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PERMANENT BONDAGE: 6. THE SATCHEL AND THE BUCKET
He shaved my head, and then continued down my body, carefully removing all hair, down to my toes. It was an unbelievable sensation to have someone else handling and touching EVERY inch of me. I had been shaved before in scenes, but nothing like this. He was meticulous. The overhead chain was connected through a mechanism that could be adjusted by pulling either of two chains hanging against the wall. Like venetian blinds, he pulled me up or let me down, turned me around, had me kneel, and adjusted me as necessary to accommodate his careful work. When he had finished shaving me all over, he stretched me up tall, standing on my tiptoes, and stood back to admire his work. I turned around several times, balancing on my toes. He was viewing his handiwork, and surveying his new property.
He lowered my hands to about chest height and turned me around, instructing me to lean against the wall and to spread my legs apart as wide as I could. Sitting on a stool behind me, he inserted an enema nozzle into my ass. From an overhead bag he filled me up several times, stretching my gut like it had never been stretched, forcing me to hold it, then having me squat and release.
This continued until I ran clear. I had never been so clean inside! Satisfied that I was clean, he stretched me upward again. He then washed me all over with soap, rinsed me and left me hanging there to dry while he busied himself in the back of the room. I couldn't see what he was doing, but the tinkling of chain and the rustling of leather and rope kept me hard with anticipation. My hands tired quickly - my wrists were hurting, but blood was still flowing and I welcomed the slight discomfort as symbolic of my captivity.
When I was dry he lowered my hands and released them from the cuffs. I was naked and unbound in my Master's dungeon, but not for long. He re-cuffed my hands behind my back and, while I was still turned around, he took what looked like a caulking gun and, inserting the tip into my ass, filled me up with lubricant. It oozed out as he turned me around to face him, feeling squishy between my cheeks. He then retrieved a small leather device from his pocket, a harness, which fit snugly around my balls, forcing them down into their sack, and separating them with a tight leather strap. My cock was left free. It had been hard since I walked through the door. Master made no effort to control it. I wondered what would happen to my cock. Would he tie it up too? Would he contain it in an anti-erection device? Would he punish it for being hard? It longed for release...to be touched, but he ignored it!
He walked across the room and adjusted the lighting so that the middle of the room was flooded, the periphery dark. He directed me out of the wash basin and instructed me to lie on the floor with my head near a small black heavy-looking, drum-shaped metal object. A huge metal mallet lay near it. He position me with the metal object behind me and close to my neck, and pulled the satchel over toward my face. I shivered uncontrollably as he removed a heavy iron slave collar slowly from the satchel. He put it down on the floor at my nose and stood back briefly, allowing me to savor the collar. "Look at it carefully," he instructed. "You will never see it again!" As I stared at it and trembled slightly, the sinisterness of what he had just said bore down heavily upon me! I would not see it, but I would feel it, ever-present, around my slave neck!
The collar was made from curved, solid metal bands, about two inches wide, and at least a quarter of an inch thick. It was hinged, and met on the opposite side with tabs that contained holes through which a lock could be placed. On the hinged side there was a permanently attached length of heavy chain. The rest of the chain remained inside the satchel. Around the collar, equally spaced, there were four iron D-rings to which other chains, locks, ropes, etc. could be attached. It would be heavy, but I would bear it. I would have no choice. It would further bind me to him, a thought I relished.
He lifted the collar and moved it towards my neck, pulling more of the attached chain from the satchel. I followed his hands with my eyes. The chain jingled. The D-rings jingled. I lifted my head slightly as he unceremoniously placed the collar around my neck. It was cold, and immediately very heavy. It clanked slightly as he closed it and touched the tabs together behind me. He was fumbling with something behind me that I assumed was a huge lock. It was not until he picked up the mallet and began to bang away at the small anvil behind me that I realized it wouldn't be a lock, but a metal rivet that would keep the collar in place. My balls strained in their leather bondage, my hard dick bounced freely as I startled and shuddered from the loud noise. My hands pulled at the cuffs behind my back. He had said "permanent", but little did I know just how permanent he meant!
He helped me to stand, and as I stood up the gravity of my new PERMANENT collar hit me. It would take much getting used to. I would never forget that I was wearing it. It bore down on my shoulders, still cold. It would eventually warm up to by body temperature, but it would never become lighter. The attached chain extended from the satchel as I rose, adding to the weight of the collar.
Master directed me over to the wash basin, and followed me carrying the satchel. He put the satchel down beside the plastic bucket and had me turn around. Sitting on a stool as before and spreading my legs apart, he removed the leather bondage from my balls and replaced it with a locking metal ball cuff attached to a small length of chain. He then removed the handcuffs and directed me to remove the lid from the bucket. It was about half filled with a white powdery substance. Master sprayed some water into the bucket, gave me a stick and instructed me to stir the mixture. When the water was completely incorporated, he directed me to pick up the bucket and the satchel. I followed him to the center of the room, placing them beside a small square of cardboard on the floor. Master pushed the cardboard aside, revealing a round hole cut into the floor. Either the hole had not been there before, or it had been carefully concealed. In either event I had not noticed it. It was about eight inches in diameter and approximately twelve inches deep. My knees buckled under my load as I mentally pieced together his plan.
Master took the chain attached to my collar and pulled it from the satchel. At the other end of what seemed to be about a fifteen feet chain, there was a small, iron anchor. The anchor was roughly the size of the hole. His intentions were clear. He placed the anchor into the hole and instructed me to pour the liquid cement in to cover it. I poured, shaking as I did. I stood and watched as he smoothed the cement, removing the excess with a trowel. He placed a small metal frame over the hole which would hold the attached chain up off of the cement until it dryed, and directed me to follow him. I did, swinging the short chain from my balls, and dragging the long length of chain from my neck. We walked over to the corner which held the cage. I was obviously going to spend some time in the cage, a thought which sent pulses throught my throbbing dick. How much more adrenilized could I become???
(next episode: THE CAGE!)
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