I feel the cold bars of my cage, my home, the darkness of the quiet basement swallowing me as I rest from my long day serving my master. Shivering I lean into my cellmate, my fellow slave, his arm wrapping around me, holding me close to him as we embrace and keep each other warm. 

Neither of us know each others name, I barely remember my own these days, no one has called me it in so long now. He was already here when I was captured and enslaved, he looked out for me and helped to guide me, without him I'm not sure how I would have coped, it would have taken me far longer to have finished my training, and I would have received a lot more punishment, my back would be like his, covered in whip marks, my own only having a few since he taught me the error of his ways to prevent me from go through what he did. 

I curl up with him, my head resting on his shoulder, my caged cock straining, I know his is as well, both of us wishing that at least one of us was free. Despite everything, despite both serving the same master, despite not knowing anything about each other before we were enslaved, we have formed a bond, a connection, even our master has noticed, regularly chaining our collars together or allowing us to make out in front of him and others, our horny and denied bodies, our frustrated minds making us go crazy as we're able to touch each other, kiss, caress, rub against each other, even finger our asses, getting so close but never allowed to achieve release, never allowed to fully make love like with our master. Instead our love for each other is shown through giving our master pleasure, in both pleasing him and bring him to blissful orgasm we share in his joy, working together as a couple to fulfill our purpose in life. 

Strangely part of me is pleased and grateful to have been kidnapped and enslaved, to have lost my rights and freedoms, to have been taken from my old life, to be stripped of my clothes and possessions, to not even have a name, to exist solely to serve. Some days might be tiring, difficult, painful, humiliating or degrading, but I'd gladly accept it all, because it means I found my love, I can live this life if I can be with him. And I'm thankful to my master for allowing use to stay together, to serve him together, that he approves of our bond, that it makes us better slaves, ones willing to prove ourselves in order to remain together. 

I close my eyes, grateful for my lover and fellow slave, as we both rest holding each other, ready for the next day of our lives together serving our master.