Eight Days in a Binding Contract

Friday morning. “You will address me as ‘Sir Michael’ or ‘Sir.’ You will be addressed as ‘Bitch’ because you are my bitch and likely also ‘Cunt’ or ‘Pussy’ as both of those seem to suit you too. In public or private, I may also elect to call you Bobbie or anything that pleases me. Did you bring your computer with you?” “Yes Sir”, I reply. “Good. I want you to keep a journal, a diary of sorts, to record of all that happens to you this week. You are to put in writing what you endured physically. The bounds and restraints you are put it. What your body felt. What your mind felt. The punishments and tortures administered to you. The sexual encounters you had. What you learned about you and your new life. Record your desire and need for servitude. You are to write in your journal each day before you have your breakfast covering all the activities of the day and night before. As you serve your enslavement to me continue to ponder and contemplate about it, so it sets in your mind and is easy to remember. Some of what will happen to you will make your mind a tad foggy. Focus on the details as they happen, savor and relish them, both the good and bad, and it will be easier for you to transcribe them the next day. You read BDSM/bondage and Dom/sub stories all the time. Most of them are works of fiction. You know this is real. What you’ll feel will be real. The bonds and restraints will be real. The solitude will be real. The discipline will be real. The torture will be real. The pleasures will be real. The pain will be real. Sexual use and abuse will be real. Each time you read your journal all the memories of your time here will come flooding back to you and you be ten times more aroused from it than those fiction stories ever can provide. I think it will be your new favorite book. Understand, yes? Then Bitch, let’s get started, head to the master bedroom and strip off all of your clothes.”

“Yes Sir” and I did as I was told.

“Go into the bathroom and get on the scale.” I wasn’t expecting an immediate weigh in. I had weighed myself before I showered while getting ready to travel early this morning, I was178.8 pounds naked. I should be fine. I strip and Sir immediately asks, “What is that thing you have on?”

I look down at what he was pointing at. “A male chastity device. I wore it to please you” I replied. “Let me make something clear from the start. Your job is to please me, but I decide what it is that pleases me. It’s a lesson I see I’ll need to reenforce” Sir said.

I knew what that meant. Here I was five minutes into servitude, and I was already going to be punished.

“Now get on the scale.” I do and have an ‘oh crap’ moment. “You agree that the scale reads 183 pounds? Did you not just sign a document that says you will arrive here weighing under 180 pounds? Do you recall what this means?” Crap. How could this be? Everybody’s scale reads differently, but nearly four pounds? This cock piece and lock doesn’t weigh that much. Don’t complain. Don’t make excuses. Sir Michael seems to be playing this role straight, don’t tick him off. “I’m sorry Sir” is all I replied.

Sir Michael inspected my body paying particular attention to my butt and butt hole. He twisted the chastity device till he got a reaction from me. Then told me to redress without underwear as we were going to Home Depot. He needed some chains and hooks for the afternoon, and it was something he wanted me select and purchase, like picking your own switch for a whipping. We returned home with eight lengths of sturdy chain (four 6 foot long and four 2 foot long) and ten screw eye hooks of two different sizes, the cost went on my credit card.

Sir Micheal then indicated it was time for a house and yard tour. He set limits of where I was allowed to go within the house, basically limiting me to the master bedroom, master bathroom, kitchen, garage, i.e. the dungeon and the atrium which connects the master bedroom and garage. He then showed me some of the projects that he expected me to complete in exchange for both the room & board and the training and services he was providing me.

The bedroom had Sir Michael’s queen-size bed and typical side tables, a desk holding two computers and two large screen monitors, a large breakfront glass cabinet and a massage table. It also had a nice wood fully adjustable pegging bench with padded chest, arm and leg rests, each of the rests equipped with built in restraints. There were various attachment points adorning the evil device. He took pride in introducing me to its features and potential uses. This room is where he operates his massage business, enjoys his on-line porn, chats with me on the phone, sleeps, and I assume has relations with his gay friends.

His dungeon was in his garage. It was a finished room but still retained the garage door. It was nice man-cave; well-lit but not airconditioned. There were two floor pole oscillating fans, one in each corner that could provide a nice breeze. The room had a leather sling hanging from the ceiling on chains. A stand-up pillory. A large black heavy steel dog cage. A very nice professionally made Saint Andrews Cross with built-in straps. Sir Michael made sure I saw the ratcheted straps at the top that would stretch one’s wrist upward and the drop-a-way footrests which together would effectively stretch and suspend the user. The other bounding straps along the cross would make a suspension bearable.  At least I hope it will. By Sir’s comments, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to make use of it during my stay. There was a large heavy wood bondage chair in a Vee-shape that would spread a user’s legs apart nicely when seated and had multiple arm securing points. Scary to me was a pointed pegged seating board that could be placed on the chair seat, making for great discomfort of the upper legs and butt if used. Another device was a table like board assembly, basically an 18 wide, six-foot long tabletop made of 3/4-inch plywood, attached to 2 x 4 legs, with one end’s leg set each being abound 12 inches long and the other two legs being about 30 inches long, so that an incline plane was created. The upper end of the tabletop narrowed to about just eight inches wide for the final foot of its length. This section extended past the legs. The legs were well braced. The table was very sturdy. It was unpainted. Sir indicated that this was newly created just for me. Seems like he had a plan for what he was going to do to me and was well prepared for the role he was to play. In the corner was an elliptical trainer and what appeared to be a rimming chair. There were also ample attachment points along the walls and in the ceiling. A twin-size mattress with a black fitted sheet was leaned up against one wall. There were numerous shelves with many toys. Enough dildos to open a store. There was a shelf with what appeared to be electro toys. And what scared me most was another shelf with some evil looking whips, riding crops, paddles, floggers, a nasty cat-of-9-tails and a Rattan cane. (You always forget something, I meant to add no caning to my hard list, crap.  Maybe the no visible scaring rule will save me.) There was one empty shelf that I was told was there to store the toys and leather goods I had brought with me for the week. The opposite wall had shelves where he stored his tools and other typical garage stuff. Finally, hanging on the back wall there was a very large monitor/tv, I’m guessing maybe a 75 inch, connected to a computer. Sir mentioned in passing as I looked at it that he liked his porn to be life-sized.

Sir Michael and I have discussed our individual sex activities for years. I know that at times with his friends he has dabbled in bondage, but it’s not really his thing. He’s claustrophobic. I have heard numerous times about his sling in his garage and his escapades using it. Lots of stories of gang bangs here too. But not so much about activities with bondage furniture though, so I was curious of why he had such a well-equipped dungeon. I know it wasn’t for his massage clients. He must have been reading my mind. He told me as we were finishing up the tour of the room that many of the pieces of furniture were not his. He had borrowed them from some of his friends who are more into the bondage scene. He said they had offered him advice on my training and envied the opportunity he was going to have with me. I got a twinge of anxiousness with the thought that these practiced bondage friends could be potential guests. Sir Michael then indicates the level of effort he had to extend to insure all the toys and furniture were clean and sterile per our contract and I should expect significant punishments throughout the week to make up for his efforts to outfit the room and then to make it clean just for me. Now I’m even more anxious as Sir seems to be aroused by the punishment aspects of my ordeal. Me, I like the bondage and restraints the most, I think. Well, maybe I need not worry, he’s just showing he will try to fulfil my wants. I see that my mind will have as much of a workout as will my body. Who would have thought?

The atrium was nice. It was between the dungeon and master bedroom. The three places I would likely be spending most of my time are all connected. It had a wood deck floor made of smooth 3-inch-wide fine teakwood boards stained red, bordered by nice flowerbeds. Large flowerpots and patio style chairs adorned the deck. The atrium has four enclosed walls, the bedroom wall, the garage wall, the wall of the garage of the adjacent condo, and an outside wall that faces the street. This wall was lower than the other three and allowed for the sloping mostly open roof which was comprised of open 2x8s and a center heavy wood beam. I told Sir that the space was nicely decorated. He obviously had pride in the space, and I was told it also had accent lighting that would make evening sessions with me very nice for ‘him’. The space was isolated from view, but the light road traffic and pedestrians could be heard. I was warned that when playing out here any outburst from me might be heard and that I would be severely punished if it happened. He also stated that I should expect to be gagged if I was secured there. He had a reputation and a business to protect.

He then added there was no time like the present to see if I would control myself. He told me to undress in the bedroom. Leave my clothes on his bed. I was then to report back to the atrium. I did so quickly. When I got there, Sir had a power drill in his hand and the Home Depot bag. He then indicated that outside bondage was at my request so I should install my own securing hooks and chains here. He showed me where he wanted the eye hooks installed so that they would be hidden, and I completed the task along with attaching the six-foot chains to them. It felt weird as this was the first time I had ever completed a drill project stark naked, and while not visible, still outside to boot. That is, naked other than the chastity device which was still in place. Sir Michael then had me move some of the chairs and flowerpots to the side, making for a completely clear space in the center of the deck. The moment I was done, Sir pulled on the chains to see that they were indeed secure then told me to lay down spread eagle on the deck. I complied immediately thinking I wish I had been able to take a pee first. Not wanting to add potential discipline I ignored the desire. Sir Michael retrieved four leather cuffs from the shelf in the garage and placed them on my ankles and wrists. He then placed miniature locks on each of the cuffs so that the cuffs were not removable; not that I could have gotten them off anyway. He then maneuvered me around so that I was evenly space between the chains that extended from the four corners of the deck. These were then secured to the cuffs with full sized keyed padlocks. As he attached me to the chains, he made sure each of my limbs were as taught as he could get them, limiting most, if not all, of the movement of my limbs. He then said; “FYI, the little cuff locks are not keyed the same, but they are marked. The padlocks are all keyed the same. Just following the rules, I expect you to do the same. Always. Now how do you get that chastity thing off?”

“You have the key, Sir. Just unlock the lock, then the parts will easily disassemble.” And off it came, a little sticky, pre-cum I guess. He stepped away into the garage and came back with a narrow blade riding crop. “Take a deep breath” and in a split second I am rapidly hit three times by the crop, twice in the ball sack and once on my shaft, both of which in my current predicament are fully exposed and unprotected. “Now, try to remember not to put that damn thing on without permission.” “Yes sir” I meekly responded, still catching my breath. “Did you bring a gag?” “Yes sir, different kinds. They are in the yellow tool bag in my suitcase.” I had brought a ball gag, two ring gags, a penis gag and a piece of cut sponge for filling my mouth if stuffing it was the master’s pleasure. Also in the bag, were two hoods, one a lighter style leather hood with zipped eye holes and mouth hole that secures by laces up the back, and a severe hood with no openings other than two small 1/4 inch grommeted holes by the nose. It also laces up the back but in addition has three 1-inch leather straps that tightened around the neck, over the chin and across the eyes, making it very tight and restrictive around the face and head. It feels great when on if you have that kink, I do, but it’s not for the claustrophobic. Very tight and restrictive, evil looking too. I also brought my two favorite Lovense programmable butt plugs, my favorite leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a set of four hospital style cuffs and companion restraint straps, a leather padded blindfold, a large neck collar with attachment rings, a dog collar and two leather riding crops, one of which along with the wrist cuffs had been previous gifts from Sir Michael. There were some other toys including my two Wartenberg wheels, a leather ball stretcher and a pair of nipple clamps.

Sir Michael returned with a selected gag and my blindfold, fastening the ball gag in my mouth much deeper and tighter than I do when I play self-bondage at home. Then on went the blindfold. “My inspection this morning found you a little pale. I assume that’s common to you Easterners. I’ll let you catch a little sun here, then if the mood strikes me, maybe I’ll apply some suntan lotion on you. Enjoy.” And I believe he went into his bedroom as I heard the screen close, but not the sliding door. My first thought was he was supposed to stay within view if I was gagged. Certainly, possible from the bedroom but I didn’t know. I was going to call out, but then thought, No Fool, that’s punishment for sure as I had been firmly warned.

And there I laid. In mid-May it is warm, no make that it is hot in San Diego. Sir Michael has a chiming mantle clock in his bedroom so although blindfolded I could somewhat keep track of time. About an hour into the ordeal Sir Michael called out, “I’m going to look for that Suntan lotion.” Good, I thought I’m certainly perspiring here, and I think I’m starting to burn. Listening to the clock it was more than fifteen minutes to get the lotion. I must admit, though, so far, I was really enjoying just lying there outside tightly spread eagle. My neck was sore as I had no pillow, and my head was sore too from where it was resting. Otherwise, I was fine.

I was squirted with the lotion, an unexpected shock. The spreading of the lotion showed both that, yes, he is a professional masseuse, and that, yes, he is gay. The lotion was applied everywhere he could reach. And I was made hard, although no further action was taken. Then without a word, solitude again.

I was in deep thought when I heard the phone ring and a few minutes later Sir Michael returned to advise he had a customer coming over in about 30 minutes.  He could let me up and put me in the garage or leave me here. While I couldn’t see him, I knew he was thinking it through. “I must do a little prep before the client gets here, plus I have to stow your luggage that YOU didn’t put away. We will revisit that later. So there really isn’t time to properly resecure you elsewhere. So, I’ve decided to simply leave you here. Nod your head if you don’t think you can make it. It’s a half hour till he comes then about an hour and a half till he is done and gone. Before he gets here, I’ll come remove the gag because I must close the drapes and I then won’t be able to see you. Our agreement is you are within view when gagged.”

I nodded in agreement, relieved that he did remember that safety precaution and had been watching me, besides there was not much else I could do, and at least for now I was OK. About twenty minutes later he did come back and removed the gag, which really felt good. I wasn’t use to one being in so tight, although I did like the sensation.  He then pulled my head up and said drink some water. I got most of it in from the water bottle, some dribbled down my neck. He then asked if I needed anything else. Risking possible punishment, I said “Yellow, could I have a towel or pillow for under my neck and head?”  Into the house he went and then quickly back. I now had two towels, one rolled up under my neck and one cushioning my head.  He may be playing the Dominant role but he is being compassionate and isn’t brutalizing me, at least not yet. A second sip of water and he was gone again. I heard the door shut and lock.

Wish I had some music. I listen to the street traffic, which is minimal, Sir Michael’s home is on a Cul-de-Sac. You do hear nature scurrying around and birds tweeting. I get the willies thinking of the possibility of insects crawling on me but then that is part of the mystique of being bound outdoors. I couldn’t hear the clock anymore. Time passes slowly. I really needed to pee. That water was a blessing and a curse. This is probably the longest I have ever been bound in one position in a long time. At least the bondage is comfortable, although my shoulders are starting to ache. I have minimal movement, but enough to keep from cramping. Sun is still warm but has lessened, it doesn’t seem to be beating down on me anymore. It must be getting late. I’m hungry, sure, of course, I didn’t have lunch.

Finally, I hear the door open. “Hey Bitch, you had enough for a while? Let’s eat, you’re going to have a busy evening.”