Chained Convict For Life
Chained Convict For Life
My name is Sabrina Wheeler, and I was born on the 14 th of April 1970.
So I was thirty-two years old and on the 14 th of April 2005, will become thirty-five. I am still, at the time of this writing, held in a private, secret, basement dungeon in a house somewhere to the southwest of the city of Munich, Germany, in the direction of the Starnberger Zee. I have been kept in this dungeon for over well over eight years now. So I am told, always in solitary confinement for the first four, but that is not the worst of my situation ... by any means.
This is the story of how I came to my present life here in the dungeon.
I was born in Munich and moved through my childhood quite normally, being the only child of a loving mother and father. Although they wanted more children in their lives, I was the only one they were to receive, and so they lavished their love upon me, providing a happy, secure, and wonderful home to grow up in.
My mother was an educated, intelligent woman and, as such, elected to stay at home to raise me while my father worked as an engineer for a large aviation company here in Germany. I suppose he would have preferred a boy as his only child, but he made no issue of this and spoke continually to me about his work, as he would had I been a boy. As a consequence, I became interested in mechanical things quite early in life, and like most children who are taken into the world of an adult I wanted to be just like him.
I was a happy girl and a good student, but I'm sure my curiosity was a constant source of wonderment and some worry to my parents. I followed the path of most young German girls, doing all of the things that were expected and programmed for me along the way. I read all the fairy tales about young, beautiful princesses, handsome knights and fearsome dragons that are used to entertain children. However, it was at this point in my life, probably seven or eight years of age, that I discovered I had more than the usual fascination with the plight and fate of the princesses in those stories.
At first, it was an unfocussed desire to experience what they were subjected to as the poor victims of evil men, with no thought in my young mind that perhaps the heroines had been imprisoned for good reason, at least in the eyes of their captors. Too, being such unwilling prisoners, I knew they would eventually be freed by a valiant knight on a white charger then taken off to a land of never-ending love and being cherished. At some point, my desires began to clarify. My attraction was to the fact that these women were kept captive in very strong chains and that they were always locked away in deep secret, and secure dungeons from which there were no possible escape. I don't know why these visions held the attraction they did. They became an over-riding fascination that I thirsted after, and read all the tales I could find about this kind of situation, but never spoke to my parents or friends of this strange enchantment, enjoying its terrifying attractions in the privacy of my room.
One of the highlights of my teenage years, at thirteen, was to secretly buy a pair of real handcuffs. I spent many enjoyable nights playing with them in the privacy and sanctuary of my bedroom, wondering what it would be like to be truly locked into these restraints with no means of removing them from myself. I tried them on my wrists and occasionally clasped them around my ankles, enjoying the sensations of strict control they engendered. Along with this playing, I also learned how to pick their rather simple locking mechanisms, as well as those of the regular locks around the house.
My attraction to these situations continued to grow while I passed through adolescence, but schooling took precedence. Thanks to my father's influence, I studied mechanical and aviation-related subjec