We were about a half-hour outside the city when I first started feeling uneasy. I was in a stranger's car being transported down a highway at one o'clock in the morning, and the lights along the road were becoming less frequent, signaling our entry into the more sparsely populated countryside.
Of course, it was only a vague uneasiness that I felt at that point. A premonition that this excursion would end up being an embarrassing story I would tell to my friends: the time I took a late night trip upstate with three random girls, all in pursuit of getting laid by one of them. I even somewhat relished the idea of telling that story. Sure, my friends would laugh at me, but they'd also kind of admire my dedication. It brought a smile to my face, anticipating the reactions of my friends to this little caper. And perhaps that was why I didn't act on my uneasiness.
At any rate, I was presently distracted from these thoughts when the girl in the front passenger seat (Melanie, I later learned) leaned back and asked if one of us had a cell phone she could use, since hers was dead. I gave her my iPhone, and while she was using it, Emily and I started making out again.
I had met Emily in a bar earlier that night in New York City. I was there with a few friends, a regular Friday event for us. Somewhere around 11:00, I started talking to Emily at the bar as we each waited for the bartender to notice us. She was pretty and I could barely believe I was actually flirting with a pretty girl in a bar. Not that I'm ugly or anything-I'm fine, I'm normal, even decent-looking-but this kind of thing just never really happened for me in bars.
When, an hour later, she asked if I wanted to come back to her place, I was even more surprised. Especially when I learned that I'd have to take a long car ride upstate, with two of her friends, to get there.
But I didn't hesitate. Didn't even go back to tell my friends I was leaving, just slipped out the front door with Emily holding my hand and practically tugging me along, both of us pretty hammered by that point (or at least I was, and I thought she was too). I figured I'd text my friends from the road.
Now I remembered that I hadn't actually done that.
I disengaged from Emily with an apologetic smile, tapped Melanie on the shoulder and said, "Hey, sorry, but could I get my phone back as soon as you're done? Just wanna text my friends and let them know where I went."
"Um, yeah," she replied with a puzzled frown, "you can have it back now if you want. But I think it's dead. I wasn't able to use it at all."
"Huh, that's weird," I said, taking the phone back.
I pushed some buttons, held the power button down, tried to restart it-but nothing was working. Very odd. I could have sworn the battery was more than half full just a minute ago.
"I have the same phone though," Melanie said, as I played confusedly with my phone. "You can use my charger when we get to our place."
"OK, cool," I said, and went back to making out with Emily. She slid her hand up my thigh slowly and caressed my cock through my jeans. Now I couldn't wait to get to their house.
Wherever that was. Emily had explained as we left the bar that she and her two friends, who were now sitting in the driver's and passenger's seats, lived "a little bit upstate," and that they had driven into the city tonight for a girls' night out. I had assumed she meant they lived in Westchester. But now we had been on the road for over an hour, and I was starting to think these girls lived more than "a little bit upstate." They must have lived properly upstate. Still, I didn't say anything. I just sat quietly in the back seat and let Emily caress my thigh, while Julie, the designated driver, slowly progressed along the highway.
It was another half hour before we turned down an unlit road, drove for another five minutes through a thick and unpopulated forest, and then slid into a hidden driveway that I didn't even see until we were on it. The driveway was long and the house didn't come into view for another ten to fifteen seconds. Yep, this was upstate all right. These girls lived in the fucking country. But, man, was my dick hard-so I piled out of the car behind Emily without a word.
Emily's bedroom was in the basement. I found this a little strange since the house looked pretty large, and I thought there had to be more than two bedrooms upstairs. But I was glad of the privacy.
And sure enough, the moment we got down there and Emily closed the door behind us, we started going at it, drunkenly and wildly. We didn't even make it to the bed-she was already tearing my clothes off right in front of the door. I was loving it. She unbuckled the belt on my jeans, reached in and pulled my cock out, rock hard. Then she smiled and sank to her knees wordlessly, pulling my jeans off along the way and casting them aside. I just let her do her thing, closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and let the feeling wash over me.
After a minute, she stopped. I looked down and she said, "Wait right here," a mischievous smile flickering in her eyes.
She stood up and went over to a nightstand at the side of her bed.
"Don't look," she said playfully, when she noticed me watching her, and pointed to the other side of the room as if to indicate where I should be directing my gaze.
I smiled and obediently turned back to face the other way, eager to find out what she had planned. I heard a drawer open and close. Then she came up behind me, caressed my shoulders, and gently slipped something over my head, covering my eyes. A blindfold. Made from some kind of padded leather. It blocked all light from my vision, but it was comfortable, designed for this sort of thing. Definitely a kinky toy, I thought-this was getting interesting.
Dropping to her knees in front of me, she went back to sucking my cock. This time she went at it for a full two minutes before stopping.
"Wait," she said, "sorry, just one more thing."
I groaned in frustration, but my heart wasn't really in it. I was in no rush to cum, no rush to end this dalliance, and the truth was that I was enjoying her kinky little additions, the anticipation of wondering what was next.
I heard her behind me, fussing around with something, a faint clinking sound from somewhere above my head. Then she was breathing on my neck, caressing my shoulders again. The next thing I felt was something soft slipping around my neck, then, with a quick pull, tightening-and finally, the unmistakable snick of a lock. Emily released her hands, and I heard her footsteps walking away from me.
Immediately I reached up, and my hands ran over a soft piece of leather tightly encircling my neck. A collar, like one a dog would wear, except this one was clearly made for humans. Another kinky toy, surely. It had leather padding, a good inch in thickness, and was smooth around the front and sides. Groping around to the back of the collar, my hands came into contact with a metal buckle, with what felt like a heavy padlock affixed to it. Emily had pulled the collar rather tight-she must not have realized how tight it was, I reassured myself-and I could barely slip two fingers between it and my neck. Something about this feeling of restriction around my neck made me feel claustrophobic, activated a self-defense mechanism inside me, and instinctively I started tugging at the tongue that was fed through the buckle to see if I could loosen it. But I quickly apprehended that the padlock prevented that. With my escape attempt stymied, I returned to groping around the collar, and found a protruding metal ring to the right of the buckle. There was another padlock affixed to this ring, and attached to that was a chain of medium thickness. I ran my hands along the chain, which rose from my neck toward the ceiling, until I couldn't reach any farther. I tugged on the chain, and there was very little give. It was obviously attached to something on the ceiling at its other end. I took a step forward, then began to take another one, but was brought up short by the chain. I stepped back and moved in the other direction now-but again the chain pulled the collar tight against my neck. I let out a brief, involuntary cough from the pressure on my windpipe. Thus I confirmed: I was restricted to a step in each direction, and was firmly tethered to the ceiling.
Throughout my inspection, Emily said nothing. I knew she was somewhere in front of me, but she hadn't made a single sound since buckling this collar around my neck, so I had no idea what she was doing. Of course, I could have taken the blindfold off anytime I wanted. But I didn't want to spoil this moment; my cock was throbbing, and despite all these distractions, the only thing I could really focus on now was getting off. The collar was too tight and these padlocks disturbed me. But cumming was my greater concern at the moment. I wanted her to finish sucking me off. And I was afraid that if I started protesting at her kinky little games, it would kill the moment, and I wouldn't get what I came all the way out here for.
So I stood there and waited for her to resume, grinning nervously. Still she said nothing. After two minutes that felt like ten, I brought my hand shyly to my throbbing erection, took a firm hold, and gave a few perfunctory pumps. It was my way of letting her know I wanted to be touched or sucked. Anything, at this point.
She spoke now for the first time since fastening the collar around my neck.
"None of that," she said calmly, from somewhere about five feet in front of me.
I let my hand drop to my side. To tell the truth, I was starting to get annoyed, but I nonetheless kept grinning nervously, trying to show that I was in on this game too. Another minute passed. I was properly nervous now, I didn't like this tight collar around my neck at all. But I thought the best way to get what I wanted would be to play along.
Plus, it wasn't lost on me that I was now at her mercy, and a very long way from home. I didn't think for a moment that she would actually keep me here against my will, if I asked her to let me go. But I had a vague understanding that my freedom was in her hands-I wasn't going anywhere without her say-so-and that it would therefore be best to keep her happy.
"So, uh, what's next," I asked, trying to sound like I was still enjoying the game.
Emily didn't respond. She didn't make a sound. Yet I knew she was still in the room, since I had never heard the door open.
I waited another minute, expecting that at any moment she would start sucking my cock again, and all my unease would be immediately dispelled. But at last I couldn't take it anymore.
I reached up and pushed the blindfold up onto my forehead. Sure enough, there was Emily, standing against the opposite wall, watching me. She looked highly amused by my predicament, and this look of amusement didn't do much to quell my rising anger at the situation.
Still smiling, she said, "Put that back on," and pointed vaguely toward my head, indicating the blindfold.
I ignored this directive.
"What's going on?" I asked, doing everything I could to keep the rising annoyance (and, I admit, panic) out of my voice. "Why did you stop?"
She ignored my questions.
"I said put the blindfold back on," she said, and I caught something sterner in her voice this time. I didn't like it.
"Why?" I asked.
She said nothing, only crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.
In a desperate moment, I brought my hands up to the collar again, pulled at the buckled strap, tugged on the chain, but my efforts only confirmed once again that I was stuck.
"Hello?" I demanded. "Can you answer me please? Why did you put this thing on me? What-why are you just standing there?"
She was only five feet from me. If the chain had allowed me a couple more steps, I could have reached out and grabbed her. Yet to all my inquiries, she still said nothing, just kept smiling and watching me as if I wasn't standing there five feet from her, demanding answers. It was infuriating. And I suppose I was allowing my frustration to show.
In one final attempt to play along, to show I was cool and could handle a little kink, to get us back to where we had been, I added: "Can we get back to business here? Hehe. That blowjob felt amazing-can we go back to that? You can even keep me chained up here if you want, hehe."
"I know I can," she intoned calmly.
Still she didn't move. Had I said the wrong thing?
"Do you, uh, do you want me to go down on you or something? If you take this thing off my neck, I can, uh, return the favor. I've been known to be pretty good with that."
I hoped my offer sounded enticing. If she would just take this collar off, I'd have the situation in hand again, and this time I wouldn't let her put anything else on me so trustingly. I didn't even really care if I got laid anymore. This was too weird, I just wanted out, and I'd say anything to get free.
Suddenly she pushed herself from the wall and took a step forward.
"I'll be right back," she said, "I need to get a few things. Just wait there."
And she turned her back to me and opened the door to leave.
"Wait!" I shouted.
She looked back at me over her shoulder, expectantly.
"I, um"-I didn't know what to say-"could you please just take this collar off? I'm down to fool around and do whatever, but I don't think I like this game anymore. I'm sorry to ruin the moment. Could you please just take this off?"
I couldn't hide the fear in my voice, and I found it very humiliating to have to beg like this.
Emily smiled widely and even closed her eyes for a lingering moment, like a woman in a TV commercial biting into a luscious piece of chocolate. But that was the only response I got. The next moment she was out the door.
"Wait!" I called again, but she had already closed the door behind her.
"Hey!" I shouted at the closed door. "Emily?" I waited five seconds. "Emily!"
Now I was pissed. In a fit of frustration, I started tearing at the collar, pulling at it from both ends with all my strength. But have you ever tried to tear a thick piece of leather before? Naturally my efforts were to no avail. Next I grabbed the chain and did the same thing: tugged at it with every ounce of my power, digging my feet into the ground and pulling frantically with the full weight of my body. But when I looked up, I saw that it was still firmly affixed to an eyebolt in the ceiling. I tugged a couple more times and then gave up. As I stared at the ceiling, I saw that, next to the eyebolt holding the chain, there was another long hook hanging a few feet to the left. The collar I was now wearing must have been hanging from there when I first came into the room with Emily. I could only assume that she had pulled it down from its perch while she had me blindfolded, and that the chain was already attached well in advance. The realization that Emily had planned all of this was now sinking in.
I tore the blindfold from my head and threw it on the floor in my exasperation. With my eyes now uncovered, I took stock of the room. It was sparse. The only furniture was the bed and the lone nightstand from which Emily had taken the blindfold. I was standing about five feet from the bottom of the bed, on a bare carpeted floor. There was a single window above the bed, a tiny one, set in the top of the wall, the way basement windows are. And the window was largely occupied by a long tube-like apparatus that connected, at its other end, to what I recognized as a standing air conditioner, the type used in rooms that don't have large windows.
None of these things was within my reach. I had nothing to do but stand there and wait.
I started to rationalize the situation to myself. Just before Emily left the room, I had asked her to take the collar off. And she hadn't. This was now a non-consensual situation, I thought, feeling bile rise in my throat. But wait. Up until just a few minutes ago, I had been playing along. She might have thought I was still into this. Yes, she had taken it a little too far-she should have let me go as soon as I asked her to. But this was all still a game. She had probably just misunderstood how uncomfortable I was. If I got really serious, and clearly demanded to be let go, she would obviously let me go. She wasn't going to keep me here against my will. That would be a crime; that would be a crazy.
All of this seemed obvious to me now. We were both pretty drunk, that was all. She had taken the game a little too far. I would explain to her when she came back that I wanted her to let me out. And that would be that. I started to relax.
But one minute turned into five, five turned into ten, ten into fifteen. I shifted from one foot to the other. I wanted to sit down. This was ridiculous, where the hell did she go? Fifteen turned into twenty.
"Emily?" I called. "Hello? Anyone?"
I was still reticent to scream at the top of my lungs. I didn't want to seem like I thought I was being kidnapped, or something ridiculous like that. I'd look like a fool, a scared fool. It was only a game-though admittedly, she was taking this way too far.
I yelled a few more times for anyone who could hear me, a little louder each time. No one ever responded. I didn't have any way of telling time, hanging naked from the ceiling, with no clock in the room, but I was pretty sure that at least an hour passed before Emily finally came back. By that point, I was exhausted from my drunkenness, my legs were tired, and I was done. Fucking done. As soon as she opened the door, I started making demands.
"Hey, what the fuck? Where the hell did you go? I've been stuck here for like an hour, this is uncomfortable as hell. Listen, please just take this collar off. I've had enough of this. I'm not playing around anymore. I'm serious. Take it off. This is me, telling you, I do not want this collar around my neck anymore! Please take it off. . ."
As I trailed off, I began to take stock of Emily's changed appearance. There was no other way to say it: she was in her pajamas. A matching, baggy flannel shirt and pants, and some comfortable-looking socks. Her long blond hair was pulled into a lazy ponytail. And she had taken off her makeup. Gone was the sparkly eye makeup, gone was the bright red lipstick. Her face was bare now and she looked tired, as if she were about to go to bed.
Most shocking of all was what she was carrying in her hands. Two pairs of handcuffs. As I stared at her, taking this all in, she tossed both pairs of handcuffs at my feet.
"Put them on," she said flatly. "One on the ankles, one on the wrists. Behind your back. Latch them tightly so you can't slip out."
She was no longer smiling.
I stared at the two pairs of handcuffs lying at my feet. The collar chain was probably just long enough that I could reach down and pick up the handcuffs. But I wasn't about to do that.
"Um, no," I said. "Did you just hear me or what? Please take this collar off. Right now. I'm not putting anything else on. I've told you already, I don't want to play this game anymore. This is enough already, I'm exhausted, and I'm not into this anymore. Take the fucking collar off."
"We're not playing a game," she said. "Now put the handcuffs on. One on the ankles, one on the wrists. Behind your back. Make sure they're tight enough that you can't slip out."
I stared at her dumbfounded.
Finally, I said, "No. I want to stop this now." I hoped those would be the magic words.
"Fine," she said. "There's no rush. You will put the handcuffs on. But whether you do it now or later makes no difference to me. I'm really tired anyway, so I'm going to bed." She yawned theatrically. "I'll come check on you in the morning, and I expect you to be wearing those handcuffs, exactly like I said."
"Wh-what?" I stammered.
I simply couldn't assimilate the idea that she was about to go to bed. What did she mean? I was still chained to the ceiling; she couldn't go to bed.
"Good night," she said with a shrug.
And she turned out the lights and left. I called after her, but the results were the same as before. I even gave in to the humiliation I had avoided before: I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping to wake the other two girls. It embarrassed me deeply to be in this position, screaming for help like a feeble child. It brought the reality of my situation into stark relief. But still my screams produced no results. No one came.
I went through the motions of tearing at the collar again, tugging at the chain, but I knew it was useless.
In the end all I could do was stand and wait.
Needless to say, I had a rough night. I won't bore you with all the details. Suffice it to say that, by the time the sun started pouring in through the tiny window above the bed, I was near my breaking point.
My feet and legs were exhausted. I couldn't move from my standing position at all, couldn't rest in any way. I was drunk for the first half of the night, and hungover for the second half. I was thirsty as hell. I was just beginning to feel hungry too. Worst of all, I was tired. So tired. As the night wore on, and even through parts of the early morning, I repeatedly fell asleep despite my standing position. Each time this happened, I had an extremely unpleasant awakening, sputtering and coughing as, with my legs wobbling beneath me, I was held up by nothing other than the unforgiving collar around my neck.
In my pain and my exhaustion, delirious from lack of sleep, it was all I could do not to cry.
During the brief bouts where I was able to keep my wits about me, through the long night, I had time to think. My thoughts only fed my growing anxiety. Specifically, it became clear to me that this whole situation had been very carefully planned by Emily, and that her friends were possibly in cahoots. For example, I was pretty sure there had been plenty of battery life left in my phone, and I suspected that Melanie (the girl who rode in the passenger seat) had somehow disabled it. As a result, no one would be able to track my movements last night by checking my phone data. And I had no idea where I was, except that it was a very remote and secluded location. I tried not to think too much about these things.
And then there was Emily's demeanor once she had gotten the collar around my neck. She became a different person. One second she was all over me, kissing me, sucking my cock-and the next, she wouldn't even talk to me. She had been staring at me like I was a lifeless decoration, hanging from the ceiling. And one of the last things she had said to me kept ringing in my head: "You will put the handcuffs on." She was so confident. I was scared.
Hours after the sun came up, I finally heard footsteps outside the door. This time, Emily entered with the other two girls, Melanie and Julie.
"Did you have a good night?" Emily asked as they entered. The girls stood three abreast in front of me, but out of my reach.
"Please," I said, cutting right to the chase, "please just take this collar off. You don't know how tired I am. This is horrible. I'll do whatever you want, just please take this collar off."
Emily raised an eyebrow.
"You know what I want. Pick up those handcuffs, and put them on. One on the ankles, one on the wrists. Behind your back. And make sure you latch them tightly so you can't slip out."
"No way," I blurted. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?"
"You were stupid enough to come out to a strange girl's house in the middle of nowhere. You were stupid enough not to tell anyone where you were going, and to let Melanie here destroy your phone before you could. And you were stupid enough to let this strange girl chain you to the fucking ceiling. So yeah, I think you're that stupid."
Julie, the one who had been driving, snickered. Meanwhile, Melanie piped up:
"Yeah, I destroyed your phone. Poured three bottles of soda all over it while you were in the back seat making out, paying no attention. It's definitely broken. Like, for good. Sorry about that."
But she didn't look sorry. She said it all with a huge grin.
"I'm-" I stammered, "I don't get it. Why are you girls doing this? Pl-please, let me out of here."
At that, all three girls laughed loudly.
"Wow," said Julie, "he's really started to crack up already."
"I can't wait to see how he reacts once we really get going," Melanie put in.
"Aw, give the poor guy a break," Emily countered. "He's had a rough night. Haven't you?" she added, in a cooing baby voice, turning to face me. "I bet you want me to take that collar off your neck so you can rest your tired feet, don't you?"
"Y-yes," I said, barely daring to hope she meant it, "please. That's what I've been saying. Please just take it off."
"Well you know what to do. All you have to do is put those handcuffs on, like I said, and I promise, I'll take that nasty collar off. Wouldn't you like that?"
She continued to address me in the same cooing baby voice, and to my horror, I found it mildly comforting.
I would have done almost anything to get the collar off at that point. I strained to reach down, and picked up the two pairs of handcuffs, held them in front of my eyes and examined them.
"Very good," Emily encouraged. "Come on now. One on the ankles, one on the wrists. Behind your back. Latch them tightly so you can't slip out."
Hearing Emily repeat this mantra again, I remembered all my reasons for not putting the handcuffs on in the first place. The spell was broken. I dropped the handcuffs back to the floor and looked up at my captors, defiant.
"No," I said. "I'm not putting them on. Listen, do you guys realize what this is? This is kidnapping. You're keeping me here against my will. This is a fucking crime. You could go to jail for this, this is crazy. Just let me go now, before this goes too far."
I felt proud of my speech for about two seconds. Then Julie let out a frustrated sigh.
"Come on, girls," she said. "This is a total waste of time. He's not cooperating. Let's give him some more time to think about it."
"Is that what you want?" Emily asked me. "You need some more time to think about it?"
"What? No!" I declared. "No, I don't need any more time, just let me go right now. I'm serious!"
Emily turned back to her two friends.
"Yeah, he definitely needs some more time to think about it."
Turning back to me, she suddenly asked, "Are you thirsty?"
"Yes," I said. "Yes, I'm thirsty,"
"Julie," Emily said, "could you get him some water."
Julie stepped back into the hallway and returned carrying a bucket. I was wondering how they expected me to drink from a bucket when my thoughts were rudely interrupted, as Julie leaned forward and flung the bucket's contents directly at me. I was hit all over by a blast of ice cold water, and some bits of nearly-melted ice even pelted my body.
"HOOOHH-AHHH," I screamed, my teeth chattering.
It was March, the temperature outside was in the low 30s, and this basement room had been cold to begin with. While I made involuntary sounds of freezing agony and tried to rub myself for warmth, the girls all just laughed. Melanie walked over to the corner of the room and started fiddling with the air conditioner unit.
"No," I started, "no, no, please don't do that."
But with a series of bleeps, the air conditioner started up.
"I set it to 56," Melanie said. "That should be a good start."
Emily and Julie couldn't even respond, they were laughing so hard.
Finally Emily collected herself to address my shivering form: "We're gonna give you a few more hours to think about your predicament. I think you'll find you only have one option. We'll be back sometime this afternoon, and I expect to see you wearing those handcuffs, just like I said, when we get back. Bye for now."
And they left.
I rubbed my chest and arms with all my energy, trying to get the blood flowing again. I never stopped feeling painfully cold, with the air conditioner going full blast, but eventually I was able to at least think again. And I knew Emily was right. I waited maybe two hours, made a few more token efforts at trying to unlatch the collar or tear the chain from the ceiling, and finally, I reached down to pick up the handcuffs again.
But putting them on turned out to be harder than expected. I was able to secure one leg by lifting it, but I had to leave one foot on the ground at all times, and so, with the handcuff chain being so short, I couldn't get the other end of the cuffs on my other ankle-the chain around my neck simply wasn't long enough for me to bend that far.
I was concerned what would happen if the girls came back and I still hadn't put the cuffs on. My agony was worsening by the minute. I couldn't stand here any longer. Would they leave again, and give me more time to "think about it?" I prayed they would understand, and I waited.
By the time they returned, I could tell by the fading light through the window that the sun was beginning to set.
"I see you've decided not to put the cuffs on, as you were told to do," was the first thing Emily said as she entered the room with the other two girls in tow. "You're going to regret that."
At the same time, Julie advanced with another bucket of water and an evil look in her eye.
"No! Wait, please!" I screamed, still shivering from the last time and desperate not to be doused again. "I tried! I just couldn't reach! Please, I swear, I tried!"
Julie paused, with the bucket onto her left hip, and looked to Emily. Emily signaled her to wait.
Turning back to me, Emily said, "You're going to need to try harder than that. You've got-" she looked at her watch "-sixty seconds to get those handcuffs on, exactly like I told you. Or else you're getting the water again, and then we're not coming back again until tomorrow morning. Honestly, I'm not sure if you'll make it that long." She shrugged. "OK, your time starts . . . now!"
I knew she was right. I didn't think I'd make it to the morning. I was shivering uncontrollably, with my hair still wet and the air conditioner blowing directly at me. I feared I would contract hypothermia soon. And that's not to mention my gnawing hunger and desperate need for a drink.
Immediately I began jumping up and down, trying to grab my free foot and latch the other handcuff to my ankle. It seemed impossible and my efforts elicited hysterical laughter from the girls. Finally, I managed to hoist myself aloft by pulling myself up on the chain with one hand, and with both feet in the air, I miraculously finished latching the handcuffs to my ankles with my free hand.
"That's one," said Emily. "Now the wrists. You've got . . . fifteen seconds left."
Without thinking, I snatched the other set of handcuffs from the floor and, after a bit of fumbling, closed them around my wrists behind my back.
"Good boy," said Emily, and for the first time since putting the collar around my neck, she came close to me. "Now let's see how you've done." She circled around behind me. "Ah, ah, ah," she said, "I thought I told you I wanted these handcuffs tight."
I had thought they were tight, as they were already chafing my skin, but I learned better when Emily pressed on the cuffs and they advanced two more clicks. Now my wrists were actually in pain, and I cried out. Ignoring my noises, Emily repeated the process on my ankles.
As she was securing my bonds further, Julie and Melanie advanced and began circling me. I had never felt so vulnerable, naked before three fully clothed girls, chained by my neck to the ceiling, and with my hands and feet bound by cold steel. Suddenly Julie grabbed hold of my balls firmly. I could do nothing to stop her; I only whimpered as she leaned in close to my ear.
"These belong to us now," she whispered, squeezing a little harder to enforce her point. "Your whole body belongs to us. We're going to do whatever we want to you, and you can't do anything to stop it. I cannot wait to break you."
"Why?" was all I could think of to say. "Why are you doing this? What are you doing? Why me? Wh-what is all this about?"
"It's very simple," Julie said, letting go of my testicles and stepping back.
While she spoke the other two girls rejoined her, standing in front of me. As my mind reeled, I began to notice how small Emily and Melanie were. Though Julie was larger, maybe 5'8", a bit dykish, with some heft to her, neither Emily nor Melanie could have been taller than 5'3". The humiliation of being subjugated by these dainty girls was not lost on me.
"We've all been waiting a long time for this," Julie continued. "Long story short: the three of us met around four years ago, on an online BDSM forum. We figured out that we all lived near each other, and that we had similar interests. In short, we figured out that we were all really depraved, and probably sociopaths." She shrugged. "At least, we're honest with ourselves, right?
"Anyway, we started meeting up together, and it wasn't long before we all agreed that we wanted someone to practice on. A slave, if you will. Now, there are plenty of people who would have volunteered for that pleasure, but that wasn't quite good enough. No, we all agreed, we wanted to take someone against their will. So the first thing we did was pool our resources, save up for two years, and we bought this place. This house. It was perfect. Secluded, quiet, and in the middle of nowhere. We moved in, and we started devising a plan.
"The next step, of course, was to find a slave. Which is where you come in. Last night was our third attempt to get some idiot to come back here. You fell for it hook, line, and sinker. We couldn't believe it when you left that bar without even telling your friends where you were going. It was perfect. Then, in the car, as you know, Melanie destroyed your phone." Melanie smirked, and gave me a little wave. "And finally, Emily got you down here, and you know the rest."
Whatever blood was left in my face drained now. Julie's speech was horrifying. This couldn't be real, I thought.
"Now," Emily said, "I bet you're pretty hungry and thirsty, right?"
"Yes," I managed to croak, almost too shocked to speak.
"Well, if you're a good boy, we'll get you some food and drink in a short while. Can you be a good boy for me?"
I nodded stupidly. Even though I hated being spoken to so condescendingly, I desperately needed food and water.
"Let me hear you say it."
"I-I'll be a good boy," I stammered.
Speaking those words was the single most humiliating moment of my life up to that point.
"You got this?" Julie asked Emily quietly, in an aside.
"Yeah, I'm all set," Emily responded.
Turning back to me, Julie said, "All right, then. Now the fun begins. Sadly for me, since Emily was the one who captured you, she gets the pleasure of being the first one to bind you. Melanie and I will be back a little later. You two enjoy yourselves."
Julie and Melanie left, leaving me alone with Emily, as I tried to comprehend what Julie had meant about Emily "binding" me. Wasn't I already tied up?
Alone in the room with Emily, this petite and harmless-looking blonde, my first thoughts were of attempting escape. I thought that, maybe, now that she was no longer staying out of my reach, I could wrestle her into some sort of headlock, even with my hands cuffed behind my back, and force her to unlock the collar and cuffs. But I recognized this fantasy for what it was: a last resort, unlikely to succeed in any event.
So while I waited for an opportunity, I started begging.
"Emily, listen, can we please talk about this? You know this is nuts, right? I mean, you can't just keep me here. I have friends and family, who are probably all really worried about me at this point. I have a job. When I don't show up on Monday, they're going to notice. Seriously, do you really think you can get away with this?"
Ignoring me, Emily dragged a duffle bag from under the bed. She calmly produced multiple coils of rope from the bag and laid them on the floor in front of me. Seeing this, I started bucking in my bonds, and redoubled my negotiating efforts. But I could hardly think straight, let alone form cogent arguments.
"Hey, stop! Are you fucking crazy? You're gonna get arrested for this shit, are you nuts?! I swear to fucking god, when I get out of this..."
I trailed off, watching in horror as Emily produced a Taser from her bag, turned it on, and generated a few experimental bolts of electricity from its two metal tips. Where the hell had this girl gotten a Taser?
"Let me explain to you how this is going to work," she said calmly. "As Julie already explained to you, you are now a slave. And as a slave, there are certain rules you're going to have to follow. The first rule is, you do not speak unless you are told to speak. Do you understand that rule, slave? Don't speak, just nod yes or no."
Slowly, I nodded.
"Good boy," she said. "The second rule is, when you do speak, you will address us only as Mistress. I am Mistress Emily, and the other two are Mistress Julie and Mistress Melanie. Do you understand that rule, slave? This time you may speak."
My face was burning with embarrassment at the way this tiny girl was speaking to me, as if I were some little boy-as if she owned me. This was too much. I wouldn't call her Mistress. I couldn't.
"Fuck you," I spat. "I'm not playing by your stupid rules. Let me the fuck out of here now-I'm done with this."
"How disappointing," Emily drawled. "That brings me to my last point. If you disobey the rules, or just do anything that we don't like-you will be punished. And you've just earned your first punishment. I promise you, when your punishment begins, you are going to be looking back at this moment and wishing you hadn't just spoken to me that way."
"Also," she continued "you've just earned your first shock from this nasty little toy here."
She held up the Taser close to my face, sending some more sparks flying from its tip. I recoiled in horror.
"This is not your punishment, I'm afraid. That will come later, and you will like it a whole lot less. No, the Taser is simply a compliance tool. In a couple minutes, I'm going to begin tying you up. And if you resist me in any way, I will shock you. The shock I'm going to administer now will be on the "low" setting. Just to give you a taste, so to speak."
"Please don't shock me," I whimpered. "I get it now. I'm sorry I cursed at you, I just lost my cool. Please don't shock me."
"How quickly we forget the rules, slave. How are you supposed to address me?"
Swallowing what little pride I had left, I hung my head and murmured, "Mistress."
"That's right. So would you like to try that again?"
"Please don't shock me...Mistress."
"Much better. But unfortunately, I'm still going to have to shock you. You need to understand what will happen if you resist me. And anyway, you've already earned this, with that mouth of yours."
I could do nothing as she advanced and pressed the cold metal tips of the Taser to my exposed belly. Seconds later, a sickening jolt coursed through my body. I thrashed involuntarily in my bonds, the steel cutting into my wrists and ankles, and ultimately dangled by my neck from the infernal collar until I could finally get my feet under me again. I had been expecting pain, and I got it, but what I hadn't foreseen was the horrible, indescribable, stomach-churning feeling: a feeling like nothing I had ever experienced. The shock only lasted a second, but I was left with a lingering nausea far beyond anything I had ever felt before.
"Just be glad I'm not Julie," Emily said as I struggled to recover. "She's a pure sadist, and I'm sure she would have thought up much more painful and creative methods of compliance, if she were the one tying you up. Of course, she'll have her chance to use you as she pleases too, eventually. Now, are you going to be a good slave while Mistress Emily ties you up?"
Feeling like I might vomit, I nodded furiously, unable to form words yet with my mouth.
"Excellent. I'm curious, slave, have you ever been tied up before?"
"No . . . Mistress," I said, defeated.
"Are you sure about that, slave? Not even as a child, playing 'cops and robbers' or something like that? Think before you speak. If I suspect you're lying to me, you're going to get the Taser again."
"Um, yes, I think once or twice as a kid. But just, like, playing around. Nothing serious like this."
Emily suddenly slapped me across the face.
"I'm going to let that one slide, but you'd better remember the rules for addressing me very quickly or things are going to get even more unpleasant. Now, have you ever been gagged?"
"Perfect. That means I'll be the first person to force something into that mouth of yours." She shivered with anticipation. "I'm getting wet just thinking about it."
She went back to the bed and dragged a small step ladder from beneath it. Setting it up in front of me, she next returned to the duffle bag and pulled out what I recognized as a ball gag. Except this one had considerably more straps on it than I would have expected.
Climbing the step ladder to stand face-to-face with me, she ordered, "Open your mouth, slave."
Still reeling from the Taser, I meekly complied. I did not want to be gagged, but I couldn't take another shock.
Emily placed the bright red ball against my teeth, and, applying slow and steady pressure, managed to slip the ball past my teeth, where it plopped neatly into the cavity of my mouth. Already my jaw was straining to accommodate the large ball. Emily reached around my head and fastened a strap against the back of my neck, pulling it tight. Next she draped two straps along either side of my nose, which met between my eyes and continued over the top of my head as one strap, where Emily pulled it down and connected it to the first strap behind my head. Finally she pulled a third strap beneath my chin. She tightened it viciously, the straps cutting into my chin, and the pressure forced me to bite down on the foul-tasting ball. She climbed down from the ladder and immediately I began trying to manipulate the ball with my tongue, trying to see if I could get some relief from the discomfort, which was quickly mounting. I couldn't. Yet Emily still wasn't satisfied. She circled behind me with the stepladder, and presently I felt her hands fumbling at the back of my neck. With a jerk, I felt her forcing the straps through the next-tightest hole, and then she even went one further. Whereas I was uncomfortable before, now I was wondering how long she could possibly expect me to stand this insane restraint. The straps were cutting into my cheek and pressing painfully all around my head. The ball was forced deep back in my mouth and I began to gag. And my gagging caused me to salivate rapidly. Unable to swallow with the huge ball in my mouth, my saliva quickly turned to drool, which spilled out past my lower lip and dribbled down my chin. Soon a steady stream of drool was cascading down my chin, some of it pooling on the floor in front of me while still more streamed down my neck and chest, all the way to my navel. The humiliation of being unable to control even this basic bodily function, and being covered in my own bodily fluids, was almost too much to bear. I worked my jaw as much as I could and tried to push at the ball with my tongue, but the straps were brutal, and the ball remained firmly entrenched in my mouth.
Emily stepped back and took in my helpless visage.
"Oh, I like that," she purred. "That's a pretty basic gag, by the way. I didn't want to overwhelm you right at the start. We'll be getting into the heavier stuff soon enough though, don't worry."
I shook my head and strained against my bonds as noisily as I could to show my discomfort, but Emily took no notice as she bent down to pick up one of the coils of rope and once again circled behind me. I heard one end of the rope hit the floor as she uncoiled it. Then she was wrapping the rope around my wrists, just above the biting metal of the handcuffs. She looped it around my wrists five or six times, and finished by running the rope through the small remaining space between my wrists twice, cinching it tightly. My wrists were now pressed together tightly-much more tightly than the handcuffs had held them-and though the rope was mercifully soft, it nonetheless had absolutely no give. I flailed my hands uselessly upward at the rope, but the knot was well out of reach.
"Go ahead and flap your little fingers, slave," Emily teased. "Enjoy it while you can. I'll be taking that freedom from you soon."
With a bored and workmanlike air, she picked up another coil of rope and unspooled it. This time I felt her position the rope just above my right elbow, then my left, then loosely wrap it a few times around both. Up to this point, my elbows remained a relatively comfortable distance apart, drawn only slightly closer together than normal by the rope around my wrists. Now Emily pressed one hand into my upper back, and with the other she pulled hard on the loose end of the rope. The effect was that my elbows were suddenly drawn closer together across my back. Pain shot through my shoulders. I screamed through the gag, frothing saliva all around it.
"Hush, now," Emily scolded, though I continued grunting and whining in pain.
She continued apace. Still not satisfied, she placed one foot against my butt and pulled again on the loose end of the rope, this time throwing her entire weight behind it. The gap between my elbows shrank to maybe eight inches. Holding my elbows fast in this excruciating position, Emily quickly wrapped the remaining rope around the rope that was fastened between my elbows, finishing once again by cinching it tightly. When she stepped back, my arms remained locked in place.
This was unbearable: my shoulders couldn't take it. When Emily first said she was going to tie me up, all I had thought about was the indignity of being helpless and restrained. I had never imagined it could be this painful. I thought I would pass out if she didn't loosen these elbows ropes in the next sixty seconds. My muffled squeals swelled to a crescendo and I thrashed around with my limited mobility.
"I said, hush," Emily said, unmoved by my panic. Rearing back, she landed five hard smacks against each of my butt cheeks.
But the pain was too much, and I continued to squeal and writhe in my bonds.
"I understand this is a lot to handle," Emily said from behind me. "But you had better get a grip on yourself very fucking quickly. Be quiet and stop moving around. Or do I need to use the Taser again?"
Even in the haze of my pain and my panic, I understood the danger of that threat. Settling down, I shook my head wildly from side to side, and stilled myself.
"That's better," Emily said, coming around in front of me again.
"Look at me," she ordered, and I did. "Now are you going to calm down and be a good boy while I finish tying you up?"
Reluctantly, I nodded.
"Let me hear you say it."
Say it? I was gagged. I swung my head around and worked my lips around the gag, trying to indicate that I couldn't say anything. Emily advanced menacingly and took a firm hold of my balls. I stopped moving.
"Slave, I want to hear you say, 'Yes, I'll be a good boy, Mistress.'"
"Efhh," I said ridiculously through the ball gag, "agghh eee a hoohh hhaaaw, iggghriggghh."
Emily giggled. "Good, you're learning. Now let me hear you say, 'Please tie me up some more, Mistress Emily.'"
She kept a firm grip on my testicles as she waited for me to comply.
Utterly humiliated, mind reeling in pain, I managed to emit the following noises: "Eeesshh iigghh ee ughhh ugghh aawwhh, igghriggh eehhhiiee."
My pathetic attempts at speech caused me to slaver uncontrollably, fresh globules of drool pouring over my bottom lip. This was where I broke down for the first time. Having been standing in the same place for nearly 24 hours with a collar and chain around my neck, drenched in ice cold water and left to hang, my mouth stuffed with a rubber ball and straps tightly hugging my entire face and head, bound in unrelenting rope, my elbows drawn close together and pain emanating persistently from my shoulders, unable to resist in any way, and now being forced by a tiny girl to slobber and beg-I, a 26-year old, grown-ass man, began to cry. Tears streamed down my face and I sobbed uncontrollably. Almost immediately, gobbets of snot spewed from my nostrils and hung there. I couldn't even wipe them from my nose.
Laughing at my plight, my tormentor reached up and smeared the running mucus and drool all over my face with her hand. This indignity piled on top of everything else only intensified my crying, which produced even more mucus and drool. I was a sobbing, drooling, snotty, pathetic mess.
Emily stepped back, laughing hysterically, and watched me until finally, after a few minutes, I returned to some semblance of composure. Then, as if nothing had happened, still chuckling slightly, she reached back into the horrible duffle bag and withdrew six rolls of black electrical tape.
"Time to take away those naughty little fingers. Now be a good boy and ball your hands into fists, and hold them like that."
I simply couldn't believe what was happening. Too emotionally and physically battered to think straight, I made a mistake. I resisted. I started swinging my head back and forth and stretching my fingers out straight to try to show Emily I wouldn't do it, couldn't take anymore.
Emily just gave an exasperated sigh and took the Taser from out of her pocket. Before I could even try to beg her from around my gag not to do it, she pressed the metal tips to my gut and fired away. The second time was even worse than the first, since I was now much more immobile. As a result, thrashing uncontrollably, I ended up choking, practically being hanged, for considerably longer before I could stand up straight again. I was sure I would vomit this time. Thankfully I did not.
"You're going to have to learn to do what I tell you. Or this is going to be even more unpleasant for you. Now ball your hands into fists, and hold them like that."
Of course I complied this time.
I was surprised when the next thing I felt was Emily manipulating the handcuffs, and then the steel falling away from my wrists.
"We don't need those anymore," she said.
This minor act of mercy provided me no relief, however. With my hands bound so tightly in rope, I had long since ceased to even notice that the handcuffs were still there.
As I continued to compliantly clench my fists, I felt Emily place a strip of the sticky electrical tape just above the knuckle on my right index finger. From there, she began to wrap. Steadily she wrapped the tape tightly around all four of my bent fingers, my thumb, and eventually my whole hand. She proceeded to wrap all the way down to where the rope cut into my wrists, then doubled back, wrapping my entire hand two more times. She hummed while she worked and I just drooled miserably around the ball gag. She repeated the process on my left hand and finally stepped back to admire her work.
My hands were a mass of black tape now. I could just barely manage to flex my fingers, with great effort, but that was all. This was an entirely new form of restraint that I never could have imagined. With each new layer of bondage, I felt the remaining shards of my dignity and my will to resist slipping away. I wasn't cut out for this. I doubted whether any human could be.
"Well, I think that looks really sexy," Emily said. "Your hands are totally useless now. You don't even really have hands anymore, they're more like paws. Let me see you flap your useless paws around a little bit."
I looked up at her through the web of the ball gag straps. Was she serious?
"Go on," she prodded. "I said flap your stupid little paws. Do you need some motivation?"
I closed my eyes, a couple fresh tears slipping out of them, and waggled my tightly taped-up fists.
"Aw, that was so cute. OK, now time to finish your bondage. Are you excited for me to put some more rope on you, slave?"
Not waiting for me to respond, since I couldn't anyway, she unraveled another coil of rope and began to wrap it around my ankles, just above the handcuffs. Ultimately she used four more coils of rope on my legs, tightly wrapping and cinching at the ankles, the upper shins, just above the knees, and the upper thighs. She used the same knot and method as she had used when binding my arms. Lastly she removed the handcuffs around my ankles. When she had finished, my legs were held firmly together, and I stood pencil straight beneath the chain connecting me to the ceiling. The only movements I could make were to shake my head (only somewhat limited by the collar), bend at the waist (again, as far as the collar would allow me), turn partially from side to side, flap my taped-up fists, and waddle slightly with my feet. Oh, and I could also blink, work my lips a little bit around the ball gag, and wiggle my toes. But the toe movement, I was soon to learn, was only temporary.
"Hang in there," Emily addressed my thoroughly bound form, "we're almost done now. Are you ready for me to release you from that collar chain?"
I nodded vigorously, causing the drool hanging from my chin to fly about. Using the step ladder again, Emily reached up and unlatched the padlock attaching my collar to the ceiling chain. Even in my wretched state, I felt some relief as my neck was no longer pulled upward. But I dared not try to move, for fear that I would fall flat on my gagged face.
"There we go," Emily cooed. "Isn't that nice? The collar stays on for now though, I'm afraid. All right, I'm going to put you on the floor now, are you ready?"
Again I nodded, and, holding me firmly by my bound upper arms, Emily proceeded to lower me to the floor on my stomach. It was a minor miracle. Amid all the other agonies, I had almost stopped noticing the pain in my feet from standing in place for nearly 24 hours. But now the weight of my body was finally taken off them, and it felt so good. Of course, the relief only lasted a few seconds, before my mind was pulled back to the many other aches and pains caused by my brutal bondage.
Emily stalked around me quietly, regarding me closely. Once she stooped to adjust the bonds just above my knee, undoing the knot and pulling it tighter before cinching it once again. I couldn't imagine why this was necessary. She tugged at the rope on my elbows too, but thankfully, she was apparently satisfied with it, and did nothing more.
"I don't know, something's off. You look a little...asymmetrical." She put her hand to her chin and continued to watch me for a moment. "I know what you need."
Straining to look up from my prone position, I watched with dread as she rummaged in the duffle bag and came out with six more rolls of black electrical tape.
"We need to do your feet too, to balance out this look. Have you heard of foot binding before? They used to do it to girls somewhere in Asia-China, I think. I gather it's excruciatingly painful, and often they would actually break the bones in the girls' feet. But don't worry, I'm not going to do anything like that. This will probably just be a little uncomfortable for you. For me, it's just about the fun of wrapping more tape around one of your appendages. Plus, I love the cute, useless little look of your taped up hands, and I want to give you some matching little booties."
With that, she knelt next to my feet, and presently I felt her slapping a strip of the sticky tape on top of the arch of my left foot. She wrapped around and around until the entire arch was covered, then ripped the tape off. I prayed she was finished but she wasn't.
"Curl your toes in for me, toward the bottom of your foot" she commanded.
I had learned my lesson, and I complied without any fight. She held my toes in their curled position with one hand, and with the other, she began wrapping them tightly with the electrical tape. Then she proceeded back down the arch, around the heel, and finished by wrapping a bit of the way up my ankle, to where the rope sat. Just as she had done with my hands, she repeated the procedure two more times, the tape constricting my foot and toes even tighter with each pass. My right foot was then encased in tape in the same manner.
"Wow," said Emily. "That looks amazing. You look so fucking hot like that. I can't believe this is really happening, I've been dreaming of this for so long. We got you, we really got you! A grown man, totally bound and helpless, and you're all ours. I never thought this would really happen, but look at you! You're totally helpless. I can do whatever I want to you, and you're totally powerless to stop me."
As she said this, Emily sank to the floor in a sitting position, with her back to the wall. And she slipped off her pants and started rubbing her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she began to masturbate furiously, then reopened as she stared at me with a hungry look. Just one day ago this would have turned me on. But as things stood, it only felt like one more humiliation, one more way to show her total domination of me, as she masturbated freely while I lay completely immobile on the floor in intense discomfort. It strained my neck to watch her, and eventually I let my head fall, forced to stare at the puddle of drool I was now creating on the floor before my face. Eventually she finished with loud and indulgent grunts of pleasure.
"God, that was so good," she sighed. "I'm going to have so much fun with you. This is only the beginning, you know. I have so many plans for you, my little slave. But we need to be patient. For now, I think it's finally time for you to get some food and water."
I was relieved to hear this, although I couldn't understand why she had gone to all the trouble of binding me so thoroughly if she was now going to feed me. I would need my hands to eat.
"Be right back," she said, and abruptly she was gone.
It wasn't long before Emily returned, along with Julie and Melanie. From where I lay, I could only see the door swinging open, and then three sets of high-heeled shoes tramping in and coming to rest in front of me.
"Very nice work," I heard Julie say. "That looks pretty painful. And fuck, it gets me wet. I like what you've done with the tape around his hands and feet too. Must be a bitch to not even be able to wiggle your fingers and toes."
"Thanks," said Emily, "I was pretty proud of that, actually. I think I'm learning that I really like tape bondage. I had a lot of fun winding it around and around his hands and feet and watching them get compressed. And I really like the look of it, without any gaps in the tape. It leaves him with these shiny little useless flippers."
Melanie laughed loudly. "Aw, yeah, he looks so cute like that. Poor little slave."
"Is that cotton rope you used?" asked Julie.
"Yeah," Emily answered. She shrugged. "It does the trick."
"Yep," said Julie. "But later, when it's my turn to bind him, I'm going to introduce him to some rougher ropes. I bought a ridiculous amount of rope the other day, made of sisal and jute: thick, braided stuff. That shit will really cut into his skin, and chafe like fuck if he tries to move around. It won't be all soft and cute like this cotton rope. But there will be plenty of time for all that."
While I pondered this threat in horror, Emily knelt in front of me and placed two bowls before my face. The sort that dogs eat out of. One contained water, and the other held a revolting brown mush.
"Time for your feeding, slave boy," Emily announced. "We have here some nice fresh water, and in your food bowl, we took all the leftovers from some Chinese food we had for lunch, put it in a food processor, and blended it up. Aren't we nice? See, this way, you can eat with your face and we don't even have to untie your hands!"
My heart sank as I realized they weren't going to untie me. My shoulders were nearly numb with pain; the rest of my body hurt too, but the shoulder pain seemed to be overriding all of my other sensations at this point. The way my elbows were bound was simply brutal. I thought my shoulders would dislocate soon if they weren't released.
"Now I'm going to need to take your gag out so that you can eat," Emily continued. "This is your only warning: do not forget the rules. Just because you're being ungagged doesn't mean you can speak. And if we do allow you to speak, you must use the proper form of address. You've already earned yourself one punishment so far. Trust me, you will regret that sorely, and you do not want to earn a second one. Now, go ahead and hum, 'I'm a Little Teapot' if you understand what I've just said."
What the fuck? Did she just tell me to hum, "I'm a Little Teapot?" Did I hear right?
My hesitation was not well received. Suddenly someone's hand grabbed a chunk of my hair and pulled my head savagely backward. With my head cocked back, Julie's face loomed into view, looking furious, and she came so close to my gagged face that she was spitting into my eyes as she shrieked at me: "Listen here, slave! Mistress Emily just gave you a fucking order. You had better learn your proper place, quick! And start learning to obey orders, fucking promptly!"
As best I could with the ball gag distending my aching mouth, I started humming the tune to "I'm a Little Teapot," like some idiot child in a kindergarten class (with a speech impediment to boot). I hesitated after the first couple lines, assuming I had done enough, but Julie yanked viciously on my hair once again.
"Did someone tell you to stop, slave?"
I finished humming the absurd nursery rhyme as Melanie and Emily howled with laughter above me. God, it was so humiliating.
"Ok," Emily said, "I think he understands the rules."
She bent down and went to work on the gag straps. First the chin strap fell away, and I worked my sore jaw a bit in that direction, relishing this new freedom. Then the straps behind my head were unbuckled and the gag was pulled away from my face. The ball slid out of my mouth trailing a thick stream of saliva that clung to my lower lip and then spilled to the floor, enlarging the puddle that was already pooling there. For a few seconds I could barely move my jaw. Eventually the feeling returned, and I chomped up and down, getting used to having control over my mouth once more.
"Now eat," said Julie. "Before we change our mind and leave you here to starve to death."
My first order of business was to drink. My throat was parched and I was still hungover. Given the restraints, though, I was forced to lap from the water bowl with my tongue. Like a dog. Having finally been given some water, I found it frustrating to no end that I could only lap up one tongue-ful at a time. I went at it with desperate haste, lapping until my tongue was sore. The girls just watched as I lapped. When I had finally had enough water, at least for the moment, I turned to the goopy, malodorous food. At first I tried lapping it as I had with the water, but that was useless. I hesitated for only a couple seconds before plunging my face in. Once again, like a dog, I scarfed. I managed to keep the upper half of my face out of the food, but the rest of my face was fair game. When I finally came up for air, the sodden brown mess was smeared all over my face from the nose down.
"Finish your food, slave," Emily said. "You won't be getting any more until tomorrow."
I knew that, in all likelihood, if I didn't obey immediately Julie would gladly pounce on me again. Also, I was still entertaining thoughts of escape, if they ever gave me half a chance, and I knew I would need all my strength for the attempt. So I stuck my head back in the bowl and finished the food. I wouldn't say it tasted good, but it was a relief to finally fill my stomach.
"See, aren't we nice?" Emily said, removing the bowls. "Now say thank you."
"Thank you . . . Mistress Emily," I said, belatedly remembering the degrading rules Emily had set forth.
"Very good," said Emily. "Nice to see you're learning." She produced a wet rag and used it to gently wipe my face. Her caress almost felt tender, a welcome relief. "Well, now that you've been fed, it's time for the gag to go back in, so open your mouth nice and wide and keep it like that."
I almost started crying again upon hearing this. The gag had only just been removed, and now they were going to put it right back in? I simply couldn't let that awful ball be forced back into my mouth. I needed a longer break than this. My jaw still ached, but more than that, it was the humiliation and the frustration of having my mouth stuffed, being unable to speak. I couldn't take it.
"No, please," I started begging. "You don't need to gag me anymore. Look, I'm doing everything you asked. I won't yell or anything, I'm not gonna make any noise. Please, please, just don't gag me anymore, I can't take that thing again. I swear, I won't make a sound, I really won't."
"Oh, dear," Melanie said quietly.
"How very disappointing," Emily said. "And you really seemed like you were learning. Here we went and gave you this very nice meal, and we were nice enough to ungag you for a little bit, and this is how you repay us? By speaking without permission the very first chance you got? Well, for starters, you've just earned yourself a second punishment. That was not smart.
"But let's get some things straight here, too.
"First of all, you are a slave. You are property. You have no more say in your fate than...that bed right there. If I want to sleep in the bed, I sleep in it, and I don't ask the bed's permission. Same goes for you. If I want to put something in your mouth, I'm going to put something in your mouth. Your mouth belongs to me, and I will use it like my property. No amount of whining and begging is going to change that.
"Secondly, you are not being gagged because we're worried you'll yell. Nobody would hear you anyway. We made very sure when we bought this property, there isn't another living soul within a mile of this house. And you're in the basement. Who cares if you yell? No, we're gagging you because we want to. It's a form of subjugation. We're gagging you because it's humiliating and degrading for you-and that turns us on.
"That's all for explanations. Now do as you were told, and open your mouth wide and keep it that way."
"No," I screamed heedlessly, "fuck! You can't do this to me. You can't keep me here like this, you fucking bitches! You can't fucking do this to me! Fuck you, fuck you!"
I punctuated this tirade by thrashing as much as my bonds allowed, which basically amounted to squirming around on my stomach without moving very far from the spot I had been in. Needless to say my arms remained firmly bound behind me and my legs were kept in the same rigid line.
"Ooh, the mouth on this one," Melanie said.
Julie looked at Emily with a malicious grin. "Sounds to me like he's just earned himself a third punishment, what do you think?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Emily. "It's his first day in bondage, he probably can't help it. I'd say we should give him a break on this one, especially since he just racked up his second punishment a minute ago. Besides, I'm not sure he'd survive three punishments."
"Well we can't just let him get away with that," Julie said, crossing her arms and staring down at me.
"Ooh, wait," Melanie chimed in, "I've got an idea. Give me one sec, be right back."
She dashed out of the room, and returned seconds later carrying what looked like (from my admittedly limited vantage point) a bar of white soap. I immediately knew what was up, but I thought better about protesting. I was learning that things could always get worse.
"That mouth is absolutely foul," she said. "I can't believe the filth I heard coming out of it. I think we're going to need to wash it out with some good strong soap."
Emily cracked up; Julie grinned malevolently. Melanie bent low and held the bar of soap up to my face.
"Open up, slave. I need to clean up that dirty mouth of yours."
Before I could even hesitate, Emily took the Taser from her pocket and zapped it in the air twice. I got the message and, closing my eyes, opened my mouth. Melanie immediately jammed the bar of soap between my open lips. It connected with my front teeth, and she ran the soap back and forth across them, leaving soap scum residue all over my teeth. She was thorough, running it along the bottom teeth as well, side to side, now pushing past my cheeks to get into the corners, rubbing the soap along my top and bottom molars. She was none too gentle either. This invasion of my mouth was brutal. Up to that point, I had believed Melanie was the least worrisome of this terrible trio. She had largely stayed quiet so far. But now I saw that her mind was just as twisted, only she had her own sort of ideas.
I tried to pull my head away, but was limited by the collar and my prone position. I tried putting my head down too, but Melanie grabbed me by the hair and held me up with one hand while with the other she continued to scrub my teeth with the soap. My tongue, I quickly learned, was powerless to impede her vigorous scrubbing. Once every last tooth was coated in a thick film of soap scum, she jammed the soap deeper into my mouth, along my tongue and against the roof of my mouth, and then ramming it home three times into my throat, causing me to gag and retch as she finally withdrew the soap. All three girls laughed wildly as I struggled to spit the flaky bits of soap from my mouth.
"That should help," Melanie managed between laughs, "but I really think he needs a more thorough cleaning." She kicked off a shoe and proceeded to pull down the stocking from the same foot. I struggled to look upward, and was able to see as she dropped the bar of soap into the empty stocking.
"Now open up again, we need to finish your cleaning," she said, bending to face me again.
By now I was resigned to my fate, and I did as she asked. Melanie balled up the stocking containing the soap and pushed it into my mouth. She took her time, wadding up the loose ends of the stocking and packing them firmly into the open space between my teeth and my cheeks. When she was done, the stocking filled my whole mouth, and she gave it one last firm shove. I could taste the foul soap through the mesh of the stockings.
"Now keep your mouth shut on that, and don't move."
She rummaged through Emily's duffle bag and came up with a roll of grey duct tape. I knew what was coming next and I groaned around the soap-stuffed stocking. But whereas I was expecting her to slap a single strip of tape over my lips, like they do in the movies, I was in for a surprise.
Melanie fingered the tab at the end of the tape and began to peel it off, accompanied by a loud ripping sound as the adhesive tore away from the roll. She spooled out a strip about two feet long, and without tearing it from the roll, she pressed the strip against my face, starting from one ear and wrapping all the way to the other side. I felt the tape's sticky adhesive cling to my skin and the facial hair that had grown there in the past day. With the same loud ripping sound at my other ear, Melanie continued to unspool the tape. She wrapped it all the way around behind my head, where it clung to my head hair, and came back around to the front. Then she kept going, wrapping twice, three times, four, until I lost count. As she progressed, she grew quicker at her task, eventually using only one hand, which she spun around my head, dragging the tape along with it. She probably wrapped the duct tape twenty times around the lower half of my face, and with each pass, she closed up any gaps, so that from my chin to the bottom of my nose, all that could be seen was a mass of sheer, grey tape.
Snapping the tape from the end of the roll, Melanie finished by smoothing the tape all around my head, taking extra care with my face and pressing the tape tightly under the bottom of my chin and especially over my mouth. I couldn't even move my lips behind the tape. Moreover, the constriction from the tape pressed the stocking and the soap deeper into my mouth, so that I was once again almost gagging. The tape wrap created pressure across the entire lower half of my face. At least there were no longer any leather straps biting into my skin or hugging my entire head-but this gag was nonetheless pretty horrid on its own. And then there was the soap. Unlike the ball gag, I was unable to drool. So I was forced to swallow. And the temperature of the inside of my mouth was quickly melting the soap to liquid. I felt the soap scum dripping down my throat, and as my saliva built up, I was often forced to swallow the foul stuff.
"Brilliant," Emily said. "I like how your mind works, Mel."
"See what happens when you act like an idiot?" Julie shouted at me. "You were just going to be ball gagged, that was all. Now you can spend the night sucking on soap, and you have no one but yourself to blame."
"Should we loosen his bonds for the night now?" Melanie asked.
"Well, I was going to," said Emily. "But I really don't like the idea of giving him any kind of reward after he just cursed at us. I think we should leave him here like this for a bit, and then come set him up for the night after he's had some more time to think about it."
Melanie shrugged. "Works for me."
On her way out the door, Julie turned to me with an evil grin. I was left to stew in fear of what she had planned for me.
The next hour or two passed slowly, and my mind was forced to turn to the various pains and discomforts racking my body. I kept thinking back in time twenty-four hours. Just twenty-four hours ago, I had been a free man. I was getting ready to go out with my friends for our usual Friday night. On any normal Saturday, I'd probably be sitting around in my boxers right now, on my comfy couch, watching some stupid TV show and enjoying the hell out of my life. It was hard to believe that my life had come to this, in only twenty-four hours.
I thought back on each of the mistakes that had led me here.
I should never have left the bar with these three strangers. It had seemed so innocent, and I had never believed that these girls could do me any harm. Nor had I believed that anyone, anywhere, would ever devise such an evil plot as this.
More particularly, I should never have left without telling my friends where I was going. They were surely texting me by now, wondering where I was. And if only I had told them where I was going, they would have some lead as to where I was. If only I had kept my phone by my side, instead of letting Melanie destroy it, the police could trace my GPS.
But how could I have known their plan? How could I have known these girls were so fucked up?
Most of all, I should never have let Emily put that fucking collar around my neck. Once she had locked it, I was finished. But before the collar, I was still perfectly safe. I was sure I could overpower all three girls, and escape no matter what they tried. If only it hadn't been for that collar. What an idiot I was to stand there, blindfolded, and let Emily chain me to a ceiling.
If only I could go back! I'd do things differently...
My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. The girls reentered.
"Time to get you set up for the night," Emily announced. "Tomorrow is a big day for you, so we're going to go easy on you tonight. You need to get some rest and to get some circulation back in your limbs. You'll still be bound, only less stringently. Don't get any ideas about escape in your head though-that won't be possible.
"Now, stay very still and don't fight me while I set you up for the night. Remember that, if you resist, I can always just leave you the way you are for the rest of the night. And maybe even make things worse for you."
She knelt at my feet and began untying the ropes around my ankles. It felt amazing when the pressure from the ropes receded. But I could still barely move my feet due to the ropes binding the rest of my legs. And my feet were still encased in the electrical tape with my toes uncomfortably curled inward. Just as I was enjoying the feeling of having nothing wrapped around my ankles, however, I felt Emily now securing something around my left ankle. In texture, it reminded me of the leather collar that still adorned my neck. It must have been some kind of leather cuff. She secured one around my right ankle as well, followed by the sound of two padlocks snapping shut. One by one, Emily then released the ropes binding the rest of my legs. Once the blood flow returned to my legs, I began wiggling them, only to learn that my ankles were bound together by a chain, about six inches long. I would obviously have preferred nothing to be binding my ankles, but as it was, these leather cuffs were considerably more comfortably than either the rope or the metal handcuffs from earlier.
Emily moved on to my arms. Once again she untied my wrists first. The ropes fell away, but my arms remained in the same position due to the elbow tie. As with my ankles, leather cuffs soon encircled each wrist, and were locked together with a padlock. Finally, my elbows were at last released. My wrists were bound more tightly than my ankles: no six-inch chain here, just a single padlock holding the two cuffs together. But I nonetheless had so much more movement available to my arms, with my elbows untied. I moaned in relief around the stocking-soap gag.
Much to my dismay, however, Emily left my hands and feet tightly wrapped in their electrical tape casings. I wanted so badly to wiggle my fingers and toes.
I watched with apprehension as Emily took another long chain from her duffle bag. But it wasn't so bad. As it turned out, she wrapped the chain around my ankle chain, then locked that to the foot of the metal bed frame, leaving about five inches of slack.
Last but not least, Emily began unwrapping the tape from my face. The first few layers came undone without any trouble, but as the bottom layers came away, the adhesive began to pull painfully on the hair at the back of my head and every bit of skin and facial hair on the lower half of my face. Emily continued apace and eventually was done. I didn't even have the strength to spit out the soap-filled stocking; Emily had to reach into my mouth and extract it, now sodden with my saliva. She slid the bar of soap out of the stocking, and laughed upon seeing that it had shrunk to a quarter of its original size.
"Guess you swallowed most of that soap, huh? Well, hopefully that will teach you not to use such dirty language."
Melanie laughed loudly, apparently proud of her wicked idea. I just groaned miserably in response.
"Get your jaw working while you can," Emily advised. "I'm re-gagging you in just a minute."
I began to sob quietly. I couldn't help it. They gave me no respite. As soon as one torture subsided, a new one took its place. I barely even dreamed of being free at this point. All I wanted was to not have my mouth stuffed with some cruel gag. I wanted to beg them not to gag me again, but I had learned from experience that begging would only lead to further torments. So I let the tears stream down my face and stayed silent.
After giving me a minute or two, Emily asked Melanie: "Do you want to do the gagging honors?"
"Ooh, that would be lovely," Melanie chirped.
Emily handed her the harness ball gag and Melanie presented it before my face.
"Open wide, slave. Here comes your gag."
I opened and she fastened the gag just as Emily had done earlier. Perhaps she was a bit less harsh in her tightening of the straps, but nonetheless, when she was finished my face was covered in a web of leather straps, and the ball was forced deep back in my mouth. I could not expel it or work it loose. The disgusting soap taste still lingered in my mouth, and now it combined with the rubber taste from the ball.
"That should do it for now," Emily said. "We're going to leave you to rest for the night, slave. Sweet dreams of what we have planned for you tomorrow!"
On their way out, Emily flipped the light off, and I was plunged into darkness for the first time since my capture. My wrists were firmly locked behind my back with the leather cuffs, and my legs were similarly cuffed, allowing six inches or so of movement. My hands and feet were still tightly wrapped in the electrical tape too, so I couldn't even attempt to undo the cuffs. In addition, the leather collar was still around my neck, and the harness ball gag decorated my face. Moments after the light was turned off I began to drool. This would continue in a steady, humiliating stream, for the entire night.
Being left alone with a greater range of movement than I had ever had so far, I first made some attempts at escape. I knew there was no way I could break the chain connecting me to the bed. But if I could somehow remove the cuffs, I would be free. I would need my fingers to do that.
With my hands stuck behind my back, I brought my taped fists to the bed frame and tried to rub the tape off that way. But the frame had only rounded edges-there was nothing sharp for me to rub against. And even if I could, the tape was wrapped so thoroughly that it would take hours to rip it off that way, if it was even possible at all. I gave it my best shot, but abandoned the effort as futile within fifteen minutes.
Then I sat for about ten minutes, trying to think of other escape ideas. Soon, however, my body began to give in to exhaustion. I found that I could lie on my side without causing too much discomfort in my bound arms. My head rested on the hard floor, but it was not too bad, all things considered. I began to drift off.
Just as I was beginning to sleep, the light flipped on and I looked around wildly. Julie was standing at the door alone. She was holding a thick, wide strip of leather with a number of buckles hanging from it. Instinctively I tried to pull myself to my feet, as if to run away, but I was pulled up short by the ankle chain.
"I know Emily feels you need to rest up before tomorrow," Julie said, "but personally, I felt like she was going way too easy on you. So I have one more thing for you. Think of it as a little reminder, during the night, of your rightful owner. Me."
Pushing me roughly to the floor on my stomach, Julie straddled me from behind. She loosened the collar around my neck and pulled it off. But before I could enjoy the feeling of my neck being bared, she wrapped the new piece of leather around the front of my neck and connected it in the back.
"This is called a posture collar," she explained. "It's to help you with your posture, obviously. It will hold your head up straight like a proud slave. Isn't that nice?"
She tugged the straps tight, tighter than the old collar had been, so that there was a constant pressure on my windpipe after she released the buckles. It didn't take me long to understand that this collar was quite a bit higher than the other one. It stretched from my collar bone to my chin, with my neck fully extended. In fact, my chin was forced up unnaturally. I couldn't even turn my head from side to side any longer, let alone move it up or down.
"There," Julie said as she finished buckling and tightening, "that's much better."
And she left, shutting the lights again. I tried to get back into the position I had been in, but it was no longer possible. I found that, now, if I tried to lie on my side, I couldn't tilt my head far enough to reach the floor. It was held up by the rigid posture collar, making it hard for me to breathe and straining my neck muscles.
The only way I could rest my head on the floor was to lie on my back. But in reality, that meant lying uncomfortably on my bound arms. Any position I tried caused severe discomfort after just a minute or two.
I cursed and screamed into my gag. The most minor relief afforded me-the relief of sleep-had now been taken away.
The rest of the night passed slowly. I could not sleep. My neck was in pain from being held in this rigid, elongated position, and my shoulders ached whenever I tried to lie on top of my bound arms. Worst of all, an hour or two into the night my hands and feet began to cramp up. It was excruciating. But I could do nothing: no matter how furiously I tried to extend my fingers or toes to alleviate the cramps, the tape held them fast.
I lay on the floor, not sleeping, and I wept softly. This was how I spent my second night as a slave to these three insane girls.
"Rise and shine, slave boy!"
I awoke from a shallow and fever-dream-filled sleep. I hated the way they always addressed me as "slave," and worse yet, I hated the way I was coming to expect it. Pretty soon I would be responding to it. As if it were my name.
"Wait, who put this posture collar on him?" Emily asked.
"Oh, whoops," said Julie, "I did."
Melanie laughed. "So much for him getting a good night's rest."
"Oh come on." Julie rolled her eyes. "That thing is not a big deal at all. Believe me, there were like ten other things I thought to do to him, all of them crueler. I settled for the posture collar because I know Emily keeps saying she doesn't want to overwhelm him. Give me a break."
Melanie kept giggling. It was obvious she didn't really care very much about Julie's added bondage, and even found it amusing.
I watched helplessly from the floor as the three girls circled me, terrified at what they might do now. Just two days in, and already I felt shell-shocked. My mind was consumed by the ache in my jaw from the gag and the strain in my neck, not to mention the persistent cramps that continued to assail my hands and feet from the tape bindings.
Melanie released the chain from my ankles to the bed.
"On your stomach, slave," Julie barked.
I rolled over onto my stomach and Julie jumped on my back, straddling me. I wasn't even fully awake yet as she started affixing leather cuffs to my arms just above the elbows. I started panting in panic behind my gag in anticipation of her next move. Sure enough, I felt cold metal brushing against my back. Julie was looping a chain through the two elbow cuffs. Crouching over me, she placed one foot in the small of my back and pulled savagely, drawing my elbows close together behind my back. The familiar strain in my shoulders started up again. Julie locked the chain in place when my elbows were about six inches apart.
"We'll get those elbows to touch eventually," Julie whispered in my ear. Standing up, she continued, "We're just going to need to train him to be more flexible, through bondage. He'll get the hang of it. And right now, he has too much muscle in his arms. Muscle inhibits flexibility. Fortunately for us, his muscles will atrophy after a few weeks in unrelenting bondage."
Weeks?! She had to be bluffing! There was no way even these sickos could be planning on keeping me tied up, in these insanely painful positions, for weeks!
Julie grabbed a ring at the back of my posture collar and started tugging.
"On your feet, slave. We're going for a walk."
With Julie's "help" I was able to stand up. Julie produced a leather leash, which she attached to the ring in the front of my posture collar, and the girls began marching me out the door. I was just barely able to keep up with them, hampered as I was by the six-inch chain hobbling my ankles. Julie held the leash and tugged whenever I moved too slowly. I kept nearly tripping.
Part of me was excited to finally be leaving this horrible room, where it had all started. The other part was terrified of where they might be leading me.
They led me down the hallway toward the stairs. Drool dribbled down my chin as I shuffled along. When we came to the bottom of the basement stairs, Melanie reached down to my ankles and let out some slack on my hobble chain. She extended it to maybe a foot: just long enough to allow me to move up the stairs one at a time. With Julie in the front and Melanie and Emily behind, they marched me up the stairs, down another hallway, through a kitchen, and into a large living room with a door at the back. When we came to the door and Emily opened it, I understood that we were going outside.
Sure enough, the girls dragged me into their backyard, which turned out to be an enormous, un-mowed field of hilly grass bounded by forests on all sides. There wasn't another manmade structure in sight. Nonetheless, now that we were outside, all I could think of was trying to escape. I knew it was silly, since I could only move my feet a foot at a time; my arms were bound severely behind my back; the posture collar limited my range of sight; and the tape bindings on my feet made walking very difficult. My toes were curled almost beneath my feet. I was surprised how difficult it was to walk without the use of my toes.
We walked through stiff, rough grass, the girls saying nothing. They moved silently like executioners. If I could just distract them somehow, maybe I could run far enough away to hide. It was a long shot, but I was determined to try. I didn't know if I'd ever get this chance again.
We had gone nearly a quarter mile from the house already. My legs were tired from all the shuffling, not to mention all the other pains I was experiencing from my bondage. The girls seemed bored from moving at my slow pace. I decided this was my chance.
I jerked suddenly in the opposite direction from where they were leading me. Julie, caught off guard, lost control of the leash. I started running as fast as my hobble chain would let me, adrenaline pumping.
"Little fucker!" Julie spat.
I kept moving, blood pounding in my head.
"Let him go," I heard Emily say casually. "Let him see how useless it is."
I knew she was right as I kept shuffle-running. I was barely making any progress. The girls could easily catch up to me. And there was nowhere in sight to go. It would take me probably ten minutes to make it to the nearest line of trees in the distance, and even if I got there, where would I hide?
Ten seconds later, I tripped. It was almost impossible to keep my balance with my wrists and elbows bound behind my back and my head held straight up by the posture collar-and worst of all, the tape binding my feet in an impossible position. I fell on my face. The rough grass chafed my naked body as I rolled around. And I couldn't even get back to my feet. Five seconds later, all three girls were standing over me. Melanie was laughing hysterically at my lame efforts to stand up.
"Well, I hope you're proud of your little escape attempt," Emily said, almost sounding sad. "I tried to save you from earning a third punishment yesterday, but this time, we have no choice. You have now earned three punishments. And you will very soon find out what that means."
I squirmed miserably in the grass.
"Julie, would you like to do the honors?"
Julie grabbed the leash that was swinging around with my struggles and pulled me savagely to my feet, choking me with her tugs.
After another five minutes we came to a spot in the field where a mess of broken branches and leaves lay in a heap. Julie kept a firm hold on my leash while Emily and Melanie cleared the branches. I had no idea what they were up to. Until I caught the glint of metal, gleaming in the sun, beneath where the branches had been. The girls threw the last few branches aside and now I saw a set of heavy metal doors set into the ground. It appeared to be the entrance to an old bomb shelter. The girls slowly peeled back the doors, which creaked ominously. A set of stairs leading down into darkness was revealed.
Julie still held the leash tightly and stared intently at me, daring me to make a move. As the other girls stood up and came back toward me, Julie undid my posture collar.
"I want you to look up, at the sun," she said.
I hesitated, but complied. I didn't see any danger in looking up. My mind was too addled to understand what was going on right now.
"See it?" Julie asked. "The sun? The beautiful blue sky and the clouds? Nice, right? Go ahead, take it in for a minute."
I stared at the sky, praying to the gods for some show of mercy.
"Good," Julie said, and her tone suddenly turned menacing. "I hope you got a nice look. Because I swear to you, right here and right now, that this is the last time you will ever see the sun."
As I took in what she had just said, she took hold of my cock and started pulling me forward. Meanwhile Emily and Melanie had each taken one of my arms and were guiding me in the same direction. Even if I had wanted to resist, I was thoroughly overpowered here. My mind reeled in horror at what Julie had just said, and I started crying again.
"Stay calm," Emily coaxed, "just be a good boy. Do not do anything stupid. You do not want to earn another punishment."
Prodding me in this way, the girls led me down the stairs into the darkened chamber of the bomb shelter. After my pathetic escape attempt of a moment ago, and the punishment doled out as a result, I wasn't about to resist. I just tried to make it down the stairs on my hobbled, taped-up feet without tumbling to my death.
At the bottom of the stairs Emily pulled a chain hanging from a bare light bulb in the ceiling, revealing a modest room of the type you might expect to see in an antiquated bomb shelter. Stone walls, hard wooden benches, a few cabinets, etc. But this wasn't my final destination.
Set into the back wall was a thick metal door held fast to the wall by multiple imposing locks. Emily set about undoing the locks and then pulled the door open-it was a sliding door-leaning hard with her little body to budge its considerable weight. It rolled slowly aside. Beyond the door was a large rectangular room in total darkness.
The girls led me in and turned on the lights (this time they were normal, electric lights, in the ceiling). The room was largely bare except for a metal cage in one corner, which appeared to be designed for a moderate-to-small-sized dog. There were also rings welded into the ground, the walls, and the ceiling, in various places. Some kind of hand crank protruded from the wall to my right. Finally, a toilet with no seat sat in one corner of the room.
I made some feeble noises of protest from behind the ball gag, but the only result was that I expelled a few fresh gobbets of drool that ran down my chin and my chest. Implacably, the girls led me into the room-the room that Julie had just sworn to me I would never leave. I was crying uncontrollably.
They dragged me to the toilet and Emily ordered me to sit. I did, albeit with difficulty due to my bonds.
"We'll be back in five minutes. You'd better use the bathroom now, because you won't have another chance for a while. When we return, your punishment will begin. You've earned yourself three."
They left. In truth I had to use the bathroom desperately. I had pissed myself multiple times in the basement room where they had first bound me, but I had been unable to take care of my other needs. It wasn't at the top of my list of priorities during that time either. But now that I was on a toilet, I found the urge uncontrollable. With my limited movement, I somehow managed to do what I needed to do.
The girls returned just as I finished. I felt my last shred of dignity slipping away as I rose from the toilet, naked before three fully clothed and smirking girls, completely powerless and tied up in what could only be described as a dungeon.
Melanie advanced smiling, with something white in her hands. I was still trying to make out what it was when Melanie enlightened me.
"It's a diaper!" she gushed. "You won't have a chance to use the bathroom again for quite a while, so we need to make sure you don't make a mess in here."
"You left some piss stains on the carpet in the basement bedroom back in the house," Emily added. "But that's ok-we don't use that room for anything, anyway. This room, on the other hand, we intend to keep clean. We'll be using this room for a very long time."
The implications ran through my head. It was humiliating enough to be forced to wear a diaper-but worse yet, it sounded as if they expected me to actually use the diaper. I conjured up images and sensations of this prospect: the disgusting squish and squelsh and smell of wearing a used diaper. I wanted to vomit, and I shouted in defiance behind the rubber ball strapped into my mouth, but already Emily and Julie were on either side of me, holding me by each of my cuffed elbows while Melanie knelt down to apply the large plastic diaper. I was still afraid of the punishment to come, so I didn't put up much physical resistance (not that I could have in any meaningful way). Instead I simply howled from behind my gag like an upset child as Melanie positioned the front of the diaper above my genitals and then pulled the other half between my legs. She held the diaper firm against my body, and the stiff plastic pushed my cock and balls back toward my perineum uncomfortably. With the other half of the diaper now placed above my bed, Melanie set about connecting the diaper on each side with the adhesive strips built into it. I could smell the wretched plastic of the diaper and it reminded me of an infancy I could only remember at some subconscious level. I shivered in disgust and humiliation, my knees nearly buckling, but Julie and Emily held my firmly upright by my elbows. Meanwhile Melanie stepped back and admired her handiwork. The diaper remained in place, my cock and balls trapped inside and already chafing against the plastic.
"Good," said Emily. "Now let's prep him for his punishment."
I couldn't take much more humiliation, and I dreaded whatever punishment was to come. But it seemed the girls were moving inexorably forward with whatever psychotic plans they had for me. From behind, Julie prodded me in the direction of the cage I had seen when I first entered. I knew what was coming next-had probably understood it from the moment I saw the cage-but I still couldn't understand. There was just no way I was going to fit into that cage.
"Lie down on your stomach," Julie commanded when we reached the cage.
I dropped first to my knees and Julie helped me the rest of the way to the floor. She removed the chain attaching my elbow cuffs and I sighed as the pain in my shoulders was relieved. Next she unwrapped the tape from my hands and feet, and finally removed the hobble chain from my ankles.
"I'm going to remove your gag now," Julie said. "If you utter one word without permission, you will earn yourself a fourth punishment."
Despite not yet knowing what punishment lay in store for me, I knew it was best to obey. Julie undid the straps around my head and dislodged the ball from my mouth. Drool poured out onto the concrete floor and I stretched my sore jaw slowly.
I was now restrained only by my cuffed wrists. The cuffs at my elbows, ankles and wrists remained on, affixed with padlocks, but only my wrists were still connected. This was the freest I had been since I had handcuffed myself while chained to the ceiling back in the house. Yet I only briefly considered trying to escape. I knew the girls were wary and prepared for my attempts, and I could see that Emily was holding the Taser in anticipation of an escape attempt.
As I contemplated my options, I felt something leather brush against my fingers. In a moment each of my hands was engulfed in a bag of thick padded leather, and I heard the snap of two more padlocks.
"These are bondage mittens," Julie explained. Your fingers will be useless in them, but they won't be crushed in a ball the way they were from the tape. We're being merciful. Remember that."
I could feel that she was telling the truth. I could flex my fingers within the mittens, but the thick leather padding them all around prevented me from closing my fingers on anything outside the mittens. My hands were effectively useless. But it wasn't too uncomfortable.
"Now crawl into the cage, head first," Emily said, giving me a light kick in the side for good measure as Melanie swung the front door of the cage open.
I looked up at my captors hoping for some pity, only to see Emily experimentally zapping the Taser into the air. I was too exhausted to do anything but obey.
Awkwardly, with my hands still bound behind me, I wormed my way across the floor. My chest came into contact with the cold metal of the cage's floor first. I continued to squirm until my entire upper body was inside the cage. My head now abutted the back end of the cage. As I expected, there was no way I was going to fit into this cage. It was approximately three feet by three feet by three feet, and I was approximately 5'10". The bars of the cage were tightly spaced, leaving holes of one square inch that would allow no more than a finger to pass through. My entire lower body still protruded from the front of the cage.
"Let's go!" Julie shouted. "We don't have all day here. Bend your knees, get in there."
I groaned, pulling my knees inside the cage and underneath my upper body. Now my head was jammed uncomfortably against the back of the cage. Yet still a good portion of my legs couldn't make it inside. I continued to try to maneuver my legs beneath the rest of my body, but with the cage spanning only three feet in height, my arched back was already straining against the top. In truth, there was a small part of me that actually wanted to make it inside the cage. At least inside the cage, the girls could no longer torment me. But it was now clear that I wasn't going to fit. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. I assumed the girls would give up on the cage.
They did not. Julie started kicking me viciously in the butt.
"Ow! Ow!" I yelled.
"Shut the fuck up!" she replied, and sank to her knees. From there, she began pushing me from the rear, cramming me further into the cage. "Help me out," she instructed the others.
Melanie bent down and also began to shove me inside the cage. My face was smashed against the steel mesh of the back end of the cage now, the bars digging grooves into my face. What the fuck were they doing? Couldn't they see that I didn't fit? Yet they continued to push. Melanie grabbed one of my feet and forced it over the lip of the front of the steel cage. Julie did the same with my other foot. But there was no room for my whole body: when they stopped pushing on my butt, my butt spilled back over the edge; when they stopped forcing my feet in, my feet spilled back over the edge. Finally, after much pushing and straining, they wrangled my entire body into the cage just long enough for Emily to close the door and latch it shut. My body was contorted unnaturally, doubled up, face pressed against the steel bars, back straining against the top, legs folded painfully beneath me. Emily locked the latch with a large padlock and sealed my fate. Meanwhile Melanie opened a small latch at the top of the cage, reached in, and unlocked the padlock holding my wrist cuffs together.
I was now free of any restraint besides the mittens and the unconnected cuffs at my wrists, ankles and elbows, but I was crammed into this tiny cage. What was the plan here? It was obvious they couldn't keep me in this cage for very long. It was just too small. They hadn't planned this very well.
"Well, now that you're settled into your new cage," Emily began, standing over my tiny prison, "it's time to explain your punishment for your misbehavior earlier. You have earned three punishments. That will be three days. Seventy-two hours. That's how long you'll be staying in that cage, and we won't hesitate to extend your stay if you commit any further transgressions. You need to learn your place. You are a slave, and you will have to earn nicer accommodations than this. For now-for the next three days-you can just enjoy your new cage."
I started sobbing once again, but my sobs were met with silence. Without further discussion, all three girls marched out the door, leaving me to suffer my fate in wretched solitude.
They slid the metal doors closed and the last sounds I heard for a very long time were the locks being fastened on the outside of the door, the girls' footsteps receding up the stairs, and, faintly, the heavy bomb shelter doors being dropped shut above me.