Far gone...

Connors tried to complain but the gag filled his mouth. Every time he tried to speak, the gag seemed to push into his throat and he ended up coughing and gurgling. He could hardly hear anything through the hood. He thought the other man had called him a "****" and he wanted to challenge that, but couldn't do anything about it. He reached up to try and remove the hood, only to be thwarted by the padlocks.

By the time he got back to the table, his opponent had already racked up the balls. Connors peered through the pin prick holes in the hood at the table and settled down to take the break. To his surprise his vision wasn't compromised too much, but the real problem became apparent as he settled down to take the shot. As he crouched down, the solid band of leather around his throat wouldn't allow him to move his head easily and so he found it difficult to sight along the cue.

Even so, he broke the triangle of balls up, sinking one and then went on to pot 4 more. Confident of a win he stood back. To his surprise, his opponent didn't immediately move to the table but walked over to Connors instead. He ran his hands over Connors leathered head and then ran then down over his pecs, kneading them gently. To his surprise, Connors didn't step away, instead, he leant into the touch.

"Final frame I think, officer. What do you say we up the ante?"

Connors grunted a reply into the gag. The man chuckled. "You want to know to what? Very well. I'll put up my entire stake - £10,000. I return, you forfeit -- everything." Connors grunted a reply that sounded like a question. "I mean everything - you lose, all this stays on you and you become my ****." He paused. "Agreed?"

Connors looked at the stack of money and couldn't resist. He nodded eagerly.

"Excellent." The man took up position with his cue and took aim at his first ball. Connors held his breath and watched as the man easily potted the first three balls. As the man continued and the balls went down the holes, Connors felt something change. He felt himself submitting to the man in front of him. Without thinking about it, he sank to his knees. He put has hands behind his back, wrists crossed at the base of his spine. He kneeled in an upright position, straight back, head bent. He couldn't see the balls being potted any more, but he could hear then. With each clonk and rattle, his submission continued. Knee high leather boots appeared on his feet and were zipped and strapped in place. They were then secured by thick iron shackles with a 6" length of chain between then. Similar iron shackles appeared on his wrists locking them in place. A short chain appeared attached to the back of his collar and then linked to his wrist shackles, pulling his wrists higher up his back, making his pecs stand out even more.

On the table, the man looked over at his **** and smiled as he potted the black. He walked over to the kneeling man, clipped a chin to the big ring on the front of the slaves collar and pulled it to its feet. He pushed it over the pool table, so its ass was exposed and he opened up the ass zip. Taking the plug from the side of the table, he slid it inside the slaves ass, enjoying the grunts and groans that the **** made as it pushed inside him. He zipped the shorts closed, trapping the plug deep inside the **** and then pulled him upright. He stared into its eyes through the hood and grinned "Welcome to your new life, ****."

With that he grabbed the chain and led the **** out into the bar, leaving its old uniform on the floor and the stack of money unguarded.