Disclaimer: The following story is inspired and guided by real life events. If you are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or power and surrender scenes, please leave this page. If you are under legal age of your country/state please leave now.
Fragments of imagination from the east coast
Chapter 5 - Be careful what you wish for
Despite my clear position as a slave, Master rarely abrogated my freedom of speech. Communication was important to Him, and the spoken word through honesty the quickest way for both of us to find out about each other. A couple of times, it just happened I have picked the wrong moment to express myself which quickly resulted in being shut up, or as it was the case one time, gagged.
Communication goes both ways, and I had ample opportunity to do probing of my own and explore the limits of my slavery. Subtle ways in which I could try and influence the situation, provoke an action or simply evaluate how far a slave can impose without suffering dire consequences. One of those times slave went too far.
One of the topics commonly discussed between Master and me was sleep deprivation. Having toyed with the concept before and through my limited experience, I was curious to determine its true effect on me. Ever since Master told me how He sought to apply it, I was restless with unsated interest. My curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself pestering Master with questions. How would it work? How long would it last? Was their going to be pain? Discomfort? For how long? Too late did I realize my excessive interest was telling a tale of its own. Despite, the obvious danger of experiencing it personally, I enjoyed tempting my fate. The apprehension was there, and yet, the fear of the unknown did not stop me. After all, how bad could it be? Part of me wanted to find out, even if it was purely subconscious. The same part that seemed to ignore short replies Master was giving me, clearly trying to divert the subject. Finally, He lost patience with me and announced I would find out myself that evening. Now it was my turn to take a step back. The reality of what just happened hit me, and it was too late to back out. The sad puppy look didn't work either. If anything, the smirk I got back told me the more I pleaded, the more enticed Master was to follow through. Reluctantly, I laid my fears to rest and tried to seek comfort in at least learning how it feels like first hand.
The evening began innocent enough with some light play before slave was told to strip and head over to where Master's cage was. It was a rather typical sturdy steel cage, 3 feet on each side, with a solid bottom. Having already spent quite some time in it, I was quite comfortable with it, but I wasn't going to be comfortable tonight at all. Once stripped, slave was ushered in and the gate closed, followed by now very familiar sound of a padlock clicking together. Normally, it would have made the slave slightly more relaxed but this time it just made it slightly more anxious.
"Put your hands on the sides of the cage and spread your legs. Ass against the back side, sit straight up." Slave obediently complied and four more padlocks immobilized slaves limbs to the sides of the cage, using the leather cuffs and anklets as anchor points. Then, Master went into the cage and secured slaves collar to the back side of the cage against which slave was leaning, effectively forcing slave to stay in upright position.
"There. Remember slave, this is what you asked for. And I was kind to put you in the easiest position."
"Thank you Master! Slave is grateful." And was I ever! With a shiver it recalled the more difficult positions, where muscles were constantly strained over the course of the night in unnatural positions. Perhaps the worst was what Master called a V shape, where slave was left hanging in the cage, with all its arms and legs secured to the top side, leaving the torso to hang freely in the center. Such strain would quickly turn into full-fledged torture. Sleep deprivation was just a consequence of a highly painful position. It was definitely grateful for being allowed to remain in a sitting position.
"Have a good night slave. I will check on you in the morning." And with that the lights went out and Master was gone.
There was very little give away in all my anchor points. I tested them all as soon as I was left alone, uselessly trying to shift in a vain effort to find the most comfortable position. Both my arms and legs were tightly secured, allowing only limited movement of my torso and ass to the side, or if I so desired I could lift my bottom up temporarily, about a foot away. The padlocks could slide up and down the bars of the cage up to the where the cross bars met them, allowing me to propel myself up but that wouldn't last long as it imposed strain on my muscles to keep up. Still, it was the only kind of moment I was allowed, and any movement is welcome when left in strict confinement.
First couple of hours I enjoyed my predicament. I looked back to my days of service so far, reevaluated my efforts and considered myself lucky to be where I am. Having had a busy day, natural fatigue was starting to show itself and the desire for rest became obvious. The bondage I was in, didn't feel too uncomfortable and I was wondering if I could get some sleep despite my peculiar position. Slowly, I slumped forward allowing my hands and head to drop down in an effort to relax enough for sleep. The discomfort was now clearly apparent as the unnatural position I was in created hints of muscle ache still to come. Relaxation was not an option. I kept trying for almost what seemed to me an hour, and only grew more frustrated with each passing second. In the end I just gave up on the notion of sleep, and decided to settle in for a more realistic solution. Perhaps, if I couldn't sleep, I could find a position comfortable enough to rest. No such luck.
Despite my earnest efforts, it was clear to me there would be no rest this night. Worse yet, my growing muscle ache was becoming increasingly evident, invariably culminating in a muscle cramp, which I could only alleviate by propelling myself off ground, shifting strain from one muscle group to another. Within an hour, the need to shift became frequent and I was now in serious discomfort. Furthermore, the strain from having to propel myself up, combined with the lack of rest, resulted in breaking out in sweat. The chilly air was cooling the sweat rapidly, making me shiver from the cold. The light blanket I was left in, kept shifting off of me every time I would shift, and I would have to lift my body and bend my neck to grab it my teeth and tug hard in order to cover myself again. Hour after hour, the same scenario repeated itself over and over, every 5-10 minutes. Psychologically, my mind was already struggling to handle the position I was in. With every passing minute, the situation seemed a bit more desperate as my muscle ache soared. First doubts slowly crept in. Masters words kept echoing in my head. This is what I wanted. What I asked for. And yet, I couldn't shake off the feeling that this was punishment. Much different from the physical punishment, this one seemed focused on my mind, and it was struggling not to enter turmoil. Would He come release me before morning? Part of me didn't want to be given an easy way out. Master wanted me here in this position and I was not the kind of slave to disappoint. I would stay here and keep silent until morning, I vowed. Still, somewhere deep inside there was another part of me that was waiting and hoping for a release.
With no watch or clocks to track time, I could not know how long it has been since I was put in the cage. Or how longer I would have to stay there until release would finally come. Instead of fighting a losing battle with my predicament I decided to try and escape the reality using meditation. Focusing the attention to my favorite meditation scene, I tried to lose myself in the splendors of rampant thick humid forests, substituting the chilly air for a gentle breeze. It worked only partially as I would always return to the reality because of the growing muscle ache, unable to put it out of mind.
Left with no options, my mind was slowly beginning to unravel. This indeed was punishment. I had failed Him. Despite the clear signs to leave the discussion to rest, I kept pestering Master about sleep deprivation and now I was subjected to it. Images of displeased and disappointed Master was all I could see. Serious face looking down on me, sparking fear and a feeling of wrongdoing I could hardly deal with. Every time the ache would grow too high, I kept reminding myself it was my fault and this was price I was paying. The morning seemed distant, never coming, even when I could clearly see light breaking from the window. The constant discomfort has already taken its tall and I just prayed that the release would come soon. Another minute would pass by, and there would be no one to release me. Shifting carefully, trying to strangle the moans, I would reset my hopes. Perhaps the release would come in the next minute.
I don't know how long I was stuck in this never-ending loop. Eventually, I heard rustling from the nearby room and my hopes dashed. The sound of running water confirmed to me someone was up. Hopefully, with release just around the corner, I was now more than desperate. Sure enough, Master walked into the room, looking at me, appraising my condition. I did not dare, make a sound. Not one move. Nothing that would compromise my release. Was He cruel enough to leave me in here? I hoped not, as I was ready to beg for release. Surely, He would not grant me hopes of release only to quash them. One by one, padlocks that confinement me, were unlocked, my hands and legs forgotten what it feels like to move. As the cage door opened, I slowly shifted and crawled out.
All movement was painful, my body rigid and stiff from its predicament. Not that I cared. I could finally move, and as I crawled out feeling of gratitude overwhelmed me. Without thinking, I prostrated myself in front of Master, ignoring the protest my knees were giving me. I didn't want to go back in. Please don't put me back there.
"Thank you Master! Thank you for releasing slave." I was almost sobbing to myself, as I clung to Master's feet. Never in my life had I felt so submissive, so invariably locked in my role that free thinking was out of bounds.
The deadly quiet that descended on us, made me all the more nervous. My heart skipped a beat as I feared He was thinking about putting me back into the cage. The very thought made me cling harder on his feet, in hopes He might understand my desperation. Fortunately, He did.
"You are welcome slave. We can talk later about your night, now, I want breakfast and coffee. Go make it."
As the handcuffs were put on my hands, a brief thought crossed my mind. Breakfast never sounded so good.
Chapter 6 – Of tight embraces
Throughout most of my visit, my mind usually was twisted around my service. Fueled by curiosity, I kept questioning myself and observing my surroundings, Master's actions, anything that would provide me further insight into the life of servitude. I was changing already, and I could feel it. Immersed in another world, the life outside home seemed distant, barely worth my attention. Between the thoughts of submission, servitude, limits and desire, I would often come back to the roots of my own selfish desires. Hopes would rise, spurred by my lately insatiable lust. In turn, my rebellious side would show, wanting, even demanding satisfaction. As soon as I would realize my mistake, I would feel ashamed, even if I have just internalized the deeply instilled desires of human existence. I realized I still had a long way to go, before I could fully control my internal desires; enough to prevent them from directly manifesting in a domineering manner.
For now, distracting myself away seemed to be the best strategy, and what better way to accomplish that but with your favorite activity. I guess I shouldn't call it an activity, as it appears to be a highly passive state, yet, my mind is always ablaze with activity at those times, even when everything seems so tranquil. As I have mentioned before, bondage is a very regular activity in my service and no doubt it brings a lot of benefits to my slave mind frame. However, my utmost personal preference in bondage has to be spending time in a leather straightjacket. The mere sight or even just a thought of being encompassed in a warm tight embrace of the leather sheaths, grips my attention faster than anything else. The subjugation that follows leads me slowly into a trance; state of total relaxation and surrender. All I want at that point is to embrace that tranquil and tone further into the depths of surrender. As such, the straightjacket became my penultimate reward, but more so, my psychological safe guard, a shield away from the reality and the safe place where I could abscond to. Even during the times of play, when Master would use me in the straightjacket, or even punish me, its grip kept me safe and reinforced my surrender, allowing myself to drift in the endless void, detached from my concerns and fears, making me happily delegate all control and choices to my Master.
And yet, while I always admired and lustfully desired a straightjacket, I was never given a chance to wear one until the first weekend of my visit. It was a moment of confirmation and utmost dedication as what I had just described hit me full force. As each strap was tightened I could feel my elation drift a tad higher, my freedom a bit further away, the tranquil of my situation even stronger. Fully strapped in the straightjacket I felt complete, where I should be, and like a happy puppy dazedly looked at Master who seemed to be just as pleased at my reaction. The first time only solidified what I already knew. I wanted to be in the straightjacket as often as possible and for as long as possible.
At least that's what I thought in the first hour or so. Come close to the end of the 2nd hour, my body began to protest. While the straightjacket wasn't uncomfortable, the lack of movement introduced a strain on the muscles, which were beginning now to cramp. The wonderful sensation now seemed somewhat impaired, as I began to consider how long term bondage was going to be a very painful experience. Despite that, I still adored my tight companion and the safety and tranquil it brought me. Breaching into the 3rd hour, I was now in considerable pain and had to struggle to contain it. Master surely noticed, and observed my struggles, no doubt enjoying them. His eyes seemed content but somewhat unsure; He was testing me as much as I was testing myself. Hopefully, I will have met His expectations, and while I hated the thought of being freed from it, my muscles were sending off vicious pain waves I now had trouble dealing with. Grimaces and shallow moans were beginning to escape me, as I uselessly tried to work my arms in their sleeves. The biggest pain was emanating from my shoulders, which were forcefully bent to allow for arms to be fitted into the sleeves. Finally, Master took pity in me, and released the strap on my chest that was holding the arms together, and the first few buckles on the back allowing me to straighten up. Being cramped for so long, as I stood up the pain immediately accosted me. Despite its high intensity, I soaked up and welcomed all of it, as I knew it would be gone fairly fast. Curiously enough as soon as the pain subsided, I found myself wanting to be locked back in it. I told myself it was crazy; I was just released from it, and while the temporary freedom I was given was alluring, it wasn't alluring enough. My true love for straightjacket was born that day, perhaps not born, but rather realized for the first time.
There were many other occasions, where I was blessed with the opportunity to spend time in the straightjacket. Of course, it wasn't enough. It couldn't have been. More was always better; but as I had to remind myself often, this wasn't about me. It was far too easy to get lost in your own desires. Eventually my slave mindset would prevail, but I had to keep myself in check until then. Strangely enough the straightjacket both helped and hindered that state. On one side it boosted my subservience and compliance to new levels, while at the same time it would reinforce personal pleasure and desire, drawing the focus away from Master back to me. Perhaps, little too selfishly, I adored almost everything about it, and could not wait for the next time I would be subject to its devilish effects. Master too, realized how strongly it affected me, and to my dismay limited its use, no doubt wanting to explore other venues and keep my focus onto Him.
On another occasion, one particular evening, I was strapped in the straightjacket and left chained at the foot of the bed to sleep. Or at least try. I knew the muscle cramps would set in within the first hour or two, and if I wanted to have any chance at sleep I had to delve into it straight away. While I succeeded at first, sharp pain and discomfort woke me up at 2am. My shoulders were ablaze and I was covered in a fine glean of sweat. Master was sound asleep, and I was now left with a difficult decision. Deciding not to wake Master up, I tried to force myself back to sleep. It didn't work, the pain was just too great and mounting with every passing minute. Standing up I found the pain was more bearable, but the chain was too short for me to move away from the bed. Careful as to not rustle the chain too much and risk waking up the Master, I slowly rose up from the small mattress and leaned on the nearby chair, keeping a semi upright position which seemed to ease the pain a bit. I don't know how long I stayed in that position, chain taught, eyes closed, constantly shifting between resting and battling the growing discomfort. I realized it was a losing battle and sooner or later I would end up disturbing Master from His sleep. As the discomfort levels rose to the point I could not contain it any more, with sound determination I knelt beside Master's bed and assumed a request position the best I could. I didn't have to say anything as Master could hear me shuffling to get into the position and understood right away. I didn't seem to realize until later, that He was already awake and was watching me secretly. It didn't matter though. I have reached the point where I was going to ask for release, granted or not. Fortunately, it was and I was able to continue my rest for the remainder of the night. Before I fell asleep I considered how thankful I should be to have been granted rest when it was just as easy to be denied release.
Chapter 7 – Pain advisory, the punishment forecast
Four weeks of my visit with Master flew by too fast to enjoy, and still too slow to endure. There were times where I would look at my watch, and wish I could magically move the little hand either forward or backwards. Still, as the end of my visit approached, I realized just how much addicting the whole experience was. I wanted to stay, carry on my duty, the service, chores, even all the tortures, and the accompanying punishments. Anything that would make Master happy, and in turn me happy as well. My stay was concluded with the understanding between Master and me on how our future engagements would proceed and my eventual time for entering full time slavery which would be due in six months with the end of school. If only I didn't have to wait that long before I could serve Master again. It turned out I would have my wish come true.
Fast forward five months later; we have kept in touch almost every day. Naturally, I have told Master about my graduation ceremony, and offered to have Master visit. To my immense joy, Master accepted my invitation and was due to arrive a day before the ceremony. As Master explained what was going to happen, I realized how precarious my position was going to be. While I have intended to become a full time slave, my private life, especially university life was heavily separated. With a serious threat of the two clashing, I had to try and at least salvage the situation somehow. I considered pleading with Master, but I didn't feel it was my place to require anything of Master, let alone how Master was going to behave.
Tentatively I tried to broach the subject. Master picked up quickly on what I considered a problem and proposed a solution. In return for one time treatment as equals, in cases of public exposure, I would be severely punished the night before the ceremony to atone for the breach of status. That sounded extremely reasonable, and I immediately accepted, apologizing profusely even now for just suggesting the idea of acting like an equal. I feared the punishment, but it was the only way to keep appearances on both sides, at least for the time being, and I had to accept.
Seemingly overnight, the graduation ceremony was lurking around the corner. Master was already inbound, and I awaited His arrival at the airport. Most welcome, anticipation and anxiety were coursing through my body. Many questions going through my mind, none of which could be asked but all that would be answered shortly. A rather brief exchange of greetings with Master, did not depict our emotions nearly as well as both of our wide smiles. It has been too long, and I will have to wait just a little while longer. Soon, I will be able to see that smile every day. We left immediately for lunch and to settle in the motel room. Despite the small talk, the lunch seemed awfully quiet. Perhaps it was a sign of things to come?
Back in the room, Master immediately asserted his dominance by first ordering me to strip. The words were music to my ears and I hurriedly complied. After a short inspection I was told to put on my new gown. A few months ago, Master bought a rather ancient basic looking Greek tunic, with a look dating to around 3rd century BC. Master considered it fitting clothes for a slave, which will remind it of its status all the time, and while at first slave was shocked gradually the idea became acceptable, even desirable. The tunic seemed to fit me well, but the material was rather coarse on my skin, indeed reminding me it was plain and meant for a slave or as it may have been then, a commoner.
A black leather hood was locked on and slave was led onto the bed. Obviously Master intended to have some fun first, and I wasn't mistaken because I soon felt a dull ache explode in my left ball which just happened to catch Masters full attention. As usual, Master starts bed play with some form of CBT. It didn't take long before I was struggling to keep still and quiet as I didn't know who might be listening through the walls. At irregular intervals my nipples were assaulted instead, just enough to draw away from the impeding agony from down below. Surprisingly, just as I was getting close to my limits, the pain stopped and my hood was removed. Through watery eyes I looked at Master, trying to gage where things were going. With a large grin, Master picked up a large clear plastic bag, full of clothespins and rattled it in front of me. More than likely the expression on my face was priceless as my mouth as surely locked in a gaping O.
"You need to learn to be more thankful, slave. Perhaps you are already appreciative of everything I do for you... but, I think you should be more consistent in thanking me as a good slave should, don't you think?"
"Yes Master!" I immediately replied, eying the clothespins worriedly. I knew exactly what was coming. I wasn't too far off.
"Good slave. You will start by thanking me for each clothespin I put on you."
No later than He said it, the first clothespin was already finding its way towards my left nipple. Not unfamiliar with the pain, I just braced for the impact and slowly relaxed after the clothespin remained, the pain slowly subsiding, but its remnants still there. Of course I immediately thanked my Master, wondering how far we will go this time. Another assaulted the other nipple. Two more followed, after which a double trail was beginning to form going down from my nipples towards my groin. The clothespins kept coming, some at short intervals, and others with a slight delay in between, all requiring me to focus and express my gratitude. The task was now much harder with the increasingly accosting pain, whilst without any restraints I had to work hard at keeping still. Still I managed to go through all of some 70 clothespins. As the last one was put on, I felt a small sense of relief and victory as I managed to go through them all. It was short lived as Master began torturing me with them almost instantly.
With short flicks of His fingers, He would send each of them wildly swinging, almost like playing an instrument, testing to see which notes are produces by each one. Unfortunately this time I could only barely strangle the screams and some escaped me. Not that it phased Master in the least. When Master seemed pleased with "playing me", about 15 minutes later, He announced they were now to be removed. Some mercy was given that I could indicate to Master which clothespin could be removed next and when slave was ready. Fearful of the pain, I wearily picked two that would seem the least painful at first, and true enough they were removed almost too easily. As I picked the 3rd that was holding onto my foreskin, Master decided to tug the clothespin until it came off instead of pressing on it to relieve the pressure first. This almost elicited a shout from me, which I muffled in just a nick of time. A look of betrayal I gave Master was only returned with a smile and a nudge to pick again. Oh God.
In a true battle of wits, I was trying to outmaneuver Master but no matter what I picked it was always ultimately Master's choice. Seemingly small victories I was given only served to set me up for a painful defeat. Finally, the last clothespin was off, my breathing ragged and burdened by the pain still present, that wouldn't fade away. My groin and stomach were both fiery red and burning from all the irritation, a lot of the places bruised blue from the pinch of the clothespins where the patches of loose skin were. I don't know why I hoped for a moment of respite. Instead, two rough hands were forcefully rubbing the already sensitive skin, establishing blood flow but also halting my breathing because of the pain. If that was bad, what I saw next stunned me. Master was gathering all the clothespins again and getting ready to put them back on me. A strangled moan escaped me as I realized the futility of my hopes. There wasn't going to be much of any respite.
This time around, each clothespin felt at least twice as bad. The already sensitive skin protested intensely at its abuse, with me doubling my efforts to keep still, failing at times. It seemed Master was aware how far this stretched my limits and He wasn't intentionally trying to cause me more pain. What was happening was enough and the pace by which things were proceeding seemed to be left with me. Amongst the ocean of pain, this little island of mercy spurred my hopes again and my new found strength helped me to persist. Seemingly much later than I wish to recall, they were all back on and I kept thinking of the pain to come. A reassuring look from Master made me feel a little better, but as soon as I realized He was going to play the game again I tensed all over, expecting pain levels that would surely have me screaming. Despite my doubts, He never once removed any of clothespins by tugging. Damn it! Torn between resignation and gratefulness, I thanked my Master for showing me mercy. I was genuinely surprised, not expecting such a kind act, not after all what happened before, and the looming punishment that was still to happen. In fact, a trace of anger appeared in me. Why couldn't He just get it over? How could He play me so easily, keep me off my footing? But then through that anger, and despite all the pain, it was what I wanted, what I needed. My eyes got watery again for completely different reasons and I thanked Master again for what seemed to be the theme of the evening. Perhaps I was finally learning?
Satisfied look on Master's face indicated that at least I was on the right trail. After a couple of moments to calm down, I was unceremoniously dragged off the bed into the little bathroom, firmly pushed down to kneel next to the toilet. My heart rate sped up as I considered the only thing this could mean. Before I had time to even consider it, the fly was already open and the cock already ordered in my mouth. Trying not to cringe at the taste of things to come, I followed blindly. The first squirt immediately reminded me of the bitterness piss has. The flow increased and I was desperately trying to keep up, but slowly falling behind until my gag reflex simply put a stop to any progress, emptying everything in my mouth on the tile floor. Sheepishly I looked up at Master, half expecting admonishment, half hoping for understanding. When Master remained neutral I resumed my position and we continued, but my throat already sensitive did not take long to gag again. Again, no retribution although this time Master did not bother to try again, instead finished pissing into the toilet, leaving me to kneel beside it. In the mean time, I was feeling dejected by my failure, anxious of the forthcoming reaction.
We both retreated back to the bed, and Master ordered me to suck Him off. Hoping that perhaps I will be forgiven if I put extra effort here, I sprung into action, trying my best. It wasn't meant to be however, as Master used the opportunity to immediately remind me of my failure; first to drink the piss as ordered, and second to thank him for the opportunity. As those last words sank in, I felt especially devastated, stupid, unworthy. How could I have forgotten so fast? I tried to rationalize to myself, I was distraught from the previous failure, but that was simply an excuse. As Master professed His disappointment I felt more hurt than given by any clothespin that day. I desperately wanted to say how sorry I was, beg for forgiveness, anything to be given another chance. But no, I had another task at hand, and I didn't want to fail that too. Putting my grief aside best I could, I worked at least on giving my Master some pleasure. Even that took a while until Master grabbed the initiative and forcefully finished by coming into my mouth, rewarding slave with bitter sweet load.
Short respite later, time has come for the punishment we both knew was coming. Seemingly in an instant, the air got heavier; Master's demeanor changed and the playful aura was gone. Stern look accompanied Masters eyes as they bore into my soul. Coldness mixed with disappointment emanated from His face as He ordered me into a new position.
"Slave, on your back, spread-eagle position." Brief. Not wasting any words, but what words didn't say His face spoke volumes. I turned, trying to find inner strength to face what was about to come. Yet, I didn't know what awaited me. With my limits stretched in play as much as they were, fear dominated my thoughts. Punishment was always much worse. Still resignation and acceptance veiled the fear to the point it wasn't apparent. Or at least so I thought.
"Do I need to gag you slave?" That caught me by surprise. He was giving me a choice? It was going to be that intense? I was uncertain what to pick as either choice can make the situation worse. Finally, after quelling my fears I decided I was going to give it my best to contain it without a gag.
"No, Master."
Swiftly, His hands went rummaging in the toy bag, only to come out with a little bottle what looked like to be icy hot and duct tape. Oh boy...
"You have disappointed me on numerous occasions, and while you still have plenty room to grow and learn, disappointment carries its consequences. You have asked me to step out of my role as your Master temporarily, and while I have granted you that, you will be punished for having me make false appearances. You are a slave and you will remember that at all times."
"It pains me to have to punish you in this way, but you are my property and you need to be brought back to what you are."
All the while I was silent listening to what was a solemn and almost remorseful speech, the turmoil inside me was raging, heightened by the memories of everything I failed recently. Remorse was about to boil over and once Master was done, I silently whispered my apology. Neither of us expected it to make any difference, least of which me who now needed this punishment more than anything else to shed away the internal tumult.
Without further ado, Master put on nylon gloves and grabbed the bottle of icy hot. As he approached me I strained my head up to see where it was going. As he approached my sore and beat red crotch I stared in disbelief at what was going to happen. Oh god no.
Liberal amount of icy hot found its way to my groin, roughly rubbed in on my balls, groin, cock, the head and under the foreskin. The touch itself was almost causing me to wince from the previous assaults, but there was no other immediate pain. Just as his hand went to grab a second helping, my crotch burst in what seemed a fiery hell ball. The waves of heat pulsed, each causing me to twitch and twist, while He relentlessly applied even more of the vicious liquid. I was now struggling to stay in the position, twisting to the sides, teeth chattering, eyes closed shut, desperately trying to reach for my subspace and get away from it. The intensity of the situation however deemed it almost impossible and once I realized the futility of it, I resigned myself to the ever growing burning sensation. Despite the agonizing pain, I somehow managed to contain my trashing and screams to my own surprise.
About fifteen minutes later, my tears were freely flowing now, my pain thresholds fully breached, after having just suffered the worst of the ordeal with the pain slowly declining. Master would have none of it, and used His hand to rub, bend and squeeze my now extremely sensitive crotch, eliciting yelps and winces that I could barely contain. Through teary eyes I tried to look back at Him, not ask for mercy but convey how sorry I was, how utterly remorseful I was. It helped to keep eye contact. Perhaps, I could sooth them, show them I submit, accept, relent and repentance. Seek absolution in that unyielding stare and shield myself from the aches within. Momentary pain overloads would break our eye contact, but I would always come back to His stare and hoped my submission would yield results. Enthralled in my gaze I barely even noticed the pain was gone. The icy hot did its part, and now only a dull ache was left, something my endorphins could easily handle despite Master rubbing the skin still.
I took a moment to catch my breath, wiped my tears against the bed, before replying: "Thank you Master, for correcting this slave". Now that it was over it didn't seem as bad as it started out. In fact, I thought the clothespins were worse. It didn't escape my Master either.
"I'm not done yet slave. Looks like the icy hot was fairly week to what I was expecting. Oh well..."
Master got up from the bed and reached over for a cane. "Do you remember what I told you where punishments are applied slave?"
Of course I did. Either irritants, chemicals or feet were involved. I shifted nervously as I watched the cane; looks like it was time for bastinado.
"Yes, Master. Either feet or irritants Master." The Master was busy cuffing my leg cuffs to the bed post, but it proved rather difficult to restrain them. After fiddling for a few minutes, He decided it was not going to work, and instead reached for duct tape. Was He going to tape my legs to the bed post?
But he never reached forward; He lifted my feet and started wrapping them in duct tape. Now this raised my curiosity. What was He going to do with it? The cane was back in the bag, and why did He need to wrap them anyway? As He was progressing up the left foot, at one point he unwrapped a rather long strain of duct tape and swung it over the top of my foot. On downward stroke, He yanked as hard as He could, eliciting a surprise scream from me as He applied pressure on my toes. They were painfully forced downward at the straight angle compared to the rest of the foot, and held tight by ever tightening duct tape. Pressure was building with each wrap, and I was now continuously crying/screaming almost hyperventilating, almost sure He was going to dislodge them out of place.
"You are a slave!" All I could hear is duct tape being unwrapped.
"You will act like one, and abide my wishes as your Master." My other foot exploded in pain as well.
"You made me do this!" I trashed to the sides, trying to escape the pain, anything that would help, but the cuffs gave me barely any wriggle room.
"We could have played some more, but you brought this on yourself." Overloaded with pain I could not think or act. My body acted on its own, and the guttural screams were my only escape.
"I know I agreed to this... But at the price, you are paying now." He kept going until my feet were completely mummified in duct tape, with toes unnaturally bent straight. The pain cloud slowly cleared as there was no additional pressure and I finally summoned enough clarity to make out what He was saying.
"Please Master, forgive me, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!", I managed through extensive sobbing. He observed me for a few moments, no doubt gauging how to proceed. After a short silence and respite which I desperately needed, He moved to the side of the bed.
"Get up!" Did I hear that right?!
"Get the fuck up!"
Tentatively, I lifted my feet over to the side and over, letting them barely rest on the floor.
"Get up or I will get you up!"
Trying to rest my weight on my heels I lifted myself, but as soon as I did I saw white. Breathless yelp escaped me as I tumbled back onto the bed. The sharp pain pierced deep and I couldn't breathe for a second.
"Again! And stay up!"
With tears flowing again, I forced myself to get up, knees shaking. Slowly, I managed to get up, gritting my teeth, barely managing, knees almost ready to give out. I was ready to do anything, to get off of my feet.
"I should have you walk around the room." My eyes instantly went up, and I'm sure I gave Master the most pitiful look I could manage. If He enjoyed my desperation it didn't show on His face. Still, He paused for a second, patiently studying me, while I slumped down and feared the worst.
"But I won't."
"Thank you, Master!" My prayers were answered.
Instead, I was pushed back onto the bed, my legs following in step and Master grabbed the loose duct tape on my left foot.
"You might want to prepare yourself slave, this might hurt." No sooner than the sentence was finished the tape began unwinding itself, and I saw white again. The blood came rushing back to my feet, pain almost as intense as during the initial wrap. I didn't care, however. It was over; I could see the end of the punishment session and the pain was a distant beast that could not hurt me anymore. Soon enough all of my restraints were removed and Master climbed onto the bed next to me. With sudden display of gentleness, his hand wiped away the tears from my face.
"I am so lucky to have you", a quiet whisper reached my ear.
"You please me in so many ways; I am truly lucky to have found you. Even if you are not perfect, you are perfect enough for me." My mind, still in partial daze, could only think of rollercoaster. How my feelings, emotions could so easily be flung across the extremes. How He managed in a single sentence to transmute all my sorrows and remorse into an unyielding devotion. My whole body ached, but coming down from the endorphin high I was happier than I have been for months.
"Now, let's head out for dinner and get you rested for tomorrow; we don't want to miss your graduation now, do we? Especially, since all of this would have been for naught."
As I was slowly getting dressed, I wondered if anyone was going to notice the remnants of tonight's session. But, it seemed Master was careful not to leave any visible traces, which only left me to deal with soreness. The worst was over, I vowed to myself, and if necessary I would force myself through the discomfort and act as if nothing happened. It turned out it wasn't a big issue; much more distressing was the ever present threat of revealing our relationship to others from the now ingrained slave behavior.
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