Slave · Bound · Part 2

Slave · Bound · Part 2 (2/2)
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"Herbert." was all he said. All he needed to say. No matter which way I ran, I'd be heading for The Pit.

I was a dog on a very short leash. I pulled the robe a little tighter. "My friends will come looking for me." I said bravely.

"You can use the phone and computer whenever you need," He said smiling, "But do you REALLY want to tell the people you owe money, how to find you?"

Uhhhh, not as such, no.

He acted as if the matter was settled. I guess it was. "Now for your duties. You'll do all the cooking and cleaning of course. Every Thursday you'll go to the local Farmer's Market and get whatever food we'll need.

"You'll trust me not to run away?"

He just looked at me. He didn't say 'Herbert,' he didn't need to.

"Will I be allowed clothes for these trips?"

"Of course. Do you want to go back to your apartment for the rest of your stuff?"

"No…Everything I'll need is in my backpack." I didn't feel like mentioning the Marshall's Notice that was taped to my door. I had been mildly evicted.

"And that just leaves my little experiment." He said happily.

"Sex." I guessed.

"Just the opposite."

What the fuck is the opposite of sex; Flannel?

"You don't get to orgasm for…a while."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch…well…maybe one." He looked lost in thought. "Or more." He added.

"But first, we have to get you ready!" He reached behind his chair and lifted a chastity belt. It was all silver and black metal.

"Why should I wear that?" I asked reasonably.

It really didn't look like it could stop me from playtime.

"Strip." was his answer as the metal popped into a few pieces.

I took off the robe as I walked to him. Well…as long as I was in this, he wouldn't be in me. As I turned sideways I saw a mirror placed so I could watch his every move.

Lucky me.

One side of the waistband had two small holes with a larger one in between them. The other end had a series of holes, first small, then large, then small again. He lay the two pieces against each other and adjusted it until it was snug around me. Then he put a metal plate behind the band so three metal posts poked through. Two small and one large.

Now I got it, the belt could be adjusted.

Now came the weird part. He pulled the crotch piece between my legs, causing me to get on my tippy toes. I knew I would be able to get a finger under the narrow band, so whatever devilment he had in mind was doomed to fail.

That's when he added a wide plate. He just slipped it on the narrow metal and pressed it against me. The three metal posts of the waist belt came through the top of the crotch piece. He fitted another plate over all the holes, with only the large post still visible. He took a small padlock and put it on that post.

A quick twist and I heard a solid "Click."

"There," He said, quite satisfied with his effort, "How does that feel?"

"I don't like the colors." He looked confused. I pointed to the belt. "I'm a Bills fan, these are Raiders colors."

"Typical woman, Gets locked in a chastity belt and complains that it clashes with her wardrobe!" He said. "All the more reason for you to want out of it."

"So how to I get it off?"

"There are two ways. The first is I will temporarily remove it when you bind yourself in a way that excites me. I will replace it after you have cum a few times."

"And the other way?"

'If you have not bound yourself for 365 days in a row, I will grant you your freedom."

"I see the catch." I said dryly.

"You can claim I am in bondage when I tie a ribbon in my hair, or someone equally innocent. It's a rigged game with no way for me to win."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a tangle of black leather. "This is a muzzle gag. Wearing this by itself would not be enough to qualify as bondage…" His gaze hardened, "I will see you wrap yourself in rope and beg me for release!"

I turned before the mirror, seeing the belt from a few angles. I hated to admit it, but I looked damn sexy in it. "So… after a year I will be free? No debt? Herbert won't grab me?"

He smiled. "If you have not bound yourself AND begged for my touch: I will unlock your belt and you can walk away a free woman." He leaned back in his chair. "I will even offer you a job so you can earn some money before leaving me. But every time you willingly submit, the year is reset."

"A year from now I'll be debt-free…and free as well." I smiled brightly, "Turns out I was the winner last night after all."

"Indeed, we both were!" He said as he opened a glass-fronted cabinet and hung a small key on a hook. He wrote today's date above the key and closed the door.

There was a ten-number keypad next to the cabinet. "Let's celebrate!" He cried. "Try on the gag."

I laughed. "You're not going to get me that easily."

"You misunderstand." He said a trifle annoyed, "When I tell you to wear something, you are not submitting, you are obeying. Put the gag on…Now!"

I nodded as I picked up the confusing mass of straps. There was a large square of leather with a pouch bulging out of it.

"Hold it so the upside-down Y is on top," He directed.

I maneuvered it and…knowing I had no choice…slid the gag into my mouth. It tasted sweet.

"Use the middle set first." He told me. The square had three sets of straps. I found the middle ones and fumbled a bit until I was able to buckle them behind my head.

"Next, the Y." I pulled the piece over my head and found a loop of leather on the middle strap that had a buckle on it. Got it.

Without waiting for his instructions, I pulled the bottom set behind my neck and… "Stop. That's not how they go." He said angrily, "They cross under your chin."

I fixed it and completed gagging myself.

"Fine, now tighten all straps a notch."

After obeying him, the leather pressed in from all sides. I stretched my mouth to ease where it was getting pinched.

"You like?"

You have got to be kidding.

"Speak." He commanded.

"Oo aah ot oo ee igging" I repeated, this time aloud. I was actually fairly understandable.

"You will often be bound to help me. Now, go get dressed and then make breakfast. You can remove the gag when we are ready to eat."

I thanked him as best as I could and took a few steps…the fucking bastard!

The back of the chastity was a rod that nestled between my ass cheeks. Any movement I made caused that rod to lightly rub me.

I ADORE being touched back there (So I love anal, what ya gonna to do about it?) But I need my clit to finish the job.

How the fuck was I going to last a year of non-stop horny?

I had to keep this hidden.

I hurried to my room to find my backpack had been emptied… I pulled open some sliding doors to see my stuff hanging on one side of a large closet.

Most of the closet space was taken up by…clothes of some sort…I wasn't really sure. A lot of it was dark red or black, but there were bright yellows as well.

I'd investigate them later. (They are clothes, I'm a woman, It's what I do!) But for now, he'd get my basic job interview outfit.

I found my bras and panties neatly arranged in a drawer. (I wondered how much he enjoyed doing THAT?)

As I was already dripping, I put a liner in my most boring pair of panties and got dressed. I added a bra and finished with the jean skirt, white blouse, socks and sneakers.

I looked like a competent woman who was ready to be on her feet for a long time. As I usually worked as a waitress, this is exactly the image I wanted to convey.

Aside from the gag, of course.

Why couldn't I stop sucking the damn thing?

He rose to his feet as I walked out. "Wonderful! A perfect dichotomy."

I had no idea of what he said, but I felt flattered. I followed him to the kitchen, fighting the urge to sway my hips, but that damn rod teased me with every step.

The kitchen was impressive. After a bit of searching, I was started to make huevos rancheros with coffee.

I could feel his eyes follow me as I moved around. The bastard knew what was hidden under my skirt.

He didn't know the effect it was having on me. Did he?

I had no idea how I felt about that.

In a few minutes I slid the warm tortillas on the plates, covered them with the egg mixture and had a pair of steaming coffee mugs in place on a small table.

I cocked my head and he gestured that I could remove the gag. He handed me a most-needed napkin as soon as I slid the sodden leather from my mouth. There was a lot of drool.

More than he knew.

During our brief lunch I was able to ask a few questions. "You said I would often be bound to help you. What does that mean?"

"I'm an artist, you will model for me."

"Bound." I said flatly.

"Bound!" He agreed.

"Do I have a say in this?"

He leaned closer. "What part of the word 'Slave' do you not understand? If I hadn't bought you, you would be on display in The Pit. And after a week of being stared at, your hell would begin."

I was really regretting my comment.

"Did you know some people will pay to see a girl get tattooed? And a few will pay a lot if they get to be the one doing the ink."

I tried to apologize, but he was on a roll.

"Same thing goes for piercing… and shaving…and a few other violations that you really do not want to know about."

"Thank you." I managed to croak.

He ignored my interruption. "Then you'd start a month of modeling for him. Unlike what you'll do here, his models are never untied, just bound in different ways."

He took a deep drink of coffee. "Finally, after about two months of build-up, you'd have your first customer… or fifty."

I finally understood the horror I had narrowly escaped."Thank you! " I cried. "You saved me from endless torment. I may never be able to repay you, but I'll try."

"Yeah…" He said softly, "I hoped you'd understand. "

He dropped his napkin on the plate as he stood. "You do your dishes while I prepare the studio."

"Yes…Master?" I ventured.

A raised eyebrow was his only reply.

As I washed, dried and put away the dishes. (I was NOT in a hurry!) I considered my options. I could run, but I had no money, no change of clothes…hell… I couldn't even sell my body.

I could call the police. Probably not the best option after being caught emptying the cash register.

I could call a friend. I had emptied the purse of the last friend I had.

Or…I could call my mother.

Compared to her, The Pit didn't sound so bad

I finished my chores and wandered out of the kitchen in search of this studio.

I heard modern instrumental music coming from across a room, might as well give it a try. I walked in to find him adjusting a large wooden X that was attached to a wall.

"What the hell is that?" I asked without thinking.

"Juno Reactor." He replied.

How was that cross a…reactor?…Ooooh, That was the band…or the song…or something.

This guy was odd. Then again, I was the one wearing a chastity.

There were several cameras aimed at the cross. I gave an inward shrug. It was this or The Pit. Hopefully, if I didn't argue I'd get to keep my clothing.

I stepped on small footrests at the bottom and he began buckling leather straps to my extremities. There were bright lights aimed on me. I could only see a few feet in front. He was gentle, making sure my bonds were not too tight.

Finally, I had a guy who paid full attention to me and all he wanted to do was tie me down.

"So…you're an artist and you need me bound…What…er…gallery displays your art?"

"I'm not that kind of artist."

My arms were trapped and he bent to secure my legs.

"I do comic book characters."

"What company wants…?"

"I sell prints of Superheroes at comic cons. And before you ask, FEMALE heroes. In bondage."

"Oh. There's a market for that?"

He finished with a wide belt at my waist. I was trapped. Comfortable, but trapped.

"You'd be surprised. At the Detroit show a guy told me that all my art was copied from photos. I was going to argue but he had copies on his phone."

I was intrigued. "So, what did you do?"

"I bought you." He said smiling. "Now the poses will be original."

"Am I going to have to wear…" A gag interrupted my next question. It tasted sweet, like the other gags. This one had many straps that pulled the ball to the roof of my mouth and then forced me to close my mouth around it.

Who designs this stuff?

"Okay, you're the hero's girlfriend and you have to escape to warn him…GO!"

He motioned with his hands, "Struggle, try to escape…ACT!"

Oooooohhhh.

I acted.

I twisted my body as I pulled against the straps. I had enough slack so that I managed to get a nice rhythm going.

No freedom, but at least I kept to the beat of the music.

"Not bad…but let's spice it up…just a little." I stopped thrashing as he unbuttoned half my blouse, showing just a bit of a lacy cup. "More!" He commanded.

I tried to get free. But his five straps held me fast. I continued my battle until it slowly dawned on me what I was really trying to to.

I needed to rub myself, no… I HAD to!

I had been thrusting my hips forward, partly to get ANY friction, but also as an invitation. Maybe that old joke was correct. The fastest way to get a woman to do something is to tell her she can't.

All I knew, or cared about was he had two things I needed: a key and a cock.

I was bound and I was begging. "Please!" I screamed through the gag, "Fuck me!"

My world was reduced to lights, techno music, five straps and my lust.

I couldn't escape from any of them.

I struggled until my clothes were sodden from sweat and my muscles were barely able to twitch. I hung in the straps, sucking in as much air as I could, just wanting to be touched.

"What do you think?"

I looked up. He was standing there, holding a sketch pad. He had drawn me on his cross…but, not exactly.

On paper, I wore high heels and my skirt was slit up the side. You could just see the tops of my stockings and a bit of a garter strap. The bra under my blouse was black with a lot more lace and a lot less cup. I also had on a collar.

And my straps were now those thick metal things you see on prisoners.

But it was the look on my face. He had captured my submission. You could see it in my eyes. I was still fighting the bondage, but it had won. I needed to cu, oh God did I need to cum.

But I also needed to be gagged and bound.

As I flipped through the sketch pad I realized I was no longer bound. He retrieved his art and swatted my ass. "I set your alarm for two hours. Go have a little nap, then wash up and make dinner." I stumbled to my bed and collapsed on the covers, too tired to get undressed.

Drifting to sleep, I felt that I hadn't removed the gag either.

Felt nice…

Slave · Bound · Part 2 (2/2)
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