Your Master Requires Thirty Days · Part 3 (3/5)
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What I don’t understand is why they put me in this thing. I’ve never seen the police do that on TV.”
“They took my clothes too,” I answered. I decided not to mention the shackles for now. “The guards, do they ever get too friendly?” That possibility both worried and aroused me. I’d given my implicit permission to be raped by a stranger, a harsh word but accurate. The image in my head of suddenly being assaulted and unable to offer any resistance was so enticing I hoped it would become reality during my stay. If it went all the way, I’d live with it. The larger question is whether I’d be disappointed if it didn’t happen.
Sherrie did not answer the question immediately. “Well, I haven’t been assaulted, if that’s what you’re asking. They make me wear this thing,” she paused. “The guards call it a chastity belt. It goes around my waist and between my legs, so I can’t really do anything like, you know, have sex. I saw that you have one on too, and so does Carol…” Sherrie suddenly stopped when she realized she’d disobeyed the order to ignore Carol. “The guards do put their hands where they shouldn’t. I try to push them away but with my hands cuffed behind my back I can’t do much. I guess I just put up with it now.”
I expected one of the guards to rush in and drag Sherrie off, but nothing happened. Instead of being sympathetic I found I was irritated she was getting away with what I considered to be inexcusable behavior. Maybe I shouldn’t be so judgmental; after all, I wasn’t the one in charge. Even so it bothered me to see the rules being broken.
Putting aside my disappointment in Sherrie I decided to see how far she’d go with her story, assuming it was all fiction. “They have to let you talk to a lawyer if you ask for one. They can’t keep you in here forever.”
“I know,” Sherrie replied. “I keep asking but they tell me it’s impossible. I don’t know what else to do. Something isn’t right, the way they’re treating me. Do you think they might not be the police? I’m scared of what they’re going to do with me.” I could hear the fear in her voice. If this was staged, I had to admire the skill of the actress.
That’s when the waste product hit the air circulating device, to paraphrase a popular cliché. I heard the door burst open behind me. The guard who had put us in the stocks marched around to face us. I could tell from the frown on his face he wasn’t in a good mood.
He went over to Carol and grabbed her hair in one hand. He jerked her head back with what had to be a painful tug. “I made it clear Carol here was to be ignored. It was a simple, easy to follow instruction, yet you ignored it. The purpose of this exercise is to learn to respect authority, specifically those of us who are responsible for you. That includes doing what we tell you.”
I was starting to worry. He wasn’t singling out Sherrie for a reprimand. The ‘you’ sounded like it included all of us. That fear was confirmed when he continued.
“Maybe you think you’ll get away with it, claim it’s a slip of the tongue, not intended to be impertinent? You’re here in part to learn excuses like that don’t work. Either you get it right or face what happens when you disappoint me.”
So much for my silent complaint Sherrie was going to get away with her violation. From the barely controlled anger in his voice I was sure we were all about to be penalized for what one of us had done. The guard disappeared behind us, out of sight.
Extended Session I was the last one to be gagged. He started with Carol, then Sherrie and finally I had the foam covered, hard rubber wedge forced into my mouth. It was held in place by a wide leather panel and a series of straps surrounding my head. It might not completely silence me but any attempt on my part to say something intelligible was all but impossible. It had a revolting rubbery taste and wasn’t at all pleasant to wear. But then its purpose was to punish, and in that respect it was well suited to reminding me of my obligations.
“Next time you’ll all do better, won’t you? We can spend the entire day here if that’s what it takes. It’s entirely up to you. Why don’t you take some extra time this morning to meditate on the wisdom of being careless, if not outright disobedient?” He stood there, his eyes sweeping back and forth, scrutinizing us for any reaction.
I didn’t blame the guard for my predicament. He was only doing his job. He was left with no option but to punish us for a blatant disregard of his clear and explicit orders. No, it was Sherrie who brought this on us all. I wasn’t a violent person but at the moment I was ready to strangle her, figuratively if not literally. Not that I could do anything about it with my hands clamped in the stocks.
“The morning exercise period will be extended due to issues with participation. The usual rules will be in effect. You can talk among yourselves, but keep the volume down. By the way, Carol’s prohibition on joining in has been lifted. She has permission to talk, and you don’t have to ignore her.”
I heard him laughing before the door closed behind him. He may have thought he was being funny but I failed to see the humor. I tried to say “hello” through the gag, though all that came out was a meaningless grunt. Both Carol and Sherrie shook their heads; that wasn’t going to work. I gave up, resigned to kneeling in the stocks in silence.
Session Finished Finally, it was over. The morning exercise session was coming to an end. I knew that because the guards were in the process of releasing Carol, the woman who originally wasn’t allowed to speak. Next they took away Sherrie, the cause of our extended session. It was my turn when they came back.
My back was sore and my knees were killing me. Was this going to be every day? If it was then I might not be able to stand up in a week’s time. They claimed it was to teach us to be respectful. I was willing to start and end every sentence with ‘sir’ if that’s what it took to keep me out of the grip of this furniture from hell.
I said a silent prayer of thanks when I heard the door open again. From the corner of my eye I saw a single guard with the standard hood in one hand, standing off to my left. The other guard, the one who delighted in reminding me how bad off I was, stopped in front of me. The man behind me removed the gag, to my immediate relief.
“I’ll see to this one, Pete. You go ahead and take the others to get cleaned up.” Wait, what was happening? The session was over. I was promised a shower and breakfast.
The remaining guard disappeared for a moment, before returning with a folding chair in one hand. He sat down, not very far from me, folded his arms and stared at me, not uttering a word of explanation. From the way he looked at me there was only one thing on his mind. Except for the chastity belt I had nothing to hide. I was on full display, for as long as he wished.
“You have my permission to leave, if you’d rather not stay to keep me company.” He waved toward the door behind me. He did not get out of the chair.
Leave? How was I supposed to accomplish that feat? “Sir, I’m unable to free myself,” I began.
He didn’t stand up. “That’s your problem, not mine. Since you choose to stay we can become better acquainted. The Warden asked me to keep an eye on you. Seems he’s concerned you might turn out to be a troublemaker.” He held up his hands. “Before you deny it, I’m not so quick to judge. Your behavior over the next month will either confirm the Warden’s preconceptions, or prove to my satisfaction you’re here for the right reasons. You’ve already been punished for being disrespectful,” he gestured at the stocks, “and that’s not a good start. It’s up to you to do better.”
Me, a troublemaker? I’d been here less than a day, and in that time I was sure I’d done nothing to earn the Warden’s mistrust. It wasn’t my fault I’d been dragged into Sherrie’s reprimand. I had no way to avoid guilt by association, and started to say so. “Sir, I didn’t…” I started to reply in haste, and just as quickly stopped.
He folded his arms, cocked his head to one side and stared at me. “You didn’t what?”
I didn’t want to dig a deeper hole for myself, is what. Complaining that I’d been unfairly included in collective guilt wasn’t going to improve this man’s opinion of me. He must know the facts, yet he had not chosen to ignore what happened. There was something else at work here.
“I admit I did not act immediately to speak up when someone else violated an order. It was wrong of me, and entirely proper I was included in the group punishment. It won’t happen again, sir.” That wasn’t an empty promise. From now on I had my own zero-tolerance policy towards any of my fellow guests if they showed the slightest hint of challenging our keepers’ instructions.
He didn’t respond immediately. I silently knelt in front of him, held in place by the stocks. There wasn’t much else I could do to demonstrate my sincerity. Either he believed me or he didn’t; it was out of my hands.
He unfolded his arms and leaned forward. “You’re learning. That’s a good sign.” He stared at me but didn’t continue. After a moment he leaned back in the chair again. “Hold still. No talking. Head up, look at me. Straighten up your back! I didn’t give you permission to slouch.”
As usual my brain shut down when I heard that firm, commanding voice. I was aching all over but I had to do my best to lift myself up. I could see the way his eyes narrowed, judging me.
He said nothing but somehow I knew he approved. Maybe I’d never understand how he could affect me with only a few words but I had no doubt as to the result. I still didn’t like him but I couldn’t help but try to please him, regardless of how I felt.
One again those eyes swept over me, up and down, over and over again. At some point he nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw. “With the right attitude you’ll do well. It’s not going to be easy for you but as long as you stay positive, work hard, remember what you learn about yourself, you might look back on your stay here with a certain fondness.”
A stray thought was cynical about his promise. I didn’t care. All I really wanted was to listen to him, even if I had to endure the stocks.
He stood up. “Let’s get you out of that thing. You missed breakfast but I had the cook set something aside for you. You can eat after a shower.” He reached out to push a wisp of hair away from my face. “I’m trusting you, so don’t disappoint me.” The hood went over my head.
All Alone Without any warning the guard spun me around to face him, before he shoved me roughly against the back wall. “Don’t move! Not one word, not a sound,” he ordered. We were alone in my cell.
I was frozen in place, overwhelmed by his sudden aggressiveness. I couldn’t react; I was fixated by his intense stare into my eyes, looking up at him. His hand was in my hair, pulling my head back. The other I felt on my breast, caressing it. His weight pressed against me, pinning me to the wall.
I didn’t care who he was or what he thought of me. My mind emptied except for the irresistible compulsion to please him, any way I could, though sexually would be my preference. Somehow he had discovered my weakness; uninhibited domination, for me, was as powerful a drug as heroin. I was addicted to it; I’d do anything to experience the rush it brought.
I wanted to wrap my legs around him, to feel him inside me, overpowering me. The leg shackles and chastity belt didn’t cooperate. The moment passed when he let go of me and stepped back. I was breathing hard, flushed from arousal, but most of all disappointed he had stopped. He turned away from me and walked outside the cell, pulling the door shut behind him. A turn of his key and I was locked inside.
“Sorry, no room service, but there will be a wakeup call in the morning. We’ll let you know when that will be.” His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me. “I suggest you try to get some sleep after lights out. You have a busy day tomorrow. And in case you forgot, there’s no talking after the rest period begins. We like to keep it quiet while our guests are sleeping.” He walked away, soon out of sight when he passed the walls extending out from my cell. A moment later I heard the crash of yet one more security door being shut.
The guard, Officer Obnoxious was my name for him, hadn’t bothered to remove the handcuffs. Using my fingers, I explored how my wrists were bound together. Both pairs of cuffs were the hinged type, which ensured my hands stayed close together and in line. He’d used two sets, which was a change compared to what I’d experienced before my arrival here. The two pairs faced each other, covering the keyholes. They could be pushed apart, enough for someone to insert a key and open them. There was no way I could manage it on my own, even if I had a key.
I leaned forward, trying to slip my hands over my hips so I could step through the cuffs and at least bring my hands to the front. It was a trick I could sometimes accomplish with regular police style cuffs. It didn’t take long to figure out it wasn’t going to work this time. My wrists were too close together. I walked over to the front of the cell.
Backing up to the bars I held on to them while lowering myself to the floor. With my back to the hallway I leaned back, stretching out my legs. How many days did I have left on my sentence? It was a jolt to my self-confidence when I couldn’t immediately come up with a number. The days were beginning to run together.
Idly I stared at the bare concrete wall at the rear of my cell. Whatever they chose to do with me, for the foreseeable future, was beyond my ability to prevent. Behind my back I wrapped my hands around the bars, holding them tightly. The collar around my neck pressed against the bars, yet one more reminder of my condition. This was it, exactly what I’d signed on for: stripped, bound and confined in a cage I was as helpless as any damsel in distress in the movies. The chains and bars were real though, not special effects. I couldn’t run away, and I couldn’t fight back.
I spread my legs as far apart as possible, pulling the ankle chain taut. Looking down I could see the gleaming shield of the chastity belt. The bondage was having a predictable effect on me, arousal but no relief would be forthcoming. Clever how they waited until it was too late for me to protest before bringing out that belt, I told myself. It had been one of the first steps in asserting their power, claiming the right to withhold my sexual release.
I was reminded of the agreement and the section dealing with sexual activity. I could have listed any number of restrictions; instead, I left it blank. No halfway measures, I told myself, shaking my head at how idiotic that had been. I’d literally given my captors consent to rape me at their leisure. What I had not expected was the opposite, total denial.
If I was giving up my freedom I might as well go all the way. At least that had been my reasoning, though it didn’t seem so clear to me now. I stared at the front plate of the belt again. They must have understood my intentions. If, or when, one of the guards decided to make use of my there wasn’t much I could do to stop him. He would need a key though. I had to smile at a random thought; it would be pointless trying to seduce one of the men in here unless I was sure he was in possession of one of those all-important keys.
This was an incredibly stupid stunt, I scolded myself, staring up at the ceiling of my cell. Careful what you wish for, you may get it. The old cliché ran through my head over and over. I glanced down at the chain between my ankles again. The image stuck in my mind. A week from now, even two weeks on it would still be there.
The band around my neck wasn’t going to disappear either. I was well aware of what that collar represented. It marked me as a man’s property, subject to the whim of the Warden, or even the guards, especially one Officer Obnoxious. They had the means to put it around my neck; I did not have the power to remove it. It was a simple statement of fact yet it had a profound effect on how I now fitted into a new world far removed from the reality outside the walls around me.
I closed my eyes, letting the day’s events wash over me. This was a world I was born for; discipline, confinement, bondage, and yes, even isolation. I wondered, what was in the news tonight, beyond these walls? I had no idea, and that’s how it should be. Someone was watching over me now. If I needed to know, they would inform me. And if they didn’t, then I would accept their censorship was for my own good.
On an impulse I fought the handcuffs one last time. Twisting and turning my wrists I tried to slip off the steel bracelets. Of course, my efforts were a waste of time. They were on to stay, as far as my wishes were concerned. Why had he left me this way? Up to now the guard had always freed my hands at night. Was it some new kind of policy, or maybe he had intentions of returning later in the night? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t my place to question the motives of those in charge. And if I did object, what was I going to do about it?
That prospect brought up a recurring concern. What would happen at the end of my sentence? There was that loophole, the extra days added on for misbehaving. Supposedly it had a limit, though there was nothing I could do if they kept adding on more time. On the last day, assuming there was one, would I walk out, get in my car and drive home? Or would I still be sitting here, trying to figure out some plan to get out of this place?
I had no illusions about sneaking out on my own. I’d seen enough to convince myself it was impossible to escape. Either they let me go or the police burst through the doors to rescue me. Neither possibility seemed to be very likely. No one knew I was a prisoner in here, nor was it likely a guard would take pity on me and smuggle me out, assuming it was possible. I thought about Sherrie and her story about being kidnapped. If she wasn’t making it up…
I pushed aside that scenario. There was no point in worrying about a future that might never happen. I told myself this was still one of those exotic adventure vacations; thirty days in a nightmarish prison and that was all.
Whatever was in store for me I had a more immediate problem. How was I going to manage sleeping with my hands tied behind my back? Was it deliberate or just an oversight, leaving me without the use of my hands? It really didn’t make a difference; I was stuck in what was going to become a most uncomfortable position before too much longer.
“Paula? Are you there? Can you talk? Are you okay?”
I recognized Sherrie’s voice, my neighbor in the adjoining cell. I scooted around on the floor until I faced the bars. “I’m here. I’m alright, except the guard forgot to take off the handcuffs. How about you?”
“Did you…” she paused. “Did you do something to provoke the guard?”
“Not that I know of. He didn’t say anything. Maybe he was distracted and forgot.” That was my hope for the night, that he’d notice his cuffs were missing and come back for them.
“I’m scared they aren’t going to let me go. I keep asking about a lawyer. They ignore me. That part about the gang? I think it was all a pretense. The way they treat us? I don’t think they’re really the police.” I could hear the sobbing; she must be crying.
By now I was convinced Sherrie wasn’t acting out a script. She’d been kidnapped and brought here. I wasn’t sure what was worse; her being held against her will or me knowing about it. I had knowledge of a serious crime. Letting me walk out of here would be foolhardy. They had every reason to assume I’d go straight to the cops with the whole story. I had a bad feeling I might be in the same position as Sherrie.
Night to Remember The lights dimmed. That meant lights out, time to sleep and an abrupt end to our conversation. On the plus side it meant I was finally allowed to use the bunk. I struggled to my feet and managed one step before the corridor door opened and in came two guards, judging by the sound of their boots on the concrete. As best I could I hurried to the rear wall to take my position. With the handcuffs on I wasn’t able to place my hands behind my head but in all other respects I was in my proper place. One of the guards reached for something on the wall, out of my sight, and suddenly the lights came back up.
My old friend, Officer Obnoxious, positioned himself by the cell door, studying me. The other one, I knew his name was Officer Pete, stood in front of the bars. He began talking, explaining why they were present. “We have a number of house rules for our guests. I’m sure you understand we insist they be followed, for everyone’s protection. One of those rules is what we call a ‘spot inspection’ of your quarters. For obvious reasons it is conducted without prior notice, at any time day or night.”
I had a bad feeling about what was coming. I had been thoroughly searched on the first day, and several times since then. There was no way I could sneak anything in. This inspection had to be an excuse for something else.
The cell door swung open. Apprehensive, I watched Officer Obie, short for Obnoxious, approach me. “Turn around and face the rear wall,” he snapped, in a tone that warned me he was used to being obeyed.
“Inspections will be conducted in silence,” he explained. “It’s a mandatory regulation.”
I didn’t get it at first until I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the gag in his hand. The meaning of ‘mandatory’ was clear to me now. “Open your mouth, wide.”
I hated gags with a passion. It was one of my few conditions when I handed myself over for bondage play. That particular stipulation was a moot point now.
When he held up the gag my mouth opened wide, of its own accord. In went the gag, filling my mouth with the rubbery-tasting foam covering a hard core. One strap went behind my head, another over my nose and head in a Y-shape. They met above my neck, in back of my head. He pulled the straps tight. I consoled myself with the reminder that it was a house rule, and rules must be obeyed regardless of personal preference.
Your Master Requires Thirty Days · Part 3 (3/5)
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