Chains and The Church

Chapter 1

I was a hostage. I was taken from my assignment - from my team. My brothers. They probably were looking for me, and yet I just woke up, chained in this concrete room. The chains were tight around my wrists, digging into the skin. I grunted as I pulled at them, which only made them dig in more.

I surveyed my surroundings, seeing nothing but a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and the chains that bound me to the wall. I shuddered as I sat up, the concrete nearly freezing below my knees. I let out a soft breath, seeing it cloud out in front of me. There was no heat in the room I was in. I had on my skin-tight black clothes, covering from my neck to my ankles. I still had my black socks on, too. These typically went beneath my armor. My armor was nowhere to be found.

Although it was cold in the room, my blacks kept me reasonably warm. The armor would've helped, but it was alright for the time being. I pulled at the chains again, grunting as I felt them press deeper into my skin. I let out a breath, slowly standing. My body ached from the drugs he had slipped me.

I was out with my team, on an assignment in North Dakota. It was cold, but I didn't mind. Walking with the members of my specialized team, we entered a bar. We got drinks but were looking for information. We had to be casual, though we felt severely out of place, even with our armor mostly covered. A man sat beside me at the end of the bar and struck up a conversation with me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He seemed to be acting drunk. I hummed, thinking maybe I could get something useful out of him, so I played along. I smiled, reciprocating his conversation, which turned into flirting. He seemed to know about the man we were trying to track down, so I pushed further into his flirting. I sipped my drink along the way, and my team members broke off to follow their own leads. I knew we would rendezvous later.

The room started to spin, and all the voices echoed in my ears. I knew something was wrong. I stood but fell over, and the man caught me, suddenly not drunk anymore. He helped me out and into the back of a van, to which I could barely protest due to the drugs. I passed out with the slam of the van doors.

I was pulled from my thoughts when a door opened at the top of the stairs. A light shone down the stairs but didn't help much. I blinked and looked up, seeing a figure coming down. It seemed to be a male figure, and as he came into the light I recognized it was the man from the bar. "You... Why did you do this?"

He laughed at me, walking to me and stroking my cheek with one finger. "I liked you. You seemed to like me too."

"I didn't, trust me," I huffed, pulling away from his touch. "First of all, I'm not gay."

He hummed, looking me over. "Well, I'll forgive you for pulling away from me, but don't do it again. You're mine now, whether you like it or not."

"And what does that mean? I'm not yours. I don't belong to anyone."

"But you do. Aren't you a soldier? Specialized unit? Don't you belong to the government?"

I blinked at him again but shook my head. "What makes you think that?"

"People are oblivious," he replied. "I saw your armor, even beneath your covering. I've analyzed it already. It's upstairs, of course. I've looked up the markings, your rank, and even your name. I already know everything about you. A stoic soldier, young, chosen as the leader of a special team. Rank of Captain. I commend you, Joseph Hart. Of course, that will be the last time you'll ever hear your name being called. From now on, you'll be mine and whatever I want to call you."

"And what's your name?" I huffed, looking to him with narrowed eyes.

A devious smile split across his face. "You'll call me master."

My breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed hard, looking to him. "You're sick! What do you want from me?!"

"I want you. You're going to be my new pet. You're going to be my slave." He chuckled, walking into the darkness, then came back with a chair, setting it behind me and pushing me down to sit. My heart raced and my breathing labored as he slowly sat down, straddling my lap. "So, pet, here are the rules. You do what I say, when I say it, without hesitation. You don't speak unless explicitly spoken to. And you never pull away from me. You take what I give you without question and with thanks. Disobey, and you'll be punished."

I didn't say anything, not because he didn't want me to, but because I didn't know what to say. It was appalling to me. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping this was a nightmare that I would wake up from. He touched my cheek again, and I flinched, pulling at the chains around my wrists, trying to push him off me. "Don't fucking touch me!" I kicked and pushed at him, but he wouldn't move from my lap.

Opening my eyes, I could see the scowl on his face. The shadows from the bulb above us cast menacingly on his face. I felt a sharp pain on my cheek, gasping and stopping my movements as I realized what had happened. He had slapped me. I scowled back at him in response. He grabbed my chin with one hand and my neck with the other, squeezing, and forcing me to look into his dark eyes. "Don't fight, or you will be punished. This is your last fucking warning."

He squeezed my neck harder, and I struggled, making his squeeze harder. I could barely breathe now, wheezing short breaths in and out. I started to see spots and my body slowly relaxed. He finally let go, allowing me to breathe. I was dizzy, blinking and trying to regain myself. The room spun. "Good boy. The less you struggle, the less painful it will be."

"What...?" I breathed out the word, not fully understanding what was going on. A million things raced through my head as I regained myself. I had no idea what was happening to me.

"I said the less you struggle, the less pain you will have," he repeated, stroking my cheek again. I didn't move away this time or struggle, looking up at him. "Good boy," he affirmed again, making me frown. His hand moved up my face and into my dark hair, gripping it and pulling my head back hard. I grunted in pain but looked at him.

The man looked over my neck, smiling again, that same sick smile. He ran his fingertips over my neck using his other hand. "The bruises are already forming. They're beautiful." He leaned down and started kissing my neck, his hand trailing down to feel my chest. I shuddered, closing my eyes tightly. I wished over and over, nearly prayed, that I would wake up from this hell. His lips moved across my neck, and he started licking at the bruises, then used his teeth. He licked and bit the sensitive skin on my neck, and all I could do was grunt and groan in pain and helplessness.

His free hand moved down to find the seam between my shirt and my pants, then slipped up my shirt, letting his cold hand touch my warm skin. He moved up, letting his fingernails drag over my torso as he moved back down. I grunted at the stimulation, though it didn't really hurt. Suddenly, my pride swelled, and I decided I wasn't going to be the object of the man's sick affection. Pulling against the chains, I pushed with all I had to get him off me.

He was taken aback, stumbling back into a standing position. My chest labored as I looked up at him, glad to be away from his sickening touches. He reached down and pulled me up by my shirt, kicking the chair away and into the darkness, out of reach. "You fucking bitch. I told you the rules! I told you the rules, and now, you're going to be punished." He threw me to the ground, and I grunted. Anything to get away from his touch, even if it was painful. I figured I could survive the cold.

The man left me, and I huffed, feeling at my neck and chest where the marks were left. I sat on the cold floor and shivered, as he had been keeping me warm while on top of me. Sighing, my breath clouded out before me again, reminding me how cold it actually was.

A few moments passed, and the man came back, this time with a bucket. I looked up at him and barely had time to react before freezing water was dumped on me. The breath was knocked from my lungs for a moment. I was shocked, then started really shivering, standing and looking at his shadowed face. "What the fuck?!"

"Shut up, pet. You don't speak unless explicitly spoken to. This is your punishment. I'll check on you when I'm ready. Think about what you've done," he growled, throwing the bucket into the darkness before leaving, the upstairs door slamming shut. I was left alone with only the light bulb, chains and the cold. I curled as close as I could beneath the lightbulb, my only source of heat, and closed my eyes. I wasn't sure if I would survive long. I could only hope that the "master" would be back soon.