unlock and open, then close and lock again.  Heavy footsteps announced the
arrival of the man before he came into view, but when he did I gasped at the
site of him.  He was huge.  Easily over six feet tall and probably over 400 pounds. 
He had almost no neck of which to speak, but he had at least two or three chins
to make up for it.  His arms were like tree trucks and his skin was a pasty
white.  He had a scruffy beard that looked like it was hiding a lot of acne. 
His short dark hair was greasy and he had big black eyes that immediately
roamed across my body.  A big grin broke across his face as he looked at me.

"Nice," was all he said.  He was
wearing a long black overcoat and he reached into his pocket with a massive
hand and then brought out a long leather cord.   He stuck one end through the
bars and grunted at me.  "Put this on."

I grabbed the end and looked at it, unsure
what it was at first.  It had a metal snap on the end, like it was meant to
attach to something.  Suddenly it was clear.  It was a leash.  I looked up at
him to protest, but his face had lost its grin from earlier and I lost my nerve
immediately.  Charles had said I had to make him happy.  I attached the end of
the leash to the loop on my collar.