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0 yr 0 mo 11 d
She woke the next day to the door of the room being flung open and all of the lights turned on at once. "Rise and shine!" he shouted. She peered at him balefully through squinted eyes. "Big day today! Time for you to start learning your new routine." He pulled up the curtains, and she could see that it was just barely starting to get light outside. This was the earliest she'd been up since leaving home.
"Stand up. Come on now. Drop that! You haven't got anything I have seen." She had started to keep the bed sheet around her as she stood. Reluctantly, she let it drop. As she thought of her nakedness before him, she realized that already she was starting to feel horny. What was with her?
"Now as we discussed, there are going to be some rules. For now we will start with just two. First, you will not speak unless spoken to. Do you understand rule number one?"
"Yes," she said.
"Yes, sir" he corrected.
"Yes, sir" she said, a smile twitching the corner of her lip, and a mischievous look in her eye.
"Good. Second rule is that unless instructed otherwise, you are to keep your eyes downcast. Do you understand rule number two?"
"Yes, sir" she said, lowering her gaze and still fighting to hold back a nervous smile. She felt silly and a little excited all at the some time.
"Good. Now follow me. I'll walk you through your day," He said, and turned and left the room
He lead her through the house and down into the basement. She'd been down here before. He had it set up as a den for entertaining, with a pool table and that sort of thing. He led her straight over to a wall, and pressing a panel she'd never noticed before, revealed a hidden portal. He began to lead her down the set of stairs beyond it. She was both a little frightened but also very curious now. And, she had to admit, even hornier than before. The mix of emotions was making her jittery, and making her stomach flutter. She also had to pee, her bladder full from the night's sleep.
When they got to the bottom, she saw that they were in a hallway with several doors. Unlike the basement above, which was done in wood paneling and carpeted floors, this hallway was very utilitarian, with a concrete floor and a single hanging light bulb. He went to the first of the doors and opened it, gesturing her in. She peered through the door with growing trepidation. She saw a small room as plain as the hallway, with a single metal framed cot with a thin mattress, and no other furnishings. He grabbed her arm and guided her in, following behind.
"Until I decide otherwise," he said, "this is where you will sleep." Her eyes widened. She didn't like the look of this at all. Even locked in the guest room last night, it had been a comfortable, normal bedroom. He guided her right to the bed.
"Now, kneel down facing the bed," he said.
"But.." she started to say, trying to turn towards him
"You're speaking out of turn," he interrupted, "I'm going to let that slide this time, because you are still learning, but don't push me. I won't warn you too many times before I start to punish you. And you've forgotten to keep your gaze down. Now, kneel down facing the bed."
She quickly lowered her eyes and started to kneel.
"Now lean over across the bed, keep your head forward, and put your hands behind your back."
She found herself starting to comply. Maybe they were about to have sex. She wouldn't mind that. If she got much more turned on, she knew that the smell of her sex would start to become noticeable.
She waited for a moment. She could hear slight noises behind her. She felt as if her pussy were straining backwards, hoping to grab a cock. Finally, something did touch her, but it wasn't a cock. It felt more like a finger smearing something cold and wet on her asshole. Did he think he was going to fuck her in the ass? That hadn't been part of her plans, at any point. She'd never had anything in her ass before, and as far as she was concerned, it had an Exit Only sign on it.
"Hey..." she said and started to turn around. A firm hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"Remember, no speaking out of turn. Now hold still."
Not sure what to do or where this was going, she complied. She knelt there in dread anticipation. She was not going to let him fuck her in the ass. She was not.
Then she felt something against her asshole again, but it didn't feel like a cock. It was something small and round. She felt it start to push in to her ass.
"Hey!" She started to turn again. This time the hand on her shoulder shoved her back down hard. The voice that spoke in her ear was much harsher.
"Stay still and be quite! I won't tell you again!"
This was getting out of hand. This wasn't the kind of sexy little games she'd had in mind at all. What the hell was he doing back there? Suddenly she started to feel something trickle into her butt. Her brow crossed with confusion and her eyes darted back and forth. What was this? As her bowels started to become more full of the liquid, she started to feel really uncomfortable. She started to squirm, to really try to get away. She felt his weight on top of her, holding her down. She was trying to tell him to get the fuck off of her, but all that was coming out were grunts. Her guts were really starting to feel full now. She felt like she had to take the worst shit of her life. Suddenly, the tube pulled from her ass, and his weight was gone. She felt like she was going to explode! There was no way she could hold this in for long.
"The bathroom is the first door on your left," he said with surprising calm as he stepped away.
She came up to her feet as fast as she could while still holding her sphincter shut. She felt like any sudden movement and she would release whether she wanted to or not, but knew that if she took too long it would end the same way. She broke into a half waddle, half trot and shot him an angry glare as she headed for the door. Back in the hallway, she turned left and went through the first door, which was mercifully close. She found herself in a small tiled room that, aside from a metal cabinet and a drain in the center of the floor, was completely empty.
She looked around in panic. Where the hell was the toilet! She couldn't stand up straight, her bowels were cramping so bad. She was trying desperately to hold back, but little squirts of shitty liquid were starting to escape. She saw him leaning casually in the doorway. "Where the fuck is the toilet!" she shrieked. He nodded slightly and pointed at the drain in the center of the room.
She growled in frustration. Then, having no other real choice, she squatted right over the drain and let go.
Immediately a foul stream of liquid jetted out of her ass. Most of it landed in the drain, but some of it splattered around and ended up on her legs and feet. She felt like she was vomiting out of her asshole. Unable to control herself, her full bladder began to empty as well. After what seemed like several minutes, the flow stopped and she felt a great feeling of relief sweep through her. After a few deep breaths to recover, she turned on her host.
"What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you some kind of sick freak?! This isn't what I agreed to, you sick fu...." Her words were cut off with a chocked scream. Suddenly the worst pain was shooting through the back of her neck. It felt like electricity was being shot directly in to her spine. Her teeth gritted and her back arched with pain as she flopped down into her own shit. She spasmed as the pain continued to shoot through her. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain was gone. She lay there quivering and taking great sobbing breaths. She weakly started to push herself up off the shit covered floor, but didn't even quite have the strength yet to make it to her knees.
"I told you that I would not tolerate your rules infractions for much longer. Your rules state that you are not to speak unless given permission, and that you are to keep your eyes downcast unless told otherwise. I have many ways to enforce these rules."
She had managed to prop herself most of the way up by now. She risked a glance upwards. He was still leaning against the doorway in that casual pose.
"There may be a few modifications I made aside from the breast implants and the piercings that I neglected to mention yesterday. One them is a small devise implanted at the base of your skull that inflicts pain with the touch of a button." As he said this he raised one finger over his wrist watch. She shrank back in fear, and was just opening her mouth to beg when he took his finger away and continued speaking.
"I don't intend to use this devise often. I have many more entertaining ways of punishing you. And punish you I will, every time you break a rule. If you misbehave, you will face consequences. If you get through a day without breaking any rules, then I may reward you. However, it's already too late for that today. Why, you're still not keeping your eyes downcast!"
With that, his finger lifted towards his watch again. Quickly, she averted her gaze to the ground, and gritted her teeth, waiting to see if another shock would come. It didn't, and he continued speaking.
"I require that you be cleaned inside and out on a daily basis. Therefore, every morning will start with an enema. Normally, this room with be automated. The door will lock and unlock at certain times of day. Today, knowing that we were likely to hit a few snags, I am controlling it manually. Tomorrow however, this door will unlock at 7:10 in the morning. Also, the showers normally would be automated to start at 7:15. But today they won't start until I turn them on.
Suddenly, she yelped in shock as frigid water sprayed all over her. She hadn't noticed that there were nozzles built into the ceiling like the sprinkler systems used to suppress fires in buildings. She sputtered and gasped and tried to wipe her eyes clear. Over the roar of the sprinklers she heard him again, "You will find soap and shampoo in the metal cabinet over there. And you'd best hurry."
She stood and shuffled to the cabinet as best she could. When she opened it, she found that was mostly empty, but did contain a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. She washed quickly, wanting to be out of this cold as soon as possible. He directed her as she went, ensuring that she was thorough. The soup was rather foul smelling industrial stuff, like what you might find in a cheap public restroom. The shampoo was no better. Finally the water kicked off and left her standing there dripping wet and shivering.
"You may put the soap and shampoo back. Then go stand in the middle of the room."
She did as she was told, and again was shocked, this time by blasts of hot air blowing out of small jets in the walls. In her bowel distressed haste earlier, she hadn't noticed them either. Her face scrunched up as she was buffeted from all directions. It was unpleasant, but effective, as soon enough she was dry over most of her body. Finally, the vents shut off.
"Now, one last thing. Go back over to the cabinet, and take out a douche. I think you know what to do with in."
She went back to the cabinet, and now that she was no longer being sprayed with ice water, she saw that all that was in there was soap, shampoo, and disposable douches. She took one, opened it, and started to squat down.
"No, not there," he interrupted her, 'Come to the center of the room, and face me."
Head down, she turned and started obey. As she walked to the center of the room, a sob briefly shook her. For a moment there, she had been so assaulted by various sensations that she hadn't had time to think. But now, as she walked slowly, the shame and frustration of what she was doing hit her. She felt utterly exposed as she began to squat in the center of the room. Here she was, naked in front of this man, about to douche for no better reason than he had told her to. It was either that or feel that pain again. The fact that what he was forcing her to do was not sexual, but simply an act of hygiene, just heightened her sense of shame. She inserted the douche, sprayed it, and then let it run out.
"On a normal day, the shower will shut off at 7:30, the driers will shut off at 7:35, and the door will shut and lock at 7:38. You must be completely cleaned by then. You do not want me to have to come down here and let you out." She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the clear menace in his voice.
"Now, on to the next portion of your day."
He lead her across the hall and through another door. This was another small room, just a little bigger than the others. There was a small TV with a DVD player connected, a small mat on the floor, and a treadmill.
"This is your gym," he said, "Right now you're young, but I've seen what you do when left to yourself. If you keep sitting around watching TV and eating junk food all day, that hot little body of yours that you're so proud of won't last."
At that, the TV clicked on and she found her self watching a yoga video. At first she just stood there, a little bewildered as the first exercise was demonstrated, but she heard, "Well? Come on!" from behind her and started to imitate the people on the screen. These were beginning excises, but still she felt that they were just slightly beyond her flexibility to do them as completely as the instructor on the disk. It lasted for half an hour, and he explained that the DVD would be on a timer as well, running from 7:40 to 8:10.
"Now," he said, "get on the tread mill." After she did he reached up and picked up two small clips on chains that had been sitting on the treadmill's consul. The chains ran to a thick switch on the control panel. He clipped one to each of her nipple rings, then picked up a set of handcuffs from a tray in the consul and fixed her hands behind her back. He pushed a button and the treadmill woke to life, forcing her into a brisk walk.
"The treadmill will be on a timer as well, running from 8:12 to, well, whenever I program it to stop. However, it won't engage if those clamps aren't on your nipple rings or those handcuffs on your wrists in time, and it will send a signal to me. Again, something you don't want to have happen. I have the pace and degree of incline programed in, so you won't need your hands at all. If you should fail to keep up and fall, those chains will engage the safety switch and stop the tread mill from running. But not before they give your nipples a nasty yank."
He stepped back to watch. She continued on at that pace for a while, just enough to make her a little short of breath. Then, the treadmill started to incline. She had never been much for sports, and her calves started to burn. Her breath was coming quicker now. She had no idea how long she had been on that treadmill, but she wanted off. The incline increased again, this time to a very steep angle. She had to take great lunging steps to keep up. If her nipples hadn't been chained to the thing, she already would have given up. But the last thing she wanted was the feel those rings yank at her nipples. A light sheen of sweat started to coat her.
The pace started to pick up, and she saw the slack leaving the chains. She walked faster, then broke into a light jog. At this angle, she didn't know how long she could keep it up. Her new, sore breasts were jiggling up and down, adding to her discomfort. After what seemed like just a few seconds, the pace picked up even more, and she felt near panic, but mercifully the angle of the treadmill began to decline almost immediately after the second speed increase. Now she was jogging on a level surface, but she was so exhausted from the climb that her breath was now coming in ragged gasps. She hated running, anyways. Her body had been trim not from exercise, but from youthful metabolism. But she had no choice. The treadmill picked up even more, and now she was at a run, breath ragged. Now her tits bounced painfully with each bounding step. She knew, nipple clips or no nipple clips, that she couldn't do this for long. She watched as more and more slack was lost from the chains, knowing that she couldn't go any faster. Just then, the angle started to increase, and she found herself running up hill. She choked in distress. Her legs were burning. She knew they were about to give out. Just as she felt that she was about to lose her balance, the speed started to decrease, though the angle remained steep.
After another unbearably long moment, the treadmill declined, and she found herself at the same flat, brisk pace at which she had began. But now, already out of breath, she found that she just couldn't get it back at this pace. She had no idea how much longer it went on, only that it was sweaty, gasping torture, and that all she wanted was to sit down.
Finally, the machine stopped. She pranced backwards a little, wanting out of the restraints and off this treadmill. He spoke up, "the cuffs and clips will release automatically." She found herself standing there, muscles trembling and sucking breath. Seconds drug to minutes, and still she stood. Finally, as he had said, the clips released from her nipple rings and the cuffs clicked open from her wrists.
"Put the cuffs back in their tray," he instructed, then led her out of the room.
He took her to another door. "This is your dressing room," he said as he opened it. She found herself in another room, this one far less menacing than the others. There was a very normal looking vanity with a nice assortment of cosmetics. It was actually a rather nice vanity, in fact, with a small but fairly comfortable looking chair in front of it. There was a wardrobe, and a small, spartan table. Aside from the table, the rest of the furnishings wouldn't have looked out of place in any young woman's room.
"Normally, at this time of day, you would be getting ready for work. However, today is an orientation day. In fact, you won't start work for another week while you get used to your routine around here. However, I want you to start to get a sense of what it will be like to go to work."
"First, when you enter, you will see the clothes I have selected for you here," he indicated the table, "as you can see, today, there is nothing on it."
He moved to the vanity. "Next, each day, you will find a template here of how you are required to do your hair and makeup. A typical one might look like this." He held up a picture of a mannequin-like woman's face with lipstick and eyeshadow applied, with her hair in an elaborate bun. "However, we won't be worrying about this today, either." He tossed it aside.
"Today, we will be familiarizing you with the other hardware that you will be wearing while out of the house. As mentioned in your contract, I now control your bodily functions. That means I control when and what you eat and drink, when you sleep and awaken, when you piss and shit, and most importantly, when you come."
She felt a shrinking feeling inside. Her sense of helplessness intensified. But at the word "come" she was also reminded of the acute arousal that had been building in her all day.
"Turn around, place your elbows on the table, and spread your legs," he said. She hesitated, afraid of what he would do if she complied. Then she saw his hand start to drift to his watch. She couldn't bare that pain again. So reluctantly she turned and did as she was told.
"Keep your head down," he commanded. She felt his finger on her asshole again, smearing something around in circular motions. He took his finger away. A moment passed, and then she felt something pressing against her anus. It felt larger than the enema tube from earlier. She reflexively squeezed shut her sphincter, but the pressure continued. She gasped as a pain shot up her ass.
"Relax. You're only making it worse," he said. She could feel whatever it was working it's way up her ass no matter what she did. Her eyes were clenched tight and she gritted her teeth. She tried to relax, but it didn't seem to be helping much. It was pushing in further, and as it got in deeper, it got wider. She could feel her ass stretching. Suddenly, it seemed to slide in quite quickly and her ass slipped shut on a much thinner obstruction. She could feel him take his hands away with the object still in place. Her asshole tightened reflexively around it, and it didn't feel painful at all any more, just perhaps slightly irritating. As she shifted a little bit she could still feel the thicker part of the invader bumping up against the insides of her colon.
She heard him rattling around with something behind her, then felt cold metal touch her crotch. As he worked, the metal object seemed to wrap up around her crotch then her waist. She felt him fumbling with something at her left hip, when heard a latch catch. She then felt and heard something similar at her right.
"There," he said, "you can stand up and turn around." She did, then looked down at herself. A metal strip ran between her legs, connecting to a metal band than encircled her waist. "It's a chastity belt," he explained. "It will keep you from pleasuring yourself when I'm not around. You probably wouldn't have a chance anyways, since the boss at your job has been instructed not to give you any restroom breaks. But just in case. Also, it will prevent any other unauthorized use of the facilities. That's a rather small butt plug up your ass, but combined with the chastity belt, it should do the job of preventing you from shitting. It's only an inch wide at its widest. I'm sure that we will eventually be able to work your ass up to wider insertions than that, but that's something for later. And you probably won't want to take a piss in that thing. You could, but that metal band is right over you pussy. So the piss will just spray all over the place. All over your ass, and thighs, and probably out of the toilet on to your legs and clothes. You'll have a hard time cleaning up a mess like that in a hurry. And it will probably mean smelling like piss for the rest of the day. Not that you smell that great anyways."
"Normally," he continued, "you would go to work at this point. But as I mentioned earlier, this is an orientation day. So, how about I show you one of those more entertaining punishments I mentioned earlier?"
He lead her out of the room and further down the hallway, where it ended at one final, heavy looking door. When he opened it the sight of the room beyond made her gasp.
This was the largest room of all. In fact, she had a hard time taking in the full size of it. What few lights there were did little to illuminate its space. And inside were tables and cabinets and constructs of wood and pipe which she didn't even have a word for. None of it looked comfortable, but what was most disconcerting of all were the numerous racks lining the walls, holding all manner of whips, restrains, and implements of pain. Her jaw dropped and she took an involuntary step back, only to find his firm presence behind her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to turn and beg him not to take her in to that room, to promise to be better from then on. But she found herself frozen.
Once again he grabbed her arm and lead her forward. As he did so, he spoke. "Today is the first day, so we will start with something extremely basic. You know, you needn't necessarily fear this room. Punishments will occur here, but also rewards. It will be up to you to decide which will happen most frequently. Either way, you will be spending a lot of time down here."
By now they were approaching a plain and fairly innocent seeming, if sturdy, wooden table. She didn't fail to notice the manacled restraints set at each corner.
"Lay down," he commanded.
Trembling, she crawled up on to the table and half sat, legs curled beneath her and propped on one arm.
"I said down! On your back!" this time much harsher.
Though there was nothing she'd rather do less, she found herself obeying. As she lay down, he seized one of her wrists and set it in one of the restraints. He then repeated the process with her other wrist, then each leg. Next he went to the bottom of the table, where she could see him reach down and begin to turn a crank. As he did so, she felt the restraints pulling slowly in all directions. Slowly they stretched further, at first uncomfortable, then painful. She hissed, and was about to break down and tell him to stop, regardless of that damn watch, when the cranking ceased.
He walked away, and came back a moment latter, holding a leather crop.
"Now, here are the rules of this game. For your infractions earlier, you are going to receive a certain number of lashes. You can scream and grunt all you like, but if you make any intelligible words, I will add lashes to the count."
He then moved to the side of the table. She watched him fearfully, trying to see what he was doing but trying not to catch his eye. She remembered what he had said about keeping her eyes averted, and didn't want to see what would happen if she broke another rule. She was laying on her back. She knew that some perverts spanked people with those things for fun, but he couldn't get to her ass the way she was strapped down. Her dread built higher, wondering about it.
Suddenly he raised the crop and brought it whistling down. It landed with a loud thwap on her stomach. She yelped in pain and surprise, then bit her lip, suddenly determined not to give in. He hit again and again, and she managed to hold back most of the noise. But the hits kept coming, spreading red welts across her stomach. After just a few, she wasn't sure how many, she was shouting out in time with the blows. She was fighting back the urge to start cussing in pain, when he stopped.
"Ten," he said. She breathed with loud gasps, relieved that the ordeal was over, then widened her eyes has she saw him move just a little bit further down the table and raise the crop again. She almost shouted no, but stopped herself in time. Suddenly the crop came down, this time catching her inner thigh. The pain was even worse. She gave a choked gasp. This time there was no holding back. As the blows landed she screamed and cried and it was all she could do not to shout profanities. After five hard strokes, he swiftly walked around the table and repeated the process on the inside of her other thigh. After three cracks she couldn't take it any more.
"Ah! Fuck!" she yelled, and immediately regretted it.
"Oh," he said, "Oh, you are going to learn that no matter how bad a punishment is, it can always, always, get worse. He walked away. When he came back, the first thing she noticed was that he was no longer carrying the crop, but instead a long, thin wooden rod. He raised the rod. "Shall we continue?" he said, and quickly landed three more hard strokes on the inside of her right thigh.
The pain was much worse, and she felt like her skin was splitting. She screamed, but this time said no words. He gave her no rest, marching quickly up to her shoulder level, landing a hard stroke across her still burning stomach as he did so. Then he set to work on her right breast. Two strokes across the top, two across the sensitive bottom, and the last two, hardest of all, right across the nipple. He then walked around the head of the table to repeat the process on her other breast, but this time gave the nipple three hard strokes. He finally seemed to be finished. She was left gasping and sobbing with pain.
"Now," he said, "It's about 8:45. Normally, you wouldn't be home from work until about 11:00. I'm just going to leave you down here until then, to think about what you did. Oh, and since you have so much trouble not talking..."
He bent over and shoved something in to her mouth, then lifted her head and buckled it around the back.
"This is a small ball gag. Very basic. You could probably even be understood around it if you really tried."
"I highly recommend that you don't," he added with a sinister glare. "Enjoy! Oh, and if you are wondering about breakfast, forget it. Don't stick to the schedule, don't expect meals," and with that he walked out of the room, shutting off the lights on his way through the door.
She lay there in the dark, stretched and gasping and sore. She hadn't gotten a good look at her body, but what she had seen before the lights went out had been a mess of angry welts. She fished her tongue around the ball gag experimentally and found that while it was rather uncomfortable, she could move it around some. She decided to risk it. She pushed it as far up as it could go and said, "I'm getting out of here, you sick fucker!" though it sounded more like, "Mm gunnen oua ere, oo shick, uckah."
Her muscles were really starting to ache, and the wood of the table chaffed. She thought back to the series of events that had lead her there. But as she sat in the darkness, she couldn't help but be aware of the steadily growing ache of lust that she felt in her pussy. This, combined with her fear, made her feel adrift and confused.
In the two hours she had to herself alone in the dark, she came no closer to sorting out her feelings. Instead, dulled by pain and exhaustion, her mind wandered to strange ground. Finally, after she had quite lost track of how long she had been strapped to the table, the lights came back on. He stormed across the dungeon and grabbed her by the hair. "You stupid cunt!" he growled, "You couldn't stay quite, even with the gag in. Well, as I told you before, it can always get worse."
With that, he began to affix something to her mouth. She couldn't see it, but it was hard and metal, and once in place it seemed to fit under her teeth and then around the back of her head. He began to turn something to either side of her head, and as he did so, she could hear a clicking sound, and feel her jaws spread further apart. Her eyes began to dart in panic and she made what muffled squealing sounds she could as her jaw stretched painfully wide, to the point of feeling that it was about to break. He finally stopped, and she saw him remove a small key from either side. She strongly suspected that without the keys, there was no way to release this devise.
He then reached behind her head and removed the ball gag. Her tongue could now whip about futilely, but she was even less capable of speech now than she had been before. He began to affix another metal attachment, this one seeming to connect right in front of her open mouth. Once it was in place, he reached inside her mouth with a pair of tongs and grasped her squirming tongue. He pulled it out and held it there as he inserted a key in a different spot and started turning. As he did so, a pair of clamps came down on her tongue right behind her new stud. Once they were secure, he turned a different key and the clamps, anchored behind her tongue stud, began to pull her tongue further out of her mouth, stretching it painfully. When it seemed that her tongue might actually tear, he stopped and removed the key. She now found that her mouth was held open wider that she had ever thought possible, and her tongue was held in place in a painful stretch.
"If you had stayed quite, I would have allowed you the relative luxury of that tiny ball gag for the rest of the day. I would have even let you remove it to eat your lunch. Instead, you will wear this for the rest of the day. It is a discipline gag of my own design. Quite unpleasant, I'm sure. Now, it's time for you to get on with the rest of your day."
He began to unstrap her from the table. As soon as her hands were free, they shot up reflexively to the gag. Her guess had been right. There seemed to be no dials or levers anywhere on the thing.
He watched her feeble attempts with some amusement as he began to unstrap her legs, but as her efforts became increasingly frantic, he warned her saying, "If you keep that up, I'm going to shock you just to keep you from injuring yourself." Beaten, she let her hands drop.
He pulled her off of the table and cuffed her hands in front of her. He then produced a chain leash, and clipped it to her collar. He began to lead her out of the dungeon, and she had no choice but to follow.
Once they got upstairs, he led her to the kitchen. "When you return home from work, it will be your job to prepare lunch. I will leave detailed instructions here," he indicated a spot on the counter, "as to what you are to prepare for each of us. Since that gag pretty much eliminates your ability to chew, you'll just be preparing lunch for me, today. Do not make any mistakes." With that he set a piece of paper on the counter, gave her one final look, then left the room.
She went over and looked at the list and found fairly basic instructions for a sandwich with a bowl of fruit. She set to work, determined after everything else that had happened that she wouldn't give him an excuse for any more punishments. She quickly found that, even with her hands in front of her, working with her hands cuffed was a challenge. Her hands kept getting in each others' way, and she had to continually re-think how she would normally do things. She had never been very good in the kitchen, and now she found the process of trying to cut fruit with her hands unable to move apart to be a clumsy and frustrating experience.
The extreme discomfort from the gag didn't help, either. She quickly found that she was entirely incapable of not drooling. The main difficulty this posed was that she felt fairly certain that if she drooled all over his food, she would be in trouble. So instead she drooled all over the counter, all over the floor, and all over her own breasts as she bent and arched in unnatural ways to ensure that an unpredicted strand of slobber didn't splash down on his plate before she had a chance to see it coming.
When she was done, she found it necessary to make two separate trips to bring it all to the table. She could manage the fruit bowel and glass of water together, but her hands were cuffed so close together that she had to come back and get the plate with the sandwich separately. When she had done so, he instructed her to sit in a chair next to the table. He then pulled her wrists down between her knees, and attached her cuffs to a small clamp in the chair that she hadn't noticed at first. There she sat, a puddle of drool slowing growing on the table, while he devoured the very tasty looking meal. After he was done, he pored some water in her mouth, which she had difficulty swallowing, but greedily accepted.
After lunch, he lead her in to a study lined with book shelves dominated by a fine oak desk. In the corner was a small school desk, the kind with the desk attacked to the chair. There was a small stack of books on it. He made her sit down, and shackled her ankles to the chair legs. She found the desk cramped and uncomfortable on her bare bottom.
"You will spend two hours studying her each day. As you can see there is a list that indicates what you should read from which book. At the end, there will be a quiz, and each answer that you get wrong with be considered a rules infraction. Your mouth is likely to dry out faster held open like that, so I'm leaving you a bottle of water. Don't spill any of it." He set the water on the desk next to the books and left the room.
Now she felt panic rising in her. She had never been much of a student, and she was terrible at quizzes. She knew that there was no way that she would get all of the answers right. It wouldn't matter how easy the quizzes were. She looked at the books and at the list. Every major subject was covered. Math, history, science, and the rest. She realized that she was wasting time just sitting there, and quickly yanked open the first book.
When two hours were up, she hadn't even finished all of the reading. He came in, set the books aside, and handed her a paper with twenty questions on it, telling her that she had fifteen minutes. He stood and watched as she began, which only made her more nervous. She had hoped that she might luck out with some multiple choice or true or false questions, but these all required written responses.
Her head swam. She only really knew the answers to a few of them, and some of the questions she couldn't even remember reading about. She scribbled down answers, moving fast, fearful of the time limit. In the end, she was only able to answer sixteen of them. He took the paper and started to look it over.
"Well, your handwriting sucks, and none of these are in complete sentences. I didn't specify that, but from now on, anything not answered in complete sentences will be counted wrong. Except math questions, of course. Let's see, that's wrong. That's wrong...."
It continued like that until he had scanned the entire page. "Well, this is a pretty inauspicious start, I'm afraid. You got seven out of twenty right. You'll definitely need to try harder." She felt petrified. After what he had done so far, she didn't want to even think about what she might get now if each question wrong was going to count as its own rules infraction. The thought briefly crossed her mind that he might actually kill her. And chained to this desk, there was nothing she could do about it.
He opened one of the drawers of the nice desk on the other side of the room, and pulled out several clothes pins. As he brought them over he said, "Thirteen clothes pins. One for each wrong answer. Now hold still." She watched in some confusion as he brought one of them closer. She didn't want to be pinched with clothes pins, but they didn't seem near as bad as the things she had imagined in her head, nor for that matter the gag, or being whipped.
He attached the first one to her earlobe. She sucked in air quickly at the pain, but in a moment the pain faded to a dull ache. He repeated the process on her other ear. Next another one on each ear, just above the lobe on the cartilage. Then he started on her neck. In the end, he had attached four down each side. The final pin he carefully inserted past the gag and in to her mouth, and attached to the flap that connected her tongue to the bottom of her mouth. This was by far the worst, getting a yelp from her, but that pain faded as well. Now, while she was certainly uncomfortable, she felt a sense of relief that nothing worse had happened.
Next he gave her a set of chores to complete, which just from glancing at the list, she could tell that they would take most if not all of the afternoon. By now she was desperately hungry, but knew that she really had no choice. She set to her tasks, starting with the bathroom.
The first thing she discovered was that the clothes pins were more insidious that she had at first realized. As she walked or made any movements, they bounced slightly, pulling and shooting new pain through her nerves. Any movement of her head was especially painful. She soon found the chores taking longer simply because she was moving carefully to avoid any unnecessary jarring of the pins. The ordeal was made even more difficult by her still-bound hands and her distended, constantly drooling mouth.
She was miserable. She was scared, sore, and hungry. She hated housework almost as much than studying. She was a prisoner, and she knew it. She had no idea what could happen next and felt helpless. However, as she bent and scrubbed and cleaned, she couldn't deny the arousal that had been building steadily all day.
The final task on her list was to prepare dinner. Again, she had detailed written instructions, this time for fish, rice and a salad. She was encouraged to note that she was preparing a portion for her self, though hers was to be cooked entirely without seasoning. When it was done, she brought it to the table. She was confused that instead of a drink for herself, she had been instructed to set a bowl of water at her place. Once again her handcuffs were latched between her legs to her chair. She felt a moment of panic at this, frustrated at being so hungry and have a plate of hot food sitting right in from of her. She was momentarily uplifted, however, as he began to remove the horrible gag, as well as the clothes pin on her tongue. Once it was off she worked her cramped jaw and licked her lips.
"Alright," he said, "you may eat," and he began to dig in to his food. She was briefly confused, as her hands were still chained down. Then his intention became all to clear to her. She bent her head of her plate and began to pick food up off of it with her mouth. She was simply too hungry to be overly concerned with dignity. She even lapped up water from her bowl like an animal. She was so hungry and thirsty at first, and had been through so many humiliating experiences that day, that she didn't feel any particular shame until the very end of the meal. She had finished all of her food and still had half a bowl of water. He insisted that she drink the rest of it. Then, slurping up the water while he watched, she blushed red as she finally felt the degradation she was being put through.
Afterward she had to clean up of course, still hampered by the hand cuffs but grateful to no longer be wearing the punishment gag. Compared to what she had been through the rest of the day, this was nothing. She was beginning to feel that she needed to pee, but had been told that she would be receiving her last restroom break of the day soon.
After she was done cleaning up, and had squatted over the drain in the basement for another humiliating pee, She found out how she was to spend the rest of this evening, and most others for that matter, for some time to come.
He lead her into the den, where he settled comfortably into a nice chair. He ordered her to kneel in front of him with her eyes down and her hands in her thighs. Then he ordered her closer. She scooted forward until her knees touched the chair between his feet. He ordered her to lean in, which she did.
"No, more," he commanded. She leaned in closer, her head between his knees. "Closer," he said. She leaned in a bit further. "Closer." Now her face was just inches from his crotch.
And there she stayed, staring in to his crotch, so close that she could pick up a slight musky smell, for the rest of the night. She had expected to be ordered to suck his cock. But that order didn't come. She just sat there while he watched TV. Occasionally, he would order her to go get him something to drink, but that was it.
As she sat there, staring at his zipper, her mind had time to wander. She reviewed the days various humiliations, feeling shame and anger and fear. But her thoughts kept getting side tracked by the lust that had been rising in her all day. By now, it was near overwhelming, making it hard for her to think straight. Her pussy was moist and throbbing. His cock lay just in front of her, covered only by the thin barrier of his pants. Kneeling there, she couldn't help but think of his cock. Think of it thrusting inside her, spreading her apart. Of all of the day's events, being forced to just sit there, expecting to be used sexually, but not, was the strangest to her of all.
Eventually, he ordered her to stand, telling her it was bed time. He stayed in his chair for a moment, looking up at her earnestly.
"Answer me truthfully," he said, "do you want to cum?"
Her arousal was obvious. Her nipples were erect, and her pussy glistened. She knew that he must even be able to smell her arousal from so close. "Yes," she said.
"Well, not tonight," he replied, "Orgasms are gifts. Rewards for a good day's work. You had to be disciplined today. Perhaps tomorrow you will do a better job, and earn your orgasm. Now open your mouth." When she did, he put a small pill on her tongue. "Now swallow." She was frightened, not knowing what he had given her, but did as she was told.
He attached the leash to her collar once again, and led her back down through the basement to the tiny room he had shown her earlier. He made her lay down on her hard little cot, refastened her handcuffs to the head board, turned off the light bulb dangling from the ceiling, and left. She expected not to be able to sleep, with so many thoughts racing through her head, and such heat built up in her cunt. With her hands cuffed over her head, she could do nothing to relieve that heat. However, she was out within minute of him leaving the room.
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