No Limits Slave
By @Ted_Subby on FetLife, e-mail address nrjb2@yahoo.com.
Please check out all of my stories at www.assdisc.com.
Synopsis: A submissive man decides to make his dreams of 24/7 no limits slavery a reality. Codes = F/m, cruelty, torture, consensual non-consent.
Copyright © Ted Underfoot
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I’m going to go ahead with it tonight. I am writing this to keep a record of my thoughts as I transition into 24/7 no limits slavery, and I will be updating this journal every now and then. Maybe in a few years I will write a book.
I am scared as hell but also excited as hell. It feels like my entire life, ever since I learned what my dick is for, has been leading up to this point in which all of my fantasies and dreams come true. I am not stupid, though, I know that fantasies can turn into nightmares which is why I have spent time with my new Queen before agreeing to become her 24/7 no limits slave.
No limits slave. Those three words reach into my core and literally make my heart rate speed up. I can’t even express how amazingly great I feel about the thought of it, and now with the reality just hours away I feel as though I am ascending into heaven. Or falling into hell.
My Queen is very open about her sadism in her online profile, writings, and in direct conversation, and that is what appealed to me about her. She was not looking for part-time S&M fun or even a 24/7 servant. She doesn’t want someone to do her chores or someone to play with. She was looking to make a BDSM slave’s life a living hell and she would settle for nothing less than 100% authority over a suffering slave’s life. She and I were born for each other.
It seems natural to ask how someone like me can want to exist in a living hell at the hands of an extreme sadist. I am not a masochist, or not the type of masochists I read about online. When experiencing pain I rarely get a rush of endorphins and during torture I never feel pleasure in the standard sense of the word. Pain fucking hurts and I don’t hesitate to yell and beg for mercy. But I need it. I don’t just want to be tortured, I need it. I need for my Owner to make me suffer as much as possible, up to but not including injury.
And I need for it to be completely non-consensual. I am still a bit fuzzy on my own understanding of this, because I would not have wanted someone to kidnap me without my having met her first. From what I read, it’s called consensual non-consent and that phrase works for me. Once I give consent, it must be irrevocable or else it does not fulfill me. And in just a few hours I will be giving my irrevocable consent.
No limits slave. I see that posted online from time to time but I’m pretty certain that most of the guys who post that are just looking for masturbation material and would never want even one-tenth of the suffering those three words can lead to. I sort of laugh when I see others post that, because clearly most of them are just playing games. For me this has never been a game.
That is why in addition to signing the contract and recording the video of my full acceptance of the terms of my slavery – no terms and no limits – I am giving over control all of my finances, bank passwords, and power of attorney to my Queen. Also, she told me that she will be making a few videos for blackmail material of me clearly enjoying very humiliating and perverted activities. She won’t need to do that but I guess it increases the sense and the reality that she has my balls in her hand.
I should comment that I have served my Queen several times including one full weekend. She is a very passionate person and sexual slavery is a big part of what she enjoys. Sexual slavery is great but it is not my primary desire. What I particularly enjoy is the relentless pain she inflicts upon me.
I am a no limits slave but she and I both understand that she would not gain benefit from injuring me. Why damage your toy and prevent him from being able to work his 9-5 corporate job? Even if somehow she were just in this for the money, something which I learned is obviously not the case once I met her, injuring me would stop her gravy train of money.
My Queen has left the details of my slave existence somewhat vague and I am very glad for that. I would not want to have situations outlined before I agree, that would not fulfill my need to be a no limits slave.
So tonight my former life ends and thus will begin my new life as a no limits slave begins.
What a moron. These guys never fail to amaze me. They aren’t stupid, the guys whose lives I ruin are usually quite intelligent, but their missing something up there to make them commit to a “life of slavery.” I’m not complaining, though.
I think from now on I will make my prospective slaves write something like this guy did. Maybe that will give me more ammunition for making his life hell.
Hell is in the eye of the beholder, of course. I admit that this guy was able to take a whole lot of pain, though he was of course no match for my sadism. My sadism is not limited to inflicting physical pain, though. I was able to quickly determine what would entice him and played up my enjoyment of whips, needles, and electricity because that was what he was into, and I never lie about anything because I enjoy everything which causes my partner, or victim, pain. It isn’t bait-and-switch because I never said or even implied that I would be limited to just a handful of types of torture. And I’m sure he knew that anything was fair game, in fact he made a point to clarify many times that he was truly a no limits slave.
All of this is in the past tense as I knew it would be. I like to break my slaves. I think of it as teaching them a lesson about getting what they ask for. No, I take that back, I am not a teacher, I am a reaper. At least this guy was right that I am not in this for the money, even though it has been very lucrative. At age 32 this guy had built up almost two hundred thousand dollars of assets, once he liquidated all of it to give to me.
As soon as all of the financial information was transferred over to me, I went to work. He was expecting a session of S&M and thought that he was in heaven when I locked remote controlled electric shock collars around each of his thighs and ankles. He tried to hide his feelings but I could see that he was somewhat crestfallen when I told him to clean every inch of my entire house and punctuated my command with a few shocks. I knew that he didn’t enjoy pain for its own sake so disobedience wouldn’t be an issue. And two hours later as he realized that he hadn’t even scratched the surface of cleaning my entire house, he was clearly disappointed that he was being made to perform such drudgery. He was a good sport about it and I didn’t even have to zap him again (although I did zap him a bunch of times just for fun), but I sensed that it wouldn’t take me too many weeks to break him completely with the versions of hell I would eventually put him through. He wants no limits? I’d give him more misery than he could handle!
He and I had discussed living arrangement issues and some of the foods he likes and doesn’t like. I make a point to know my slaves. So of course I made a point to stock up on foods he dislikes most such as liverwurst, certain types of fish, black licorice sticks, and the dreaded broccoli. I don’t like any of those, either, but it was worth the smell just to make his life miserable. As a bonus, the licorice sticks made great single-tail whips of his face and I didn’t really care about the excuses he had to make to his work for the bruising. After a few minutes his screaming of pain in his face was so loud that I would have to gag him to continue, and he even started pulling away despite my incessant zapping of his thighs and ankles when he would move, so during the face-whipping sessions I frequently had to restrain him. I enjoyed the look in his eyes when first he realized how relentless I was to his face and I’m sure he hadn’t considered that I wouldn’t be constrained just because it might affect his work.
A week after he entered my service … hmmm, no that’s not right. Service implies that he was my house boy, and his comments about sexual slavery made me laugh because we had none of that, zero. A week after he became my victim I made him phone his boss and abruptly quit his job, oh excuse me I mean his “career.” His boss was furious at all of the insults I made my victim hurl at him, and all of the inappropriate things I made my victim admit to having done so that my victim would never be welcome there again. I had a big rush of power during that, and when my victim had tried to beg to keep his career I enjoyed laughing in his face and zapping the hell out of his thighs. I’m sure he had known that I might make him quit his job but now in reading his journal I see that he was thinking he would keep it so that he could continue to provide me money.
Let’s see, how else did I make him suffer. After all, a dozen hours of cleaning my house, writing lines and other pointless tasks of seemingly endless drudgery only to have me rip it up or sweep it all onto the ground for him to start over, having his little dickie locked in a permanent metal chastity device with the lock epoxied shut and the keys literally destroyed in front of his face, and having to give up his job and any connection to the outside world was no big deal for a “24/7 no limits slave.” No, I had a lot more in store for my victim.
I tried some sensory deprivation bondage on him in our first meeting and I could tell that it wasn’t all that interesting to him. Afterwards he asked me if I would be torturing him while he was in stasis but I told him before his point of no return that it wasn’t a big activity for me either way, and we didn’t experiment with it further. I had learned what I wanted to know, and once he became mine I put him in hours of sensory deprivation bondage at a time without any interaction other than to be nearby in case of an emergency. After all, he was right that I didn’t want my toy to be severely damaged. Or not physically, anyway.
I have tried sensory deprivation bondage myself and I didn’t enjoy it at all. I am a woman of action and to be deprived of senses and movement is to basically be deprived of life, so I could imagine the hell my victim was going through, considering that it did not fit his desire for physical pain. It made me feel great when once I release him I could see the emotional agony in his eyes. He never got used to it and I never stopped enjoying his empty suffering.
Making him wear restricting chains every night as he slept in his small cage was fun. I tried to make them about as uncomfortable as I could, without too much depriving him of sleep so that he could really feel his suffering the next day. Neck to one ankle, wrists somewhat twisted behind his back, and so on. I must admit that I am going to miss hearing his awful caterwaul when I would wake him up in the morning with pepper spray carefully smeared on one eyelid, rubber bands snapped hard against the soles of his feet, or just with some nice breath deprivation as I choked him awake with my hand.
I tried peeing in his mouth because that wasn’t something he enjoyed at all but it was too much trouble to set up in the bathtub and for him to clean up afterward so I stopped that. A few times I had him lick the dirt off my feet after I had taken a stroll outside barefoot, it was fun turning what he thought might be a positive with forced foot worship into a negative as the volume of dirt was more than he could take. He let loose a whole lot of tears just due to all of the coughing, which I enjoyed.
I enjoy tears of a slave but it was difficult to get him to cry at first, probably because I initially focused more on the agony of tedium rather than the intensity of physical pain. Then after a few days I learned of his sensitivity to bastinado, something I had never really on with previous victims, and from then on I subjected him to all sorts of pain in his feet. To my surprise, a thick rubber band snapped over and over on the same spot on his sole, and over and over and over, put him in an absolute frenzy of agony and tears. Wow did I enjoy that. After our first bastinado session he would be in obvious terror seeing me even make a slight move towards where I kept a rubber band nearby, and I would often justify his terror with more fun at his expense. I focused almost exclusively on his right foot so that he could at least limp around to perform the tedious tasks I required of him.
I think that the best time he had was during a shower, because that is the only time the electric shock bands would be removed from his ankles and upper thighs and he enjoyed the relative freedom of not experiencing immediate pain at my whim. I would always use a thick chain to attach his neck to the shower head before I removed the electric shock bands, and I could sense a deep relief at being temporarily free of those. Of course, he hated the very cold showers from my having shut off the warm water, so I at least had my fun.
He was the first victim I didn’t use a whip on, unless you count the licorice sticks against his face, and I didn’t use most of my other fun toys. One night he whimpered a plaintive plea to speak freely, which I granted, and he begged me to use conventional S&M toys on him. I made fun of him with “Poor baby you don’t like being a no limits slave? Are you a do-me sub? Yes, you are a do-me sub!” which made him feel bad about himself in not being able to tolerate what he fantasized about for so long. I just love turning guys’ fantasies into a reality of true hell.
I also enjoyed torturing his fingers. I have a nice finger restraint system which allowed me to make some nice paper cuts which I would “salve” with salt water. I’m sure that my victim had never experienced that level of concentrated pain before. It was very exhilarating to see his shocked reaction at thinking he was Mr. Masochist before meeting me. That is one of my favorite parts of all of this, reducing Mr. Masochist to a quivering whimpering wimp who truly begs for mercy. In a frenzy of agony they always try to tell me “I will do anything you say” but at that moment they are forgetting that they have already given me everything they have and my level of mercy is zero. I enjoy the begging but I more enjoy the screaming and crying.
I could go on about more tortures I inflict but I am going to focus on acquiring my next mark, so I’m going to finish up writing about this latest one. Once I made him quit his job a week after becoming my victim and he realized that this was not the type of slavery or victimization he really wanted, he became depressed. He was okay the first few days as it took me time to break him, then the days of constant torment and misery made him anxious and unhappy, but the following week is really when it sunk in that he had given everything he had and everything he was, all of his dreams, to me and I was crushing them completely. I felt that at that time if I had offered to let him go he would have taken it.
He knew better than to ask me to release him, though, or maybe he was just too depressed. I tried to snap him out of it with some nice pepper juice and bastinado, and that snapped him out of it so to speak, but once the pain died down to a dull roar his depression returned. I actually gave him a break at times, not because I felt any mercy but because I wanted to enjoy his depression as it festered. I realized that at that time having him just stuck in a small metal cage depressed with nothing to do for hours gave me more joy than his ultra-tedious tasks or even to suffer physical pain. He had such a pouty face, it was wonderful! I would keep his hands in bondage during these episodes so that he couldn’t kill himself, just in case he wanted to go that far.
He cried often during the second week. Even when I would just begin to torture him or often just in his cage I would see those wonderful tears.
After two weeks he gathered up the courage to beg for his release. I played with him a bit and asked him if he was sure, since he had no money, home, or job to his name, and he assured me that this slavery was not what he had in mind and he couldn’t take it anymore. I asked him “Don’t you want to be a no limits slave?” and the agonized regret he had in his face was positively beautiful as he acknowledged how ridiculous he had been.
He broke down crying again and begged me with every fiber of his heart to have mercy and let him go. With compassion on my face I went to retrieve the key to his cage but as I inserted it into the lock I also showed him the contract he had signed, and I pulled the key back away from the lock. He cried deliriously for 5 minutes as I just watched and occasionally laughed.
After that his mood actually improved as I think he resolved to at least tolerate his predicament, knowing that he was completely powerless to end it. I worried that he might actually begin to enjoy the abuse I heaped on him but I stepped up my game and broke him down again after another few days. I could see then that he knew I had him, he was mine to make suffer through absolute hell for the rest of his life.
Starting at this time one of the things I did for a few hours at a time was to set up random pulses on the electric shock collars and that helped break down his psyche as he could not predict when they would occur or even which of the four would strike next. Also, for hours at a time I had him restrained in an uncomfortable position and required him to type the same paragraph over and over into an application on my computer which would zap him for any mistakes or slowdowns. And of course sensory deprivation bondage for hours helped break him down further. He was a mess of emotions every night as I put his chains on and after another week even in the morning he was still an emotional wreck.
This is when I began to tire of him. The guy was literally becoming a basket case and it’s only the journey there which excites me. Once a victim becomes a shell of a human being I have no more use for him and that’s when I typically let him go. This one had a quality of agony which really endeared him to me even after his breaking point, so I hung onto him for an additional week. Besides, one month is a very short time to squeeze enjoyment out of a victim, guys normally last for a couple of months or so except one guy who was toast after just a few days.
At the end, as usual, I pretended to show compassion and gave him $100 as I threw him out onto the sidewalk in the night air with only his original clothing. I told him that I was showing pity on him and concerned about his future, so I asked him to stay in touch with me and I could help him out with $100 from time to time. I do this to help deflect any retribution anger my victims may have, so that they would not want to risk losing their only initial source of occasional income. I do go through some drama from time to time with threatened lawsuits or arrests and the like, but when push comes to shove and I suggest that I will publicize the videos of these guys enjoying doing disgusting things, the protests always die down over time. I stay vigilant in case one of those crazies truly gets out of hand and attacks me in some way, but the joy of this lifestyle is worth having to go through some of that.
What about those who say that I am evil? Fuck them. On the other hand, am I doing anything illegal? Possibly. I acknowledge that the reality of consensual non-consent, not just play-time, is dodgy at best from a legal standpoint. At some point they always want to end my fun but I hang on much longer than that, and that in itself is probably illegal. There’s no such thing as a legal slave contract but I still feel good about my chances if ever a victim would overcome all of the humiliation and pain of reliving the experiences to put me on trial. Not that it would ever get that far as these guys are really too emotionally messed up to press charges anyway, and it would be too difficult to get anyone to believe that it wasn’t consensual with all of the contract and video material I have.
To address the issue of my conscience, though, let’s just say that I sleep well at night. These guys ask for it. I don’t mean that they get what they deserve, I mean that they explicitly ask to be treated without limits. They beg to be my no limits slave and to suffer. And I give them exactly what they ask for.
Word Count = 4,000
See all my stories at http://www.assdisc.com.