He could feel his surroundings press in on him as the earpiece went
silent. He struggled to move, but his efforts just seemed to make the
material settle in around him, making it even more difficult to move.
Meanwhile, outside she sits on the lid of the box and feels it settle
beneath her with a smile. Securing the latches, she then pulls the
length of breathing tube that remains outside the box.
Patting the top of the box with a gloved hand she says aloud but to
herself, "Boy, are you going to be a lot of fun." She then gets up and
walks away.
Inside the box he is suppressing the urge to panic. He can see nothing
and can hear nothing but the sound of his breath. Again he tries to move
and this time it seems as if he doesn't move at all, instead futilely
pressing against the material that surrounds him. He tries to think but
finds it difficult to focus on any single thought.
"Did she really say that she would check in on me in a few days? She
can't be serious!"
Left alone with his thoughts he begins to think about and try to
understand just how he got here. This was much more than he expected.
But then what did he expect? He had agreed to serve and gave her free
rein with few limits and she had taken it fair and square. But this was
just way too much. Five years? Nine years? She has to be jerking my
chain about that. He may have convinced himself temporarily that this
was the case, but as time passed and his breath seemed to grow louder in
his years, his conviction crumbled. He wanted out of there now, and he
meant right now. He began to struggle with all his might but still
couldn't move at all. Even though the mouth gagged pressed his tongue
down and turned his words to gibberish, he began to yell into the
breathing tube as loudly as he could.
At first he started with "Mistress? Mistress please?" Then progressed to
yelling, "Get me out of here, please somebody!" these then turned to
"Please, I can't breathe." Or "I think I'm suffocating."
She would stop by on a regular basis and listen to his protests, knowing
that everything was okay but checking anyway. This continued on for
hours until his voice grew hoarse at which point he rested. He seemed to
drift in and out of sleep and consciousness as he tried to rest. Because
of this he lost all perspective on time, and how long he'd been there
She hadn't heard from him in about a half hour, so the next time she
went to check on him she grabbed the breathing tube and shook it until
she got a response. She then poured a splash of water into the tube.
Feeling the tug on the tube then the water in his mouth startled him
awake. Unsure where he was for a brief moment, he was quickly reminded
by the darkness and the confinement. His feet ached from the shoes and
his ribs from the corset even worse. His jaw was sore not only from the
gag but from the posture collar biting beneath his chin. The water was a
relief, and he realized that she must be right there. He struggled to
speak as clear as he could through the gag.
"Please... This is too much. Please..."
He struggled to remember her name, then realized he didn't even know it.
Every time they had talked he simply called her ma'am, as she had
requested.
"I can't do this; I mean it's just too much. Please..."
He waited for a response but there was none.
"Ma'am? Can you hear me?"
And still no response. He tried and tried again but was met with only
silence. He wasn't even sure if she could understand him through the
gag, but she must be able to at least hear him. He became more and more
concerned and struggled to suppress it. Time passed and again he felt
the water splash into his mouth.
He immediately called out, "Ma'am... Please ma'am, you must hear me. I
don't want this anymore, I want out. Okay?"
Again there is no response and it seemed as if the material around him
was pressing in on him further, and his breath grew quicker and louder
in his head. Panic gripped him and he started shouting to her again,
regardless of whether or not she could hear or understand him.
As she sat on top of the box she could hear his voice on the headset.
Coming from the microphone against his throat inside the hood, she could
make out what he was saying quite easily. She could hear the fear in his
voice and as he continued to plead it slowly drifted towards anger. She
continued to splash water into the tube each time he became silent and
this went on for about nine hours. Near the end of this time he had
actually began shouting obscenities and insults. During this time she
had the headset set to record whenever there was an incoming sound. This
recording she begins to play back to him. In the box he is at his wits
end when he hears the speaker in his ear crackle to life. First there is
silence, then he hears a voice muffled and distant. Slowly he realizes
the voice is his. He can hear himself picking and pleading. Then asking
and begging. Then he heard his voice turn angry and starts to think that
he really shouldn't have said some of what he said.
This is driven home by her voice chiming in noting that, "You're going
to be very sorry for some of this, bitch."
when he thought he was finally done listening to the recording it
started back again from the beginning, and it did this again and again
for what seemed like forever but was actually three hours. After twelve
hours, he's scared and distraught and trying with little success to stay
calm.
Then he hears her voice chiming in again. "I'm about to get you out of
there now, so you need to calm down. I must say I'm more than a bit
disappointed in you. Such language and disrespect. So much so that I'm
probably going to put off taking ownership of the club, or possibly find
another candidate, I'm just not sure right now. That saves you from
having to make a decision about your work and service commitment.
Because if you're not working for me at the club, that means you're
going to be my formal maidservant. I personally thought that working at
the club would have been easier on you, but I also thought you had a bit
more self control. I'm beginning to think that you may have
misrepresented your abilities and self-discipline, but I'm starting to
get a good idea of where you're at. I'm sure that once we get your
formal training completed you won't have such problems. Although there
is bound to be some rough spots along the way, I'm sure I can push you
through them."
He felt the material that had encased him give slightly, then felt her
cutting whenever it was he had been wrapped up in. Then he felt her hand
around his wrist as she helped him up. She continued to speak as she
helped him step out of the box. He struggled to keep his balance once
out of the box and was almost grateful when she guided him to his knees.
Even though once there she had clipped his wrist cuffs together behind
his back, he barely noticed.
She continued. "I do believe I'm getting a much better picture of where
you are and what you need. I have my doubts that you've ever actually
served as a true maid, or been truly controlled for that matter. Based
on that, I'm going to forgive these most recent transgressions. However,
I also believe that you have had a fair amount of casual experience and
have tried and know what's involved in the lifestyle. You also knew just
exactly what our agreement might require, and what chances you would be
taking. You emphasized being held captive/ a lack of control/ having no
choice, and you also knew that the reality of the situation wouldn't
match the fantasy. Make no mistake, this is happening to you, but you
really need to be formally trained and taught to accept your position.
Once that's accomplished I'm sure you will be less prone to outbursts
like the ones I just taped."
She undoes the lock on his collar, then unsnaps the hood from the inside
of his collar. She peels it back and he is greeted with cool fresh air
on his face. She pulls the gag and earplugs out along with the hood and
sets them aside.
"There now, doesn't that feel better?" She asks as she steps away from
him.
It's all he can do to nod yes. She settles back onto the couch as she
grabs the recorder and presses play.
Speaking over the tape she says, "You were told that you weren't allowed
to even ask about being let out of our agreement, which is something I
could ask of at least a partially trained submissive. And yet here on
the tape is where you say that you don't want to do this anymore. You
see, this tells me that you still think this is some kind of game or
something that you can just walk away from." She leans back, crossing
her arms. "Hell, if I wanted to I could extend your commitment even
further just for asking that. Instead we'll take a different tack and
just start you in your training first thing in the morning. I'll set the
alarm for 5 AM. That will give you time to shower, remove any and all
body hair except your eyebrows or what's covered by a wig, get dressed
in what I'm going to layout for you, do your makeup, then make coffee.
She steps around behind him and opens the remainder of the locks, then
heads directly towards her bedroom and to bed. Before closing the door
she wags a finger and says "Don't misbehave." leaving him in stunned
silence.
Stripping down, he then carries all of the equipment that was once on
him to the guest bedroom and lays it on the dresser before flopping onto
the bed in exhaustion and quickly falls asleep. He wakes to the sound of
the alarm, having slept through the night. He takes a moment to get his
bearings, then heads for the bathroom to empty his bladder. Stepping
inside he can see the clothes she had picked out for him hanging on the
backside of the door. There's a note along with them, it reads "do
yourself a favor and try to do your absolute best in everything that you
do, or we can always go back to this." Folded inside the note is a
picture of him dressed in full latex as he was last night. The picture
sends a shiver down his spine.
He turns the shower on then planting his hands on the counter he stares
at himself and asks, "How did I get into this?"
Shaking his head side to side he decides that he better get started.
Grabbing the depilatory he covers himself with a thick layer and gives
it time to work before stepping into the shower. When finished he towels
off and begins to work on his makeup. Half hour later he's finished.
Slipping the blonde wig on he steps back from the mirror to inspect his
work. Satisfied with the results he now turns to the clothes she had
hung there. His full torso black satin corset, a full knee length white
petticoat and both covered by a satin maids outfit with high neck and
long sleeves. There was also a pair of sheer black stockings and his
pair of 5 1/2 inch pumps with the padlocking ankle straps. He let out a
sigh when he saw the height of the heels. Also on the counter where the
padlocking wrist cuffs as well as the padlocking collar. He's almost
finished dressing when he hears a sharp knock on the door.
"You need to finish whatever you're doing right now so you can get out
here and start the coffee! You should have been done by now."
He quickly finishes snapping the locks on the heels cuffs and collar
into place. Looking in the mirror it all seems a dream to him as he
looks himself over. Drawing a heavy sigh and steeling himself, he steps
out of the bathroom. In the kitchen he sees her sitting at the table
with an empty mug in front of her. He considers apologizing but thinks
better of it then heads directly to the coffee maker and starts a pot
brewing. There's an awkward silence as he stands there waiting for the
coffee to finish, unacknowledged by her. Once done he walks the pot over
to her and fills her cup, then returns the pot to its place. Not quite
sure what to do he folds his hands in front of him and stands there,
waiting.
She motions him over to her, then orders him to turn around facing away
from her. He feels a belt slipped around his waist at its smallest point
followed by the click of another padlock.
Then he hears her say, "Hands behind you."
She then connects a 3 ft length of chain from one cuff, then through a
loop in the belt, ending at the other cuff. Sitting back in her chair
she tells him to go and take care of anything that he might need to,
then to return here. Blowing the steam off the top of the mug she
watches him as he minces off. Smiling to herself she wonders how far she
will be able to take him and how harsh she should be...
He minces back to the guestroom with a million thoughts running through
his head. He quickly makes the bed and straightens out anything that
looks out of place. Before returning to the kitchen he checks his
uniform and make-up, then lingers for a moment. Staring at himself in
the mirror it's hard for him to believe it's him, and these past couple
days seem surreal to say the least. He snaps out of it and heads back to
the kitchen before he is missed, he knows he has to be here at least a
few more days and doesn't want to make it any more difficult than it has
to be. He tells himself that he can figure out what to do about this
whole situation once he's released to go home. Especially this whole 9
year thing she is talking about. As he steps into the kitchen she
motions for him to come to her. As he approaches her she points to a
spot on the floor in front of her. She then tells him to turn facing
away from her. Hooking a clip to the middle of the chain connecting his
wrists she pulls it through a loop on the belt drawing his hands behind
him, then attaches it to a d ring on his collar. She then proceeds to
look him up and down, checking that he's properly uniformed. As she does
this he can hear her making a tsk tsk sound as if she disapproves, and
he begins to tremble.
Stepping back with a sigh and a shake of her head, she speaks. "Before I
get into what I see wrong already let's cover some basics. Unless it's
very important not speaking until spoken to still applies. You will be
on your best behavior at all times. You will move with grace and in a
feminine manner at all times. You will keep your uniform, makeup and
general appearance impeccable at all times and you will do your absolute
best at your assigned tasks. Speaking of tasks, your basic daily chores
will consist of dusting and vacuuming all carpeted rooms, sweeping and
mopping those that are tile. Both bathrooms will be cleaned top to
bottom. Beds will be made with clean sheets each day. Laundry will be
done each day and you will be responsible for any hanging, ironing or
mending required. I will provide you with the menu and you will prepare
and serve all meals as well as clear the table, do the dishes and keep
the kitchen clean. These are in addition to any other tasks assigned by
me."
She paces around in front of him and clips the end of a leash to his
collar.
"Now as far as your schedule goes, you will be reporting here Tuesday
morning after your son heads off to school, and we'll figure out the
rest of the week from there. We'll address the matter of your employment
in the upcoming months, but there's no need to be concerned with that
for some time."
Walking him over to the large footstool, she has him stand close enough
to it that his shins touch one side of it.
"Now we're going to go over the areas that you've already fallen short
or need to work on."
She threads the end of the leash through the eyebolt in the center of
the stool and pulls it enough to tip him forward slightly before
securing it.
"First of all there's the matter of your shoes being unpolished and
having scuff marks."
This she says to him as she steps into her bedroom. Seconds later she
steps back out carrying a pencil thin neoprene cane.
"That is unacceptable as your shoes are to be polished and scuff free at
all times."
Bunching his petticoat up behind him and pressing it into his hands she
tells him. "Hold this up out of the way for me please, and I would
advise against dropping it."
Without hesitation she swings the cane hard against one exposed cheek,
then the other as quickly as she can. He screams and tries to snap
upright but the leash stops him. He almost falls forward but manages to
keep standing.
Stepping directly behind him and back a bit she says. "The seams on your
stockings are not straight."
She swings the cane so the tip lands on the inside of his thigh. He
screams and shouts an expletive while falling forward to his knees on
the footstool.
She simply moves closer and strikes his other thigh in the same way,
causing him to shout out again followed by, "Please, please."
She grabs him by the arm and pulls him back up to his feet while he
pleads "Can't we just discuss this?" to which she replies "This was all
discussed weeks ago." holding onto the chain connecting his wrists and
neck with her left hand, she lands the cane on the outside of his right
thigh.
"This is for speaking out of turn." and again "This is for your
stockings being uneven heights." again "this is for the lint on your
stockings." again... "And the wrinkles in your uniform."
He pulls against her grip. He tries to suppress it but can't help
shouting and asking her to stop. Switching hands she continues on the
other thigh.
"This is for your corset not being completely closed."
"And this is for the corset laces being uneven."
He squirms but can't escape the cane.
"And this is for your apron strings being uneven."
He jerks free of her grip and falls forward on the footstool, ass in the
air.
"Goddamit bitch!" she yells as she swings the cane hard to the outside
of his thigh, splitting the skin. Now he is howling and she swings
again...
"This is for the lipstick on your teeth."
He rolls off the side of the stool as she swings again.
"And this is for the smudged eyeliner."
"And these last ones are for moving around so much."
At this point he is trying to get to his feet and get away when the cane
lands again on his ass. He makes the mistake of trying to block the next
one with his bound hands and receives a blow to the knuckles and screams
in pain, falling back to the floor. She steps over him and straddling
him, grabbing the wrist chain again.
Standing over him and pulling his ass towards her by the chain with one
hand she lands the cane on his ass as he shouts "My hand, my hand!"
Through clenched teeth she retorts, "Serves you right for trying to
block me."
She continues for several more blows, then drops the chain, spent. She
sits backwards onto the stool and wipes the sweat from her brow as he
squirms and braces for a blow that doesn't land.
They both pause to rest, then she reaches behind her and detaches the
end of the leash and threads it through the eyebolt in the center of the
stool. Draping the leash over her shoulder she moves to the edge of the
stool with the opposite end of the leash running between her legs. By
pulling the leash she draws his head closer and closer to her sex.
Sliding a finger along its length then holding it up to him she says,
"Just look at what you do to me."
She then slips one hand behind his head and pushes him into her sex
while she pulls him forward with the leash.
His face forced into her sex, he can't believe how wet she was. She had
totally gotten off on what she had just done and that terrified him. He
had flashbacks of the video she had shown him and he tried to push the
images out of his mind. He was in pain and is pretty sure that he can
feel blood running from several of the cane welts. He was already winded
and now was being damn near suffocated by her. She held him there
through several orgasms and just when he thought his knees couldn't take
anymore she pushed him off her.
"Face to the floor!" she commanded as she stood. Placing a high heeled
foot directly in front of him she asked, "Aren't you going to properly
thank me for showing you the error of your ways?"
He was confused, as thanking her for what she had just done was the last
thing on his mind. He did begin to plant kisses on her shoe almost as a
reflex, but it took her clearing her throat for him to say, "Thank you
Ma'am."
She turned and stepped away from him as she remarked, "That wasn't very
sincere... but rest assured, in the near future that thanks will be
truly sincere. Now up on your feet and get over here."
It took him a minute to rise as he was sprawled on the floor with his
hands secured at the small of his back. Once on his feet he minces over
to her and she orders him to turn around. She detaches the clip so his
hands are no longer held at the small of his back. Once freed as such
she instructed him to go clean himself up and to be quick about it as
she was still waiting on breakfast.
"Which by the way will be simple today. Just cereal, juice and more
coffee. Go!"
And away he went to touch up his makeup, polish his shoes, close his
corset, straighten his seams and brush-off his uniform. Upon returning
he paused, unsure of what to do for a moment, then stepped in the
kitchen start preparing breakfast for her. It should have been a simple
matter that should take a few minutes, but now he was afraid to make
mistakes so he found himself double and triple checking everything. She
added to his nervousness by watching him work and correcting him,
telling him how her place at the table is to be set, correcting his
posture, chiding him for water spots on the silverware etc... At one
point he lost his balance and stumbled slightly on the heels he wore.
She saw this and pounced on him. Grabbing the D ring at the front of his
collar and pulling his face close to hers.
"That is the kind of clumsiness that is unacceptable, not to mention a
pet peeve of mine. If I have to have you pacing the floor in 6 inch
heels for 12 hours a day to prevent that I will."
She jerks on the collar and pulls him a few inches closer.
"Got it bitch?"
Trying not to look nervous he replies, "Yes Ma'am."
A few minutes later while refilling her coffee he accidentally brushed
his skirt against her arm. He hadn't even known about it until her hand
had slipped under his petticoat and grabbed his thigh to stop him from
walking away. Once she had stopped him she grabbed a large patch of skin
from his inner thigh between her forefinger and thumb and squeezed.
"Did you know that you just brushed your skirt against me?"
Trying not to yell out as he held the coffee pot and tried desperately
to stay steady, he just shook his head no.
Squeezing harder she says, "If you ever did that to a dinner guest I
would tan your ass on the spot."
All he can do is nod in agreement and she releases his thigh.
She finishes her breakfast, then lingers as he clears the table and
washes any dishes that have accumulated. Once finished he moves on to
collect the laundry while she moves to the living room. He is separating
the clothes when she comes up behind him. He doesn't know she's there
until he feels the chain drawing his wrists to the small of his back.
As she clips the chain to his collar he can hear her say, "Your seams
aren't straight, bitch."
He lets out a whimper, aware that he's about to be punished. Lifting his
petticoat with one hand then grabbing the chain halfway between his belt
and his collar she holds him at arm's-length. Keeping the firm grip on
the chain, she pushes him to his knees.
"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?"
The memory of his earlier punishment is fresh in his mind and he
trembles slightly. His voice breaks as he replies, "I'm sorry ma'am,
please I'm just learning and I promise to do better. Please understand."
He sounded sincere to her so she holds him there for a moment, watching
him tremble. To her surprise, as much as his, she releases the chain
then unclips the chain from his collar.
Stepping back away from him she says, "Go straighten them, then you
better learn to keep them straight."
He hurries to his feet and heads for the bathroom as she turns away
muttering to herself that she must be getting soft.
He returns from the bathroom oddly thankful for having not been
punished. He can feel her eyes on him as he continues to work on the
laundry and it makes him nervous. After watching him for five or ten
minutes she stands and takes a slow stroll past him as he continues to
separate the laundry. She stops a few feet away from him and with arms
folded in front of her.
"I need some fresh air so we're going to take a walk and chat a bit. Let
me know once you get the first load started so we can get ready to go."
And with that she stepped out of the room and into the garage. His mind
raced and he wondered just how he was going to go for a walk, especially
dressed as he is.
She had returned within a few minutes and asked, "Haven't you started at
all?"
To which all he could reply was "No ma'am, I'm sorry."
He doubled his efforts then started the first load after which he
approached her to let her know.
She stood and motioned for him to follow her as she walked out to the
garage. Walking over to the wheelchair sitting by the door she grabbed
the long trench coat that was draped across it and waved him over to the
chair. Stepping behind him she held the coat up so he could slip his
arms into it. Ordering him to place his hands on the chair handles she
then secured his wrist cuffs to the chair with a padlock on each handle.
Pulling the sleeves of the oversize coat over his hands and pulling the
coat closed in front she steps back to check the length.
"That's just about perfect; the hem is just barely sweeping the ground.
Now, about your face..."
She exits the room, quickly returning with a large scarf and bolero hat.
She wraps the scarf around his head, tying it beneath his chin, then
places the hat upon his head. Stepping back and looking him up and down
she smiles.
"Perfect!"
She says as she moves to sit in the wheelchair. Once seated she holds up
a two foot long stick with a steel cap on the end.
"Don't give me a reason to use this... You do know what it is don't
you?"
He was still having trouble coming to grips with the fact that she was
taking him out in the middle of the day, and so he replied, "No."
without really taking a close look and without thinking.
"Tsk, Tsk," she clucked. "This is what's called a hot shot, a.k.a. a
cattle prod. And I should introduce you to it right now but I don't want
this walk to start out on the wrong foot. Especially since you feel you
no longer have to address me as Ma'am."
His stomach jumped into his throat when he realized his error and he
began to apologize profusely, telling her that his mind was elsewhere.
"Yes, well I've noticed that about you, and it is something we need to
address."
Clicking the remote on her key chain, the garage door opens. "OK then,
let's go. At the end of the driveway you want to turn right, then the
park is just about six blocks up from here."
The click of his heels echoed in the driveway as he made his way to the
end, then turned right and began walking down the sidewalk. With that
long coat, scarf and hat it appeared to any observer as someone pushing
the wheelchair for somebody else. He lets out a sigh at the prospect of
walking six blocks there and back in these heels, but resigns himself to
it. They had gotten only partway up the block when she tips her head
back to look at him.
"We need to talk, you and me. Now this is 100 percent off the record
until I say so. Speak freely and without fear of any repercussions. So
if there's anything you need to say about any of this, I would speak
now."
There was a short silence as she continued. "You know, things aren't
going to get any easier. And we can't continue as we have been or else
you'll end up spending your whole life in service, so what's the story?"
His voice cracks and he takes a second to compose himself. "Ma'am, I
hadn't expected all of this. I especially have issues with how long you
expect me to serve, are you really going to hold me to that? I mean, I
didn't sign up for all of this."
At this point she felt she had to chime in. "On the contrary, this is
exactly what we had discussed. Didn't you say that you wanted to feel
helpless and forced? Have I violated any of your rather short list of
limits? You also made it quite clear that you were looking to serve and
that the thought of "getting in over your head" excited you. Didn't
you?"
"Yes, but Ma'am I hadn't expected you to be so harsh."
She pauses a moment before answering. "That is just a means to an end,
the end being that you wanted to be trained as a proper, formal
maidservant. Besides it's you that determine how harshly I react. Much
like it's your own actions that extended your service. It was quite
clear what was expected of you. I guess it might be understandable that
you were dishonest with me about your job at first, but I gave you time
to come forward and you didn't. And then you did it again by trying to
leave in the middle of the night by using my keys. You knew what
happened before and I'd made it quite clear what the penalties could
be."
They walk in silence for some time until he speaks up again. "I really
didn't expect all of this, from the length to how harsh to the level of
control or enforcement to this."
She quickly replies, "You stated your limits."
He counters back, slightly annoyed/ "Well then I guess that I overstated
my limits. I guess I let the excitement get to me and got caught up in
the moment."
She shakes her head... "No, No, No... You had a full week to think about
this and to back out, so you can't call it caught in the moment... And I
doubt that I've done anything to you that hasn't been done before,
except maybe I'm a bit more intense."
He stops pushing the chair abruptly and angrily says, "Irregardless,
like I said... This is all just too much for me and I don't want it
anymore." He's greeted with silence until he begins to push the chair.
"Well, what can we do about it now? I believe that your biggest problem
is acceptance. Once you accept the position you've chosen, things will
be much better. I have a few methods/ tools to help you accept your
position, except most of them violate your limits in one way or another.
One thing for certain is I'm not allowing you out of the deal. I've been
looking for a long time for someone like you, and you fit perfectly. I
have invested way too much time and effort, and I can guarantee you that
at this time next year you'll be right here. Even if I have to take you
to court over the lease I've prepaid, or have the bail bondsman come and
kidnap you, I will do it. Then I will make your life hell for a long
time afterwards. Try to break away from me a second time and all bet's
are off, no limits and you're fair game. You have no right to bitch
about this. You yourself said that at worst you have to endure an
unpleasant situation but at least you would be purged of the fantasy and
if you didn't try this during your life you know you would regret it."
Next he spoke up. "Ma'am, I don't think that all I need to do is accept
this. Really, I don't think I can do this."
"But you will..." she replied. "There is a little get together at my
friends club that I've been asked to attend, perhaps I can turn it into
a little warning\demonstration, mainly to show you a fraction of what
you can expect if you try to bail on me. I'm just offering the ideas and
methods of acceptance as a way to help you not get in a situation you'll
regret. Just let me know if you want to hear about them... Is that all
you have to say? Anything else you would like to talk about? Well, if
you think of something soon, let me know..."
She continues... "One other thing I wanted to discuss was how much
better it would be for you working at the club. That would be the best
for all involved. Then again my friend is right about you needing some
level of acceptance and discipline before you could manage the club. If
you could work there it would be guaranteed employment at what you make
now, except you would only have to work 4 days a week, plus profit
sharing and a flexible schedule to some degree. If you get work on the
outside you'll still be expected to serve 25-30 hrs a week on top of
your regular job, which makes for a busy week."
He shakes his head at the thought of that and speaks again. "That's
another thing, I feel I was misled by the wording that was used on the
contract. It wasn't pointed out to me that the hours listed on the
contract were a minimum I would be asked to serve, with no limits on the
maximum. That's just not fair."
She thought for a moment. "No, it's not fair but remember this is a D/s
relationship, it doesn't have to be fair but you do need to accept it.
Because if you don't you're going to do something stupid. Now you could
be done with this in five years, have the experience of a lifetime as
well as save quite a bit of money. But if you think that you can avoid
this or somehow get out of this, you're wrong. Put it this way, you only
have two other options. One is to move out of the state and hope I don't
find you. Of course you'll have to leave your house behind for 10 years
because you can't sell it with an open lease. The other option is to go
to the police. But I'm really not sure what they would do. I know that
if there were any charges filed that we would end up in court. And I
can't imagine a more interesting trial. I doubt that you would do
either."
There was another long period of silence, during which he pondered his
options and realized that he really had none. But as long as he was off
the record he better try.
"Ma'am, please. I'll pay you for the time and money you have invested in
this and you can find another. Somebody more willing, but I just can't.
Please, please I want out."
Upon hearing this she chuckled, tipping her head back. "You see, therein
lies the rub. I'm sure I could find a more willing subject if I wanted,
but I don't want a willing one. Just like your thrill is being forced,
mine is forcing. I think that you are just about the perfect balance
where you will enjoy parts of this, maybe some parts just
subconsciously. Yet at the same time I can make you feel trapped by
cranking things up a notch. You really do have a lovely look when you're
scared or distressed. So no, I'm afraid you're stuck with the decisions
you have made, and I'm as serious as a heart attack about this. You want
to know how far I can go? Your boy is going to be out of the house in
about 6 years right?"
He answers a meek yes, nervous about where she is going with this.
"Well, I may give you one or two chances... Maybe more. But if you do
something really stupid or push me too far, six years from now I'll have
you sell or rent out your house because you'll become a full time maid,
period. That means foot training to shorten your tendons in your legs so
that you can walk in heels easier. A semi-permanent chastity device,
electrolysis, pierced nipples, corset training combined with forced
exercise to reshape your body, and of course a nice big nose ring. Top
that off with years of psychological conditioning and you would be ready
to rent out to clean my friends houses or anything else I wanted to do
to you. And make no mistake, your terror and suffering would look
wonderful to me. Well I see we're at the park and I believe I've heard
your side as well as said my peace, so we're back on the record. There's
the path so what do you say to once around the park briskly."
1 1/2 hours later he finally heard her say that he should head for home.
His feet were on fire and he was doing his best to use his arms to take
some of the weight off them. But he had to be careful because when he at
first tried it he had accidentally tipped the wheelchair back on two
wheels. This had earned him a taste of the cattle prod and he did not
want another. The trip home was quiet and uneventful and he was oddly
thankful to be back at her house. Upon releasing him from the chair she
told him to sit and rest for awhile which he did greedily. A short while
later she pulls up a chair alongside him at the kitchen table. Grabbing
the keys from her neck she hands them to him, telling him that he can
take off his shoes for a short time if he wishes. He undoes the locks
and sighs as he slips them off. His respite doesn't last long as 10
minutes later she's picking the keys off the table and letting him know
it's almost time to start cooking dinner.
He sighs as he slips the shoes back on then snaps the padlocks back into
place. He stands and turns towards the kitchen and is startled by her
standing right next him.
Her finger draws a circle in the air and as she tells him, "Turnaround,
hands behind your back."
He does this almost automatically and it suddenly strikes him how he
complied without really thinking about it. This scares him as he feels
the wrist cuffs connected behind him. A leash is snapped to his collar
and he's pulled forward yet he stops as quick as he started as she
chokes up on the chain and guides him so that he standing right up
against and facing one of the living room walls. She guides the end of
leash through an eyebolt above his head then draws the leash down,
pulling him onto his toes. The collar constricts his breathing and he
struggles to take the weight off it. As she secures the end of the leash
she pulls his face towards her.
"Before you start dinner there's the little matter of you not addressing
me properly earlier. So let's get this out of the way right away."
And in the blink of an eye she is raising his petticoat with one hand as
she raises the neoprene cane in her other hand. She brings it down
without hesitation on the back of one of his thighs. He yelps then draws
air in through clenched teeth. Before he can protest she lands the cane
again and again. At this point he's squirming on the leash with the back
of one of his thighs on fire. She swiftly steps to the other side and
starts in with the cane again.
He squeals, "Please..."
But by that time she had landed three more blows and is finished.
Dropping the petticoat she brings her face close to his.
"Next time you forget who I am it'll be 10 on each side. Got it?"
He nods his head and she presses him saying, "I can't hear your head
shake."
At which point he meekly replies, "Yes ma'am." unclipping his leash from
his collar she lets him know that it's time to start dinner and that the
recipe is on the stove.
Running his hands down the back of his thighs he can feel the welts
rising as he tries to regain his composure. He looks over at her and he
must have had his face still contorted from the pain. She flashed back a
look at him that made him cringe.
"Do you have something to say?" She snarled at him. "I didn't think so,
now get yourself cleaned up and get started on dinner."
She turns and walks into the living room as he minces into the bathroom
to straighten up. Looking in the mirror he can't help but shake his
head. His mascara had run slightly from what looks like tears, and yet
he doesn't remember crying. Turning to inspect the welts on the back of
his thighs he can feel a few of them are starting to weep. Looking back
at himself in the mirror he thinks to himself:
"What a bitch! What have I got myself into?"
He quickly gets it together and makes his way back to the kitchen. She's
lounging on the couch and doesn't even look over to him when he enters.
He checks the stove for the recipe and sees that he is to make a basic
lasagna. Shouldn't be too hard. As he cooks he tries to his careful as
he can to not get himself dirty. Just before it's ready to come out of
the oven he sets a place for her at the table, and busies himself wiping
counters and rinsing dishes.
She smells dinner cooking and wanders into the kitchen. Looking him up
and down as he stands over the sink. She can see a look of trepidation
on his face as she enters, even though he doesn't look over at her.
Tapping the neoprene cane she had used earlier she says, "I thought I
told you to keep your seams straight, bitch!"
Pointing to his legs as he turns to face her. She can see that look of
nervous fear wash over him and she begins to get excited. He begins to
apologize and is interrupted.
"Your shoes are scuffed, your lipstick is smudged and there are crumbs
on the front of your uniform. What if you had to answer the door right
now? How would that reflect upon me?"
She pauses for him to offer an "I'm sorry Ma'am." then continues.
"Is it that I'm not making myself clear? Or is it that you're just not
trying? Because I know you're not that incompetent. Just look at this
place setting. You were actually expecting me to eat off of this?"
She says and she holds up a water spotted glass and plate.
"Well?" She takes a step towards him, hands on hips. "I fail to see how
you could need more practice or instruction at keeping your goddamn
seams straight. So what is it? Am I not being hard enough on you?
Because I can be much, much harder."
His head had dropped now to his chest under the verbal assault and the
only answer he could give was "No ma'am... I don't know ma'am"
She grabs his chin and pulls his head up to face her. "Now listen up, we
are expected at the club tonight. Now I'm trying to convince my friend
that you are capable of managing the club for me should I take it over.
I expect you to be on your best behavior because if you don't work
there, then you're back to the restrictive latex uniform, for good. Got
it?"
His voice cracks as he says, "Yes ma'am."
And with that she pushes his head to one side as she turns to leave the
kitchen, announcing over her shoulder that she'll be eating in the
living room and that he can serve her there. He stands there shaking for
a moment not quite sure if he should be scared or pissed off, then makes
his way to the bathroom to check himself.
Standing in front of the mirror he brushes the front of his uniform off
as he curses under his breath. He then fixes his makeup and grabbing a
washcloth cleans the smudges and scuffs off of his shoes. Checking
himself once more in the mirror he can't help but shake his head. While
he can't believe that he's gotten himself into such a mess, he also
can't believe that he can feel his sex stir by thinking about it.
Remembering that he has dinner in the oven, he quickly heads back to the
kitchen. Seeing that it's finished he prepares a plate for her, making
sure all the utensils are cleaned. Upon bringing her dinner she
dismisses him to the kitchen, instructing him to eat and then cleanup.
He eats quickly, making sure to occasionally look over the counter to
see if she needs anything. He finishes before her and begins on the
dishes, making sure to clear hers as soon as she is finished.
Having picked up her dishes she can't help but smile as she watches him
walk back to the kitchen. Grabbing the phone, she calls her friend at
the club to see if everything is ready. Chills of excitement run up her
spine when she hears that all is set. Getting up from the couch she
walks over to the kitchen counter and leans up against it, waiting for
him to look up from doing the dishes. Once he does she announces.
"You can finish up those when we get back; right now I want you to go
and put on a less full petticoat, take off the apron and touch up your
make-up. Meet me out here when you're done."
With more than a little trepidation he does as he is told. Based on what
she said, they're going out. He doubts that he will ever get used to
that. Looking at himself in the mirror he doesn't look quite as
fetishistic without the apron and full petticoat, but the collar, wrist
and ankle cuffs are a dead giveaway. He wonders if she will allow him to
take them off, or if he should ask, or for that matter if he even can.
He does a final check then heads out into the living room.
She looks him up and down when he enters, then resting her chin on her
hand she says, "I like the look of the cuffs and collars, but I
understand you may not want to stand out so much." She pauses for a
moment to think. "I'll tell you what, I'll take the collar and the cuffs
off, but you will need to wear your 6 inch pumps with the padlocking
ankle strap. Those ought to stop you from getting anywhere quick." she
says with a laugh.
He pauses to consider the options, but apparently she has already
decided as she tosses the keys for the cuffs to him. He struggles not to
say anything and returns to the guestroom. He knows 5 1/2 inch heels are
his limit for any length of time. 6 inches and he can barely stand
straight, and even then only for 5-10 minutes at a time. He unlocks the
cuffs and collar, then slips the 6 inch heels on. Shaking his head as he
looks at them on his feet he wonders why he ever brought them. He
certainly regrets it now as he closes the hasps on the padlocks that
hold them in place. His toes pinch as he stands unsteadily and struggles
to stand straight. Heading back to the living room he takes short
mincing steps. Although he realizes that it's not as difficult as he
remembered. Constantly being in heels for almost the past week must have
made it a little easier because instead of being tipped forward he is
almost standing straight, but his calves are already aching.
Holding her hand out for her keys, she slips them in her pocket and
turns on her heel towards the door.
"Come along now." She stops at the door waiting for him to open it for
her. Once open she looks directly at him and raises a finger. "Be on
your best behavior. How you act tonight could affect you dearly for
years to come. Am I clear on that?"
He nods and answers, "Yes, Ma'am."
She locks the door behind them, then finds herself waiting for him again
at the car door. He feels exposed, struggling to maintain his composure
in his skimpy outfit. He opens the door for her, then closes it behind
her. He then hurries around to the other side to get in for the short
ride to the club.
They arrive and he notes that she had pulled up and parked behind the
club. Helping her out of the car, he closes the door behind her as she
walks briskly towards the back of the club. He hurries after her, and
it's not until he's out of the glare of the streetlights that he can see
the outline of a door. She knocks and moments later the door opens. He
struggles to keep up with her as she steps inside and almost doesn't
make it before the door closes. Inside is a short staircase down that
leads to a rather large room beneath the club. Much of it contains
supplies, storage and utilities for the club, except for a large area in
the middle of what is essentially the basement.
She points to a spot on the floor just inside this room and says to him,
"Stay!" then walks over to her friend, the club owner who is leaning
against a table on the opposite side of the room. It appears somebody is
lying on the table, but his view is partially blocked and it's dark.
They are discussing something and are fairly animated about it.
She gets his attention and waves him over. As he approaches she takes
off her coat revealing her leather pantsuit and knee high spiked boots.
On the table he can see a man, his ankles strapped to the legs of the
table as were his knees, thighs, lower back etc...
"On your knees." She orders him as she grabs a dildo harness off the
chair next to her, then hands it to him. "Strap this onto me while I
tell you what we have here. You see this boy here used to be my friends
here slave. Then one day he decided to disagree with her in public." She
checks the fit of the harness. Then she hands him a capped jar of icy-
hot. "Take this and stand over there in front of him and just off to one
side please."
He does as he is told, teetering on the heels.
She continues. "Disagreeing was bad enough, but he decided to do it in
front of other Doms and subs. Well needless to say she was quite harsh
on him from that point on." she grabs a very large dildo and snaps it
into place on the harness. "Apparently this was enough to cause him to
go A.W.O.L. and she hadn't heard from him in several weeks. He had been
renting a room from her and had left all his things behind when he took
off."
She walks over to him and motions for him to open the jar as she snaps
on a pair of rubber gloves.
"He finally snuck back apparently to retrieve some of his things, all of
which were still there. Well, all but one really important item. You see
my friend here had removed the doorknob on the inside and replaced it
with a steel cover."
She scoops up a handful of the icy hot from the jar and starts to coat
the dildo with it.
"The next morning my friend had a little rat in her trap." She shakes
her head side to side. "Such deceit, such disobedience. Well, now it's
payback time. After all, she couldn't let him get away with what he did.
Could she?"
She steps back around behind the figure prone on the table, then
instructs him to pass that jar under the nose of this tightly bound
figure. He does this, and the man who had until this point been
relatively calm and quiet, suddenly became animated. He could see the
look of realization in his eyes, then the fear and panic. He watched the
man's body went tense as he began struggling in his bonds, yet could
barely move. The man started to protest through the large ball gag and
shield, yet it sounded totally muffled and he could see a rivulet of
drool slide down his chin. The man on the table finally seemed to focus
on him, standing there before him with the jar in his hand. He screamed
into the gag as she entered him, then looked directly at him as he stood
there holding the jar and lid. He can't help but look away, but when she
sees this she quickly makes it clear that he is to watch.
What he didn't know was that this man tied to the table was a friend of
the club owner. What he also couldn't see was the female condom that had
been placed inside him earlier to protect him from the icy-hot. He was
at most just a little uncomfortable, but you couldn't tell it from how
he was reacting. The club owner steps up to the end of the table and
grabs him by the hair and whispers something in his ear. Just what it
was didn't matter as the real reason was to wipe some irritant just
beneath his eyes so that he would tear up. Then they proceeded to put on
quite a show for him as he stood there holding the jar and watching this
man in agony. Once they were finished with him, he watched as they
released the man's arms from the sides of the table, only to tie them
behind him again, elbows touching. A spandex hood with only a nose hole
was pulled over his head followed by a large canvas sack over his entire
body and tied off at the ankles. A length of rope is tied to a d ring
about 1/2 way up the bag and the other end is handed to him as he stands
there dumbfounded.
She looks at him and says sternly, "Walk this bag of shit out to the car
and wait for me there."
He's confused and wants to ask why, but a sharp look from her sends him
on his way.
As he guides him up the stairs as best he can, he can hear the man in
the bag trying to communicate with him. Once outside and the noise from
the club fades as he begins to make out what the guy is saying.
He's begging to be let go and when there's no response he thinks he
hears him ask. "Didn't you see what they just did to me?"
They arrive at the car and he looks around nervously, hoping that no one
would see them. He hears the man ask him about what they're going to do
to him. He tells the man that he doesn't know, then shushes him when he
sees her approach.
Opening the car doors, She assists in getting there cargo laid out and
buckled down in the back seat, then tosses him the keys saying "Let's
get on I-17 heading north, because we got a package to deliver."
They are only on the road for a short time before he hears pleading
coming from the back seat, and this while he is desperately trying to
focus on driving. If he got pulled over now he would have more than a
little explaining to do. He was about to say something about it when she
spun around in her seat and got up on her knees.
Leaning forward she grabs onto what sounded like his throat, then
started in on him angrily and through clenched teeth. "Listen
motherfucker, you make one more sound or give me anymore trouble and I
can guarantee you that I will make your immediate future much more
difficult. Got it?"
To which he must have nodded a yes because he didn't hear from him again
the whole ride. Later in the ride he does start to ask about just what
it is that they are doing, but is cut short by her shushing him and
pointing behind her.
About 2 hours out of town she has him pull off at a rest area and park
on the far side of it, in an area that's not well lit. He can see a dark
van parked in the area, without plates. She steps out and waves to
someone unseen then heads towards the bathrooms, telling him to come
along.
When they return their package is no longer there and she passes right
by the car and heads towards the van motioning for him to follow. Seated
in the van are 2 men, their chins tucked into their chests and hats
pulled way forward, obscuring their faces. They begin the conversation
by asking if there was anything they should know about this one. She let
them know that he was renting a room above the club and that most of his
possessions could fit in a small closet. He only had one relative in
town, a brother that he never sees and that was about it.
There was a long pause before she asked, "How long do you normally keep
guys like this, and how is it that you avoid getting arrested."
One of the two chimes in. "Well it's hard to say how long we keep them.
Typically once they get comfortable or "broken in" you might say, we
release them. You see our thrill comes from forcing our will upon
others, the more unwilling the better. We've released them in as little
as 3 months and that's about as short as we ever want to go because it
takes 2 months to make sure they're HIV and std free, but we've also had
one almost 4 years. Feisty one that was..."
Then the other chimes in. "As far as not getting in trouble, well our
place is huge and isolated and on fenced land. We've dedicated the whole
basement to our past time and it's set up with concrete walls, no
windows and the entryway is a double electronic gate system. Now our
friend here won't see how he got to our place, and the only part of it
he will see is the basement once he's there. There's also the fact that
He'll never see either of us or our friends without masks or hoods on.
When one of them finally does leave, they don't know where they were or
what whoever held them looks like. Kinda hard to go to the cops with no
information, and probably pretty embarrassing to tell what happened to
them."
She taps on the door as she steps back away from the window and says,
"Sounds like you got it all planned out guys."
Then waves to them as she turns back towards the car. She motions for
him to follow her.
Before the van pulls out one of them shouts out the window to her, "When
are we going to get this one?" and he could see that they were pointing
towards him.
She shouts back to them, "That really all depends on him, hopefully
never."
He crosses his arms in front of him as he shakes off the chill that runs
down his spine, then follows her back to the car.
The silence of the ride home is broken by her. "I think it goes without
saying that you are not to speak a word about any of this. That's for
the protection of all involved, which includes you, now. So if you have
any questions you had better ask them now."
He pauses in thought, then asks. "How many have you sent to those guys
and are they serious about what they said back there?"
She pulls in a deep breath. "Yes, they are real and quite serious.
Sometimes a little too serious for my tastes. I personally have only
sent 2 subs to them. One you already saw, but he got lucky and was let
go after the STD test. The second one I kind of feel bad about, but he
got what he deserved."
He looks over at her, waiting for her to continue.
"Well, he actually was a young kid all of 19 yrs old and I'm not really
sure that he knew what he wanted. He made the mistake of raising his
hand to me and actually hitting me in a group setting. He split my lip
and at that point I really had no choice but to send him off. I had been
having problems with him and it was at a time when I was trying to
establish myself. I had made numerous threats and given many warnings...
The others were starting to talk behind my back."
She paused and he questioned further about why she felt bad about it.
She continued. "Well, I had sent him off and eventually forgot about
him. Then me and my friend had stopped by the guys place almost 2 years
later. Now keep in mind that this kid was quite the homophobe. Wanted
nothing to do with women's clothes or sex with men. They had him in a 4
by 6 black cage in the corner. He was wearing a latex bodysuit along
with a full face hood, and they must have corseted him down to 24 inches
at the waist. There was a large ring that had been run through his
septum and he was tethered to the cage door by a short chain connected
to it. As I walked closer I could see feeding cylinders like you'd find
in a gerbil cage. Except instead of ending in tubes, these ended in
large phalluses.
"All I recognized was a figure in a cage; however he must have
recognized me as he started to ask if I was there for him. As I was
checking him out, his shoes caught my eye. The 6 inch court shoes he
wore were padlocked in place, and yet the placement looked odd. Looking
closer I saw that the hasp passed through the ankle behind the Achilles
tendon on each foot. He must have been pierced there between the tendon
and ankle, allowing each lock to encircle the tendon.
"Getting closer I could hear his voice better and suddenly realized who
it was and that he had been there almost 2 years. He asked again if I
was there for him and I told him no. I stood up quickly and moved away
from the cage to avoid confrontation. When I moved away he began
pleading louder and when I turned away from him he let out a squeal and
began begging loudly. This quickly brought the attention of one of the
guys, who grabbed a full size cattle prod from the wall. He tapped him
with it and the figure in the cage collapsed to the floor, then he
rested the prod on him making him thrash around.
"I cringed a bit at the sight of this and he removed the prod from the
cage. Setting the prod down as the figure twitched on the floor, he let
me know that I shouldn't be too concerned and that had this one listened
a bit better he would have been released long ago. As it was he was
scheduled for release in 2 months, except now he had added at least 3
maybe 6 months to his time here."
She paused for effect and to judge whether or not he was buying the tale
of fiction she was weaving. Seeing his face in the mirror she could tell
he was so she continued.
"But that's their thing, it's what gets them off."
He looked over at her and asked. "So you felt bad about taking him
there?"
She chuckled a bit. "I felt a little sorry for him, but it was his own
fault he was there." She shook a finger at him. "Don't think for a
minute that I'd hesitate to send you off... You actually saw one that I
had sent and I have no remorse about it. You make your bed, you lay in
it."
He swallowed hard and returned his eyes to the road, but his mind kept
racing.
He turned to her again and asked, "So they rejected one for testing
positive for a STD?"
"Yeah, everyone gets tested and any newcomers are isolated until they
get the results. Of course once they test clean, they know they'll stay
clean. That way nobody has to worry about condoms or any other exchange
of fluids, so basically anything goes."
They settled in for the long drive. He kept going over the events of
tonight. The scent of icy hot lingered in the air and each time he
thought about it he had to shake the chill from his back. He couldn't
imagine how much that must have hurt. Even worse, he couldn't get over
how much she enjoyed it, smiling the whole time while that man laid
there screaming. She meanwhile was studying him. She could see the
concern grow then fade on his face and how he occasionally trembled. She
rolled around in her head how to further mentally trap him, as well as
what to do physically.
She knew she had to keep clear in her mind what was basically a mixture
of truth and illusion that he believed his situation to be. She knew she
was probably being a bit too hard on him mentally, but dammit, she
wasn't about to let this one go. He was damn near perfect. None of the
others came close. The pain slut trannies just enjoyed it too much and
couldn't be molded by fear of punishment. Others bolted right away,
didn't show at all or were wimps, or if they did they looked no better
than gorillas in pantyhose.
She could tell that none of this would damage him mentally, at least not
too bad. Some of it he liked, some he will learn to like and if it looks
like he is becoming comfortable in his position she can always turn
things up a notch if she wishes. She smiles as she pictures him standing
slightly pigeon toed in front of her in his maids outfit, head down to
show subjugation and that worried look on his face. So far he believes
that she has leased a room in his house, and that she has proof of
payment for the next 5 years. That's quite true and is actually a pretty
powerful tool. She also has several copies of the file folder she
assembled on him to protect her legally as well as for leverage. These
have all of their correspondences, the contract he had signed as well as
the video of him signing it to show he wasn't under duress. The pictures
of him posing with her leatherman friend and that handwritten note
explaining that if anybody saw him being kidnapped that they weren't to
worry and that it was just a kinky role-playing game.
All of that was true except for her leather friend really had no
interest in him and probably wouldn't do anything illegal to bring him
to her, but he sure would try to intimidate him. He also believes that
she has a bail bondsman on retainer and deposit to retrieve him should
he stray. The reality being that while she did go and talk to a friend
of a friend about it, he just seemed a bit too shady for her. She
assures herself that she will set something similar to that up; she just
hasn't found the time or the right connections. He believes that she is
capable of caning a man bloody or raping him anally with icy hot, both
illusions because while she isn't quite that harsh, she wants him to
believe she is. Of course, the people they met tonight are just
illusions, faked by her with the help of some friends. Yet they're as
good as real when it comes to their effect on him, she just had to be
careful.
His head spun from the thought of being delivered to the characters they
had just met. That was just too much and he wanted none of it, and yet
it seems like it didn't take much for the others. He rolled over his
situation and his options in his head. One was to try and leave, but
what then? He now realizes that leasing her a room in his house wasn't
as benign as he once thought. She had legal rights to access his house,
enforceable by the courts. Even if he could convince a court to break
the lease, he would still be on the hook for 5 years worth of payments.
That's $30,000, and not only did she have receipts for that much, she
had cancelled checks from her bank account that were deposited to his
account, then returned to her by way of untraceable cash.
Even if she didn't come at him using the lease, there's not only her
leather friend who seemed quite willing to help her. Even worse were the
bondsmen she had retained. While he at first found it difficult to
believe she could find someone willing to kidnap and return him to her,
she did mention something about a $20,000 retainer and money is a great
motivator, especially if you're given a file folder that contains
documentation showing it's just a game. He has no doubt that she would
pursue him and that leaves only 2 ways to leave. One being to grab what
he can carry and disappear, leaving his house behind and unable to sell
it for at least 5 years. Even then, there's always the chance that she
might find him. He can only imagine what she would do then, but he has
seen what she is capable of. The only other way to leave would be to go
directly to the authorities, but he knows damn well he will never do
that.
He could see it now... "You see officers, I approached her via email and
begged her to turn me into her maid. I of course provided all my own
clothes and even signed a contract to serve, but now I don't want to
play anymore and I want you to keep her away from me." That ought to go
over well.
So he couldn't leave which left only one option, to stay. After all, he
was living out his fantasy of being totally subjugated by a strict
dominant, but this was a bit much. The thought of it stirred his sex.
The trouble is living up to her expectations. At the rate he was going
it wouldn't be long before it was him in the bag in the back seat. He
remembers her saying something about helping him, that there was ways to
avoid the worst of things.
He turns to her and says, "Ma'am, I don't want to ever be that guy in
the back seat. You said there was something you could do for me to
accept my position. Could you explain?"
She takes a deep breath, taking a long pause to let him twist on the
hook. "I could, but I'm not sure you would be willing to go through with
any of the techniques. I'll make a deal with you though. If you agree
that you will go through with any of the three right now, I'll take
sending you away off the table. It will no longer be an option."
She pauses, expecting an answer.
"Well?"
He's somewhat surprised and asks, "You want me to commit without hearing
what they are?"
She chuckles. "Of course! Either you want to or you don't."
He begins, "But Ma'am, you can't..." and is stopped mid sentence by a
hard slap to the face.
"Questioning my judgment are we? Telling me I can't do something? You
just sit there, drive and think about what you want to do. Just come up
with a decision before we get home."
She turned away from him and looked out the window.
He drives deep in thought. This whole thing has gotten out of hand, but
he believes that she is quite serious about it. He has his doubts that
he can perform or live up to her expectations and he also doubts that
there's anything she could do worse than send him off like the guy they
just delivered. When he thinks about the fact that she could send him
off anytime during the next 5+ years, he realizes the decision is a no
brainer, but he also starts to get mad.
Sure he wanted to feel helpless and controlled, he wanted the real deal.
But he had agreed to a couple months, not years. He shouldn't even be
here, yet alone having to decide this crap. He clenched his teeth and
gripped the wheel tighter.
"Okay. Ma'am, I'll do it. Just so we're clear though, this means that
under no circumstances will I ever be sent away to those friends of
yours, right?"
She nods. "That's right, and just so we're clear, you understand that
whatever method you choose to help you accept your position may change
you psychologically?"
He thought about it for a moment. Mentally, he was one of the strongest
people he knew. He nods and says, "Yes Ma'am."
She clears her throat. "Well, about your choices. The first method we
have actually tried, just without the resolve required on my part. It
involves what could be called 'breaking' you, that is taking you to the
extreme in subjugation, degradation and pain and maintaining this long
enough to simply break your will. This would mean you would be back to
your strict posture/isolation uniform. Regularly scheduled corporal
punishments that would bring you to tears several times a day and those
tears would be sincere. Of course there would be no letting up or
negotiating and any complaints would simply result in harsher treatment.
If you complain too much I'll just install a breathing tube in your
hood. This would continue as long as I felt it appropriate and I'd
probably add another 2-4 weeks just for good measure. The trouble with
this method is the fact that it may be psychologically damaging and may
leave you a mere shell of a man. Besides, that's not what I want in a
slave.
"Another method that I've considered is based on Pavlov's work.
Basically you would be conditioned to be sexually excited by images of
yourself dressed, serving and generally being submissive to me, but
here's the catch. While that may not sound so bad, I could also
condition you to dislike mainstream vanilla sexual images. The method of
doing this is another catch though. You would spend 4 hours a day bound
to a chair in front of a video monitor. Electrodes would be attached to
your balls and inner thighs and a vibrating sheath would be fit over
your sex. The screen would be blank, or filled with what I want to be
negative images for 10 minutes. During this time the electrodes would
give you a painful shock at irregular intervals. Then for the next five
minutes the screen would be filled with images of you serving me, being
punished or any other image I want to reinforce as positive. During this
time the sheath would vibrate to stimulate you. Eventually you would be
trained to associate pleasure and pain with corresponding images.
Careful though, who is to say that I wouldn't put 10 minutes of Playboy
during the pain cycle, followed by five minutes of hard-core gay male
porn during the pleasure cycle? Needless to say this type of therapy can
cause permanent changes in your personality."
He can't help but be concerned by his choices, the first two of which he
wants nothing to do with. She sees his concern and does her best to hide
a smile.
She pauses for dramatic effect before continuing, "The other option
would be to have a pager type unit that could be locked onto you and
allow me to page you at any time regardless of where you were and make
sure that you were being loyal to me." And with that she turned to face
forward and asked, "Well, what your decision?"
He thinks to himself that that last one seems a bit too easy and vague.
He knows that there is a catch, but he wonders what it is.
"Can you tell me more about this paging device? What exactly does it
do?"
She looks over at him and says, "Honestly, I couldn't tell you. This was
something a previous sub of mine only recently finished making for me.
The one thing he does say is that it would ensure my subs loyalty. Other
than that all I can say is that it acts much like a pager. This guy is
some kind of electronics whiz and he just recently sent it to me. I
haven't even opened the package."
She settles back in the seat and sighs. "Well, you think about it and
give me an answer before we get home. If not, I'll choose one for you."
Staring forward his frustration grows. "Excuse me Ma'am, but this hardly
seems like a choice, and certainly not enough information to make one."
His statement is greeted with silence.
"Can I at least wait until I have more information about this pager?"
Again silence.
"Ma'am?"
She slowly turns and casts him a cold stare. "I told you to decide and I
fail to see what it is that makes you think this is up for debate. You
have plenty of information. Put it this way, let's assume the worst
about the pager. The worst I can think is if it worked like a pacemaker.
One call and I stop your heart. Period. Or maybe it just allows me to
track you. If you take the option of being broken then I'm going to
bring you to tears as soon as we get home and I'll keep you there for at
least 36 hours, just for a start. Of course you'll go back to your
restrictive dress code for at least the next 3 months.
"Lastly if you choose to be conditioned you can expect to be in the
chair for 4 hours a day for at least 3 months, probably more depending
on how you take to it. The shock it gives can be quite nasty and I've
seen it bring some pretty hardcore pain-sluts to tears. I've never
actually used it to condition a sub before, but I know people who have.
I've seen subs before and after and all I can say is it changes you, and
I don't know if you can ever go back."
She turns away from him again, watching the scenery roll by as a slight
wry smile passes over her face.
Meanwhile he is gripping the wheel with white knuckle intensity. He
realizes that all of his choices suck and he has the feeling that she is
guiding him towards the pager, and he doesn't want to do that,
especially if that's what she wants. Yet the other options sound worse
than anything he can imagine that the pager would do. He shakes off a
chill as he remembers that restrictive uniform. He couldn't take it for
a couple days, yet alone months. Then there's the conditioning, and
there's no way he's going to do that. He's read a little about this type
of conditioning and the changes are profound. She could condition him to
the point that he would beg to become a permanent fixture around here
and he's not putting himself in that position. He thinks about all
that's happened and how he was brought to this point and he starts to
become angry. Time passes quickly and then he sees the sign for the exit
to her place.
"This isn't right." he says, and she just turns to look at him. "It's
not, you know. I told you that I was looking to serve and be helpless,
but for only a few months. Now you're going to try to keep me for five
years? That's just not right, as a matter of fact it's bullshit. Just
like these choices are bullshit. I mean, two of them are so bad that I
wouldn't choose them which leads me to think that you're steering me to
the third, which you won't tell me anything about."
There was a pause where they both just stared at each other.
"This sucks and it's not right and you know it."
He turned forward, hands white knuckle tight on the steering wheel.
Meanwhile she just sat there staring at him, her face becoming flush.
Folding her hands on her lap and turning back forward she takes a deep
breath and calmly asks, "Are you finished?"
To which he replies, "Why don't you tell me?"
She clears her throat, "OK I'll tell you. Remember that you came to me
and you asked for this. It just so happens that I wanted it also. I was
quite specific and made it clear that it was a very serious thing when I
asked you what your limits were and nothing we've done has broken any of
those limits, including the length of service you are now committed to.
It would've been a simple thing for you to include in your limits a
maximum length of service. Had you done so I may have reconsidered
choosing you. You are the one who wanted to feel helpless and trapped.
You even stated how you didn't want to go to your grave with regrets
about having not tried this.
"Well guess what, now you've got it. Like it or not this is your reality
and it will happen. But I can't believe that you're complaining about
it. I know there's plenty of submissives out there who would give
anything to be in your position. Things in your life have fallen into
place that have given you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you
bitch about it. I'll tell you what, since you think I'm trying to steer
going with all three. So what will it be? Going once... Going twice..."
He pounds the steering wheel in frustration.
"I'll give you one last chance to choose. You better make it quick
though because I'm seriously considering…"
He snarls, "OK, OK. The pager dammit!" Through clenched teeth.
She stares him down for a moment that sits back in her seat without
saying a word.
The remainder of the drive home is silent. Thoughts race to his head so
quickly that he has a hard time holding onto any particular one, whereas
she sits steaming but trying not to show it. As soon as they arrive home
she clips his wrist cuffs behind him and orders him to face the corner
on his knees while she goes to retrieve the package the pager was sent
in.
She smiles to herself as she looks over the contents of the package and
reads the enclosed instructions. She then announces to him that this is
something she can take care of first thing in the morning. Setting the
package aside she stands and walks toward him until she is right behind
him.
"Now then, you seem to have developed quite the mouth on you bitch.
Let's teach you a little lesson. Stand up!"
She helps him up by grabbing his bound wrists and guides him to the
center of the living room. Pulling down a rope and clip from above she
connects it to his wrists then steps over to the wall. Pulling the
opposite end of the rope she watches his hands go up as his body tips
forward. She continues to pull until he lets out a squeal, then she ties
it off. Slipping into the bedroom she returns with an inflatable gag in
her hands. She roughly stuffs the gag into his mouth and tightens the
straps around his head.
Grabbing the bulb she begins to pump the gag full as she asks him. "So
you think it's OK to disagree with me? Or raise your voice at me? You do
realize that being able to speak is a privilege don't you?" She
continues to pump until he squeals once again, then adds another full
squeeze for good measure.
He feels as if his jaw is about to snap as the bulb fills his mouth. His
arms are already killing him from being drawn up behind him. He hears
the click of her heels approaching and cranes his neck to see. Panic
grips him when he sees the buggy whip in her hands.
He starts to squirm on the end of the rope as she asks, "You don't mind
if I use this, do you?"
All he can do is grunt into the gag.
"Okay, I'm going to assume that no response means no problem."
She raises the long thin rod whip and lands it square across his as
cheeks. His vision goes white from the pain that streaks through him and
he's sure she has split his ass open. The first strike is followed by 2
more in quick succession as he sways on the end of the line, jerking
fruitlessly. She pauses as she walks a long slow circle around him.
"Now, I want you to tell me when you think you've learned your lesson,
okay?"
He struggles to understand what she just said to him.
"Otherwise I'll just keep going until my arm gets tired."
Raising the whip again, this time she starts in on the back of his
thighs. He tries to scream, but the gag and the frequency of her blows
prevents him from drawing enough breath. What sounds he does make escape
the gag as distant grunts. As he struggles to escape the searing pain of
the whip his feet slip out beneath him and his full weight ends up on
his bound arms. The pain seems to force the breath out of him and this
is the last thing he remembers as he dangles by his arms.
She could hardly believe that she had made him pass out from the pain,
yet she decided that she should take advantage of it. She lets him down
looks over the instructions and other documents that were sent with the
pager, she picks up the phone to call her nurse friend. Luckily her
friend is there and awake, even though it's now early morning. With her
friend on the way, she goes over the list of items she will need in her
head, then readies them while she waits.
He awakes groggy and disoriented, his senses slow in coming to him. He
quickly realizes he's bound and opens his eyes to see where he's at. He
can see he is in the guest bedroom, bound to the bed at all four
corners. He lays there staring at the ceiling trying to remember when it
was that he passed out.
Moments later she steps into the room a wide smile on her face. "Good
morning sleepy head! I do hope you slept well." She says as she pulls
the sheet off of him. "Well, what do you think of your latest
accessory?"
He looks down slightly panicked, other than scratches, marks and bruises
he can see nothing wrong. He looks at her puzzled and she smiles wider.
"You probably can't see it from there can you. Here let me show you."
She reaches up and undoes one of his wrist restraints, then hands him a
mirror.
"Now see there, just at the top of your scrotum. That stainless steel
ring there?"
He nods yes.
"What you feel are small stainless steel rods that run through several
new piercings you have, from one side of the ring to the other. The ring
itself is a small paging unit and several lithium batteries. The device
is actually quite simple. It works just like a pager. All I have to do
is dial its number and enter a code to turn it on or off. By on I mean
that it discharges the batteries into a circuit that the rods form,
basically causing a short circuit. This causes the rods to become quite
hot, quite fast. I figure it would be a matter of seconds before they
would burn through your spermatic cords, effectively castrating you
while probably doing enough damage to prevent them from being repaired."
She pauses for effect and to watch his reaction, which she delights in.
"That means that if you decide to disappear, I can make you pay a dear
price, and I can do it anywhere within the continental United States. Of
course any attempt to remove it without paging it and giving the shut
down code will result in it going off and discharging the batteries into
the rods... Now then, it's about time for you to get dressed and start
making breakfast. Proper uniform please. I would like a French maid this
morning. Fishnets and full petticoat along with your 6 inch spikes. Use
your free hand to free the rest of you and I'll expect you to be ready
and making breakfast in 45 minutes."
He lays there stunned, staring at the ceiling and fondling the ring with
one hand. He shakes it off, unties himself and sits on the edge of the
bed, staring at himself in the mirror. He tries to focus on this
situation but can't quite seem to; he's not even sure how long it's been
since she left. He steps to the closet and grabs one of his uniforms as
well as his 6 inch heels, then heads directly to the shower. Stepping
under the water he quickly showers and shaves then begins applying his
make up.
As he checks himself in the mirror he thinks that his best bet now would
be to please her and approach her later about ending this. Slipping on
the corset, uniform, stockings and heels he checks himself in the
mirror. Realizing he's forgotten the ankle and wrist cuffs, he teeters
back to the guest room to find them. He sees them in their usual place,
right on top of the dresser. The locks open and the keys nowhere in
sight. Sitting on the edge of the bed he slips the cuffs on and locks
them in place. Checking himself one last time in the mirror, he minces
out into the living room/kitchen area.
She is resting on the couch and although she sees him enter out of the
corner of her eye, she continues watching the television. He stops at
the edge of the living room and stands at attention, mentally checking
himself as he places his feet together as close as possible without
touching and making sure they're even across. Standing as straight as he
can, he clasps both hands together behind his back then waits for her to
acknowledge him.
She chooses to let him stand there for a moment before making eye
contact and asking, "Yes?"
He clears his throat nervously before asking "What am I to make for your
breakfast Ma'am?"
She leans back and thinks a moment before replying. "2 eggs over easy,
bacon, hashbrowns and an English muffin with butter and jam. You can
also bring me coffee as soon as possible."
He nods his head in acknowledgment then turns towards the kitchen,
headed directly for the coffee pot.
Busy now making breakfast for her, he has little time to think about his
situation. She keeps an eye on him from the living room. When the coffee
is ready he brings it to her along with a coaster. Careful not to spill
it he sets the coaster down then the cup of coffee on top of it. He
takes a step back and pauses almost as if he's waiting to be corrected.
With a wave of her hand she sends him back to the kitchen. He then
focuses on preparing her breakfast, setting the table as he cooks. Once
fully prepared he sets the plate on the table and steps into living
room. Standing at full attention he waits for her to acknowledge him
then announces that breakfast is served.
He is standing at the edge of the table as she steps into the kitchen,
pauses for moment, then takes a seat. Looking at the plate of food she
turns to him.
"Apparently you don't think I'm important enough to pull the chair out
for. We'll have to show you just how important I am a little later."
Picking up the fork then the knife she turns them in her hand,
inspecting them.
"You also feel that I don't deserve properly cleaned silverware either.
Place your hands flat on the table right here." She says, pointing to a
place right next to her.
Placing his hands flat on the table next her, he winces as she moves the
butter knife over them, bending the tip back with one finger. He cries
out in pain as she raps the knife across the back of his knuckles on one
hand then the other, but doesn't move them from the table.
"Now give me some orange juice and make it a clean glass."
He places the glass before her having already checked it for water
stains. He then pours the juice, spilling none. He takes a step back
then pauses when he sees her signal for him to wait. She sits back in
her chair and takes a long drink of the orange juice, then turns to him.
"You need to be a little more careful and pay a little more attention to
what you're doing. Just now when he poured this juice you brushed your
petticoat up against me again. Sloppy, careless, and unacceptable. Would
you do that and embarrass me if you are serving a dinner party I'm
hosting? You had better learn to focus on the task at hand. For now why
don't you just stand at attention at the end of the table and think
about how you're going to do better."
He minces to the end of the table and placing his feet properly he
stands at attention. The time moves slowly as she eats her breakfast.
Trying to relieve the stress building on his feet he shifts his weight
slightly onto one foot. She catches the motion in the corner of her eye
and verbally pounces on him.
"Is that how we stand at attention?"
Pushing herself away from the table she quickly steps to him. Looping
her finger into the "D" ring at the front of his collar she pulls him to
the corner of the living room. Clipping his wrist cuffs together before
spinning him so that he's facing the center of the room, she points a
finger a few inches from his face and says "Stay!"
Seconds later she rounds the corner twirling a pair of clover clamps at
the end of a rope. Standing directly in front of him she reaches up to
the shelf mounted in the corner and threads one end of the rope through
the eyebolt extending from the bottom of it. This she pulls tight until
he is standing as straight as he can to avoid the pain from the clamps
pulling at his nipples. Once finished she simply turns away from him and
returns to her breakfast.
She eats slowly and the clamps dig into his flesh. His feet begin to
ache from the heels as does the rest of his body from straining to keep
the tension off the clamps. Finally she stands up from the table and he
perks up, hoping for release. His hopes are dashed as she simply walks
away toward her bedroom. She is gone for what seems like an eternity and
by the time she finally emerges his legs are trembling from the strain.
He looks at her pleadingly but she doesn't even make eye contact. She
simply sits down on the couch and turns the television on, as if he
wasn't there.
Within minutes he begins to whimper from the discomfort as well as to
get her attention. She ignores it for a short while, turning the volume
up on the television as he grows louder. Finally she hits the mute and
looks directly at him.
"Would you like some attention? If you want me to pay attention to you I
have a bunch of weighted clamps I could hang from your nuts. You already
brought yourself more time right where you are, would you like me to go
get them?"
He shakes his head back and forth, knowing she was quite serious and
frightened by the thought of it.
"So you'll be quiet then?"
At this he nods in agreement. She turns the volume backup on the
television and leans back on the couch.
He stands there for what seems like an eternity, yet is actually only 40
minutes. During that time she doesn't even turn her head to acknowledge
him and by the time she rises to set him free his legs are shaking from
the strain. He growls through clenched teeth as she removes the clips
and the blood flows back. Then placing a hand on his shoulder she
pushes, turning him around, then without a word she returns directly to
the couch. He stands there a few moments confused and unsure of what to
do. He looks to her what is meant only with a glare and look that
implies "what the hell are you doing" after a few uncomfortable minutes
he minces towards the kitchen and begins to clean up from breakfast.
He is almost done with the dishes when she steps into the kitchen and
sits at the table. Motioning to the chair next to her she tells him to
place his heeled foot there. Looking it over she shakes her head in
disapproval.
"I don't even need to see the other one. Can you tell me why there's
water spots all over your shoes?"
He pauses for a moment before answering, "Because I was doing the dishes
Ma'am."
She shakes her head side to side. "So it was because you were doing the
dishes and not because you were careless huh? Are you saying that it's
okay to be careless, or that you shouldn't have to do the dishes?"
He begins to stutter an answer but she interrupts him.
"Or maybe you think it's okay for you to wear them like that? Well,
which is it?"
He hangs his head and replies, "I was careless Ma'am."
She stands up and grabs his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. "I
see, so you were intentionally careless even though you know better,
right?"
All he could do was nod his head, and she helped him along with her
hand.
"See me in the living room when you're finished here. And clean up those
shoes before you do!"
He steps into the living room, his mind full of worry about what may
happen.
When he arrives she clips a leash to his collar and heads to the garage
with him in tow.
"We have someplace to go, but let's not forget about your little problem
with keeping your shoes clean." She bends down and attaches a 4 inch
hobble bar between his ankles as she explains. "This works much like a
hobble chain, except it's semi-rigid so it also works as a spreader bar.
This particular one is 4 inches and in order to walk you are going to
have to swing your feet around one another in a semi-circle. It also has
a wonderful effect of making your hips swing when you walk."
She then secures his hands to the chair handles and slips the overcoat
and hat onto him. Settling into the wheelchair she grabs the garage
remote from her pocket and as the door opens she says, "We're off to the
club, I'm sure you remember how to get there."
The hobble felt strange around his ankles and as he brought his foot
forward the hobble pushed it away from his other foot, only to be pulled
back towards center as he stepped forward, and because it was so short
he couldn't really bend his knees. The end result was that he had to
swing the lower half of his body at the hips.
He found it difficult at first but after a while he began to get the
rhythm. However, apparently not soon enough as she was soon chiding him
for his lack of speed and suggesting that she may have him take her on a
stroll through the park again before they head back home. He picked up
the pace as best he could.
When they arrived at the club she rose from the chair. Producing a key
she opened the side entrance and motioned him inside. He was relieved
when she released his hands from the chair handles and stripped off the
overcoat that had been covering him as he had worked up quite a sweat.
Looking around he could see the club was closed, the lights off and all
of the chairs and stools turned upside down. Tossing him the keys she
let's him know that he can take off the ankle hobble now. Glad to be rid
of the thing he thanks her as he hands the keys back to her.
In return he is given the faintest of smiles and she says, "Grab us each
down a chair. Let's rest a moment and have a little chat before I give
you the grand tour."
She has him place the chairs about 8 feet apart facing each other and
she crosses her legs, exposing her upper thigh. His eyes are drawn there
and his sex stirs. He tries to remember the last time he orgasm and is
lost in thought when she snaps him out of it with a question.
"First about your pay. You're on salary at exactly what you were making
before based on your last 2 years taxes, so you'll take home $600.00 a
week like you always did. You will be working here 4 days a week,
Wednesday through Saturday for approximately 8 hrs a day. As I said you
will manage the place for me.
"Now by manage I do hope you didn't think you were going to be the boss.
When I say manage I mean you will keep the books, do inventory, ordering
and payroll. Of course the rest of the time you'll waitress here. You
will be starting at 7:00pm and work until close at 1:00am. Then from
1:00 until 3:00 you shut down, clean, stock and check inventory. You'll
work Wednesday through Saturday, which will put you at about 32 hours a
week. However your job here doesn't excuse you from your service to me,
so during your work week you will be staying with me. You will report
for service every Wednesday at 10:00 am and you will be released from
service every Sunday at 10:00 a.m. This means your daily schedule will
be serving in my home from 10:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m., working at the
club from 7:00 p.m. until 3:00 a.m. Then as long as you are asleep by
3:30 and get your morning routine down to a 1/2 hour, you'll have 6
hours to sleep each night.
"Your standard uniform will be the classic French maids outfit minus the
petticoat. Corset, garters, back-seam stockings and a minimum heel height
of 5 inches. Remember that you will be representing me and so you will
impeccably dressed and made up at all times."
She then proceeded to take him on a tour of the club, giving an overview
of his duties as she went, finally ending back at the wheelchair. On the
way home she continued to give him an overview of his new job and
responsibilities and how nice it was going to be to have him around.
His head was spinning and he was really only catching parts of what she
said. He learned that there were 3 bartenders, 2 females and one male,
and that he was required to listen to them as if they were his employer.
After that he just kind of fell into a trance of disbelief and didn't
snap out of it until her house was in sight...
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