Eight Days in a Binding Contract

I start to worry that I may be taking too long in the shower, the hot water feels sooooo good on my aching limbs. I let the water flow for a long time into my mouth both to wash it free of the lingering tastes and to sooth the painful jaw and cheek muscles. I get out and towel myself off, walking out without clothes as I have none there. As I exit the bathroom into the bedroom, Sir Micheal says to me "Hop up onto the massage table, you deserve and need a massage." As tender and tired as my body was the next hour proved to be the most pleasurable and relaxing time of the week. And there was no question he was a well-trained, experience masseuse who can loosen any muscle. He is also one who only does men, most if not all who come there for more than just treatment for tired and stressed back, arms and legs. His glorious fingers played mayhem with my rectal canal and my prostrate was thoroughly massaged. My front was not to be ignored as my chest was rubbed, my nipples sucked and then in the end my penis caressed and hardened, but after the sounding I had nothing left and I never reached a climax. That doesn't mean it wasn't wonderful.

My rewards were not yet complete. When it was done, I was expecting to be sent to bed in my usual state, naked, hands cuffed in front together and in chastity. Instead, I was directed to get up and help him in the garage. I obey and help him carry the twin mattress from the garage to the atrium where we laid it down in the center of the deck about where I had been previously bound spread eagle. "Stay here." He heads back into the house and returns with a heavy cotton comforter style blanket and full pillow placing them on the black sheet covered mattress. He then heads back to the garage and returns with a full set of 'irons'. These are two-inch-wide black steel cuffs. The ankle cuffs are connected to each other with a heavy black chain about 18 inches long. The wrist cuffs are arranged like the ankle cuffs. Both sets are interconnected with a third similar 24-inch-long heavy chain with a ring on each end that the cuff chains are threaded through. The cuffs are locked closed with an omega-shackle and screw-in pin that requires a special butterfly wing wrench driver designed to screw down the pin. After I'm locked in this wrench goes in Sir Michael's pocket. I am not getting free till he lets me. I have never been in irons before. Very medieval looking. They feel good, loose on the ankles and wrist but tight enough that they won't slip over my hands or feet. The chains have enough length that I can move around, I can walk, but it would be a shuffle.

I'm told to lay down and go to sleep. This is fantastic. A mattress and not a cold, hard tile floor. I am dead tired, but I don't immediately fall asleep. First off, I am outside. The colored accent lights around the perimeter of the deck set a charming mood. It's a nice relaxing tone. The night sounds are peaceful. The irons take some adjustments as I try to find the best way to sleep comfortably with them, if that is possible. On my side seems best and the irons prove to be no inhibitor to this. I have spent enough time today flat on my back. It's gotten cool outside with the sun down, so I cover myself with the blanket which provides sufficient warmth, get the pillow under my head and drift off thinking that this was by far the most challenging day but I got what I wanted.

Chapter 19: A Gym Workout, Then Just Sitting Around

Thursday. Sleeping on the mattress was fantastic compared to the shower stall. Even after the marathon day I had the day before I felt good, well rested. My stretching workout helped clear out some of the tight muscles I had from being wrapped so tight for so long. Thursday morning turned out to be a weigh-in day also. I walked by the scale every time I went into the bathroom and dreaded it each time a saw it. After the first weigh-in and the resulting thirty whacks I was fearful I'd be checked again. I certainly was eating lite this week, not by my own design, but I surely wasn't going to lose three pounds in less than a week. On the scale I look down and see 181.4 pounds. I had lost just a tad more than a pound, maybe more. "What am I to do with you," was his rhetorical sigh.

Thursday afternoon is when one of Sir Michael's weekly customers comes, and he reminded me that I would be in the dungeon again when the client was here. Oh joy, I remember the pillory wait for clients to depart. He also had a chore list, nothing complicated. It was finished in less than two hours. Then we made another return trip to Home Depot. I must be exhibiting my servitude well without needing reminders because I traveled again this time without being told to wear my chastity or butt plug. Or maybe he just forgot. At the Home Depot he picked up an eight-foot 2x6, which he had the store cut into a five-foot piece and two 18-inch pieces, for what at the time I did not know. He also got a four-foot-long round wood closet pole used for hanging clothes.

When we got back from the store we brought the stuff into the garage. I was then instructed to head into the bedroom strip down, neatly fold my clothes and put them in the closet and return. I did. On my return I see that Sir Michael has rolled his elliptical machine to in front of the screen. "OK you fat cunt, get on, you are going to try and lose some of that weight," he sarcastically said. I climbed on, slightly worried about working out on this machine naked as I would have no support for my jewels which likely would swing wildly about. Turns out that would be the least of my worries. I didn't initially even give it a thought, but Sir Micheal's devious plan was to secure me to the machine.

He did it with duct tape. He had me cup the top of the arms of the elliptical machine with the palm of my hands. With duct tape he then wrapped multiple circles over my hands and around the machine upper arms making the elliptical arms look like they were capped with silver baseballs. My feet sat flat on the footrests. A quick couple of wraps around the footrests and my feet were one with the pads. "Try it", I'm told and as a push forward and back with my bound hand it makes a few cycles. A little bit awkward as I was used to using these machines at the gym with freedom, but this way is completely doable. I then feel Sir Michael spreading my butt as he forces into my hole what I guess is the lubed bullet I know well. I am not excited about this reunion. He fastens a belt around my waist and attaches the electro control box to it and plugs in the wire coming from my butthole. He fiddles with the setting. Again, not happy.

"Ok this is the plan, while I eat my lunch here, you'll work out. Yeah, don't expect lunch, fatty. When I work out on it, I try to maintain 3.5 to 4 MPH for 30 minutes. That's one of the reasons why I weigh less than 180. So, you are to work this machine at 3.5 MPH for 30 minutes. As an incentive, any time you drop below 3.5 MPM this will happen." Sir Micheal pushes the button on remote to the gadget strapped to my side and I get a zap in my butt. He gives me about a three second shock. Painful for the time it is applied, and it jerks damn near my whole body. "That was a three. I can make it go from one to ten. I will start at one. If you slow to below 3.5 MPH, you'll know it. Slow a second time and you'll know it again, but this time you'll experience a two. Slow again, it's a three. When we played with you the other day the worst you got was a seven and you screamed like a baby. I know you don't want to slow down nine or ten times to find out what that feels like. Oh, and by the way, I will also add five minutes to your workout each time. Now I am going to grab my lunch and bring it back. You ponder what I just said and then will get started." I stand on the machine for about ten minutes till he returns. I had snuck in a quick pre-run to see what 3.5 MPH was. I got it up to speed, it wasn't super hard, but I wonder if I can sustain it for thirty minutes. The wait plays on my psyche as I think of electricity running through my body multiple times.

He returns, settles into his lawn chair, puts on his porn, takes a bite of his sandwich and says, "Let's get to it, push the start button to the timer and get moving." I didn't do that badly, I only got four zaps, two during the first thirty minutes and two more during my penalty minutes. The number four was even tolerable, I think that's where we hit green when I was wrapped. Probably pulling the duct tape off my arm hairs when I was finished my workout was just as painful.

After my workout it was nearly time for Sir Michael's customer to come. He had me roll the elliptical machine back to the corner where it is stored and then put the intimidating bondage chair where the machine had just been. I do as I am told but I still haven't gotten use to doing such manual labor while naked. Especially when someone is watching me, which Sir Michael was doing now.

The chair is big and heavy. It's made of thick wood, bigger than dimensional lumber. The seat height is a good three feet from the floor, you have to climb onto it. And its unconventional seat made of two planks about six inches wide and 2 inches thick that jut out from the back in a Vee shape. When one sits on it their legs will be supported when spread wide, but there will be no seat in between their legs all the way back to their balls making them accessible. A long narrow back extends from the floor to a height of about seven feet. There are chair arms also extend from the back of the chair but come out from a point in the back wider than the legs. They are in a parallel Vee to the legs but in a plane further outward. The arm boards allow for forearms and wrists to be supported while secured. On the inside outer point of the leg planks are one inch round black pipes that rise out of holders in the legs, about five inches high. When person is sat in the chair, the removable pipes are place back in, pressing up against their widely spread inter-knees which keeps him from being able to close his legs together. The chair is elegant in its simple design but also looks menacing. It has been stained a deep brown, almost black color. It is adorned with countless connection points so the victim can be well secured in almost any way an abuser can conceive.

I'm told I've got about thirty minutes before his client was to arrive, so I should hit the head, get a drink of water and come back. I did and when I returned, I was told to get up on the chair. I was relieved to see that the pegged seating with its one hundred or more sharp pointed dowels rising from it remained leaning up against the wall, I don't think I would last five minutes sitting on it. Sir Michael secures leather cuffs with the miniature locks to my ankles and wrists and locks them to rings on the chair's legs and arms. I leather belt is then wrapped around my chest just below my nipples and is pulled tight and secure behind the back of the chair. The leg spreaders are then placed back in the holders, and I am surprised of how wide my legs are now spread, almost uncomfortable. I'm also aware of how vulnerable my privates are. Other than the spread legs I have some movement, although I am certainly not able to escape. There is no chair padding, so the seating is hard, but all in all, this is doable. One of the easier bondage positions this week.

Sir Michael then puts back on the screen the 'girls in bondage giving blow jobs' video and he bids me farewell, saying, "See you in about two." And so I sat. It's nice. I get time to think about the events of the week without any stressors to contend with and the video is, as before, fantastic. I also ponder the many ways I could be secure to the chair, it could be quite severe and the many things that could be done to me while secured, frightful and thrilling. If only my hands could reach my privates, they want attention. This ends up being one of the easiest times I have had, I don't mind waiting for my jailer to return.

He does return and says let's get a pizza and I'm ecstatic. I try not to show it as I don't want him to withdraw the offer or worse yet eat it in front of me (I was just disciplined for being heavy) cause I'm starving. California pizza generally sucks in my opinion, but todays was great, hot with lots of peperoni and extra cheese. I didn't even mind drinking water with mine, he had a cold beer.

While we were eating, Sir Michael said he had a couple of small wood projects for me after dinner. He had me clean up the dinner mess, which didn't take much as we ate on paper plates. And I was sent to the garage. The first job was easy. He had me drill pilot holes in both ends of the closet pole we had bought and then screw an eye-hook into each of them. Next I drilled a third hole on the outside edge in the center of the pole and screw in an eye-hook there too. We are in the middle of BDSM week, so it is obvious what he just had me build. The question was just when and how will it be used.

Sir then brought me bowl with strips of paper in it. He told me to reach in a pick one. I did. "What is written on it?" he asked. I read it and say, "One-half-inch." "OK let's get started, just remember you picked the size." I have no idea what he meant. He supervised me while he provided instructions on what he wanted. "First get the 2x6 we bought, the long piece." I did. "I want you to cut a 15-degree angle down the length of the 2x6 on both sides of one edge leaving 1/2 inch of original wood on the top. In other words, I want you to create a bunt top 1/2-inch-wide point down the length of the board." Sir Michael owns a DeWalt compact jobsite table saw with a saw stand. This is kept folded up on one of his shelves with his other tools in the garage/dungeon. This job would be somewhat easier on a full-size table saw, but it will do. I get down the saw and set up the stand, raise up the saw blade and put it at a 15-degree angle then calculate out where the rip fence needs to be to give me a centered 1/2-inch strip after cutting away the sides. I ran the board through the saw twice creating the point. I guarantee I never have cut wood on a table saw naked. I'm a little dusty. The board met his specifications. He next had me drill pilot holes and then install an eye-hook in each of the butt ends of the plank, about one third of the way down from the top. I was told to sweep up the sawdust and put away the saw.

Then the fun began. He went over to the sling and unclipped it from the four chains and put it on a shelf. He then put cuffs on my wrists and ankles then put my new hood back on me lacing it up and buckling the neck strap closed. He left the blindfold and gag off, at least for now. Then that damn electro bullet was slid back into my butt, with Sir Micheal showing me the tube of lube he used to glide it in, a brand I know from my own play; this lube is extremely conductive.

I am then moved so I am standing between two of the four chains that are dangling from the ceiling from the sling we had taken down. He turns me so I am facing one of the chains. He then fetches the board he had me cut and brings it over to me along with the two 18-inch boards that were cut at the store. He pushes my legs a good distance apart and attaches my ankle cuffs to an expandable spreader bar. He lifts my right foot off the ground and places one of the short boards under it and then does the same to the other. He takes the five-foot board, point side up and places it between my legs, over top of the spreader bar, then raises one end and connects the eyehook with a screwlink to chain at about the level of my groin. He goes to the other end and lifts the board up, so it contacts my body just at the underside of my scrotum and attaches that end's eyehook to the other chain. He goes to the other side and adjusts its level on the chain, then back to the side to make adjustment moving up or down a link till he has the point resting against the under-side of my scrotum and level across the top. Satisfied, he then screwed the screwlinks closed. He then pulls up one foot then the other removing the planks from under my feet. That causes my body weight to crush my ball sack and ass crack down onto the blunt point I made just a short while ago. To relieve the ache, I lift up onto my toes, so I am just off the board. I know what lies in store for me as I have just been put on a rudimentary but effective 'BDSM riding horse'. But he is not done with me yet. He lifts my right arm up behind my back tilting me slightly forward and secures the cuff to the rear chain. That action slides me back just a bit over the board. The same attachment is then done to my left cuff. He tugs and twists my one nipple between his forefinger and thumb and pulls it forward as he squeezes down a screw-down style alligator clamp screwing it down tight. He tugs on it to make sure its bite on me will not come loose. He then does the same to my other nipple. He then ties a piece of string to the end of each clip and threads the other end of the string through the front chain pulling on both strings till my nipples are stretch unnaturally forward and they are tied off. He connects my bullet wire to the control box. "It won't be long till you are whimpering, and I'm not interested in listening to it, so open your mouth," and he seals my mouth off with the inflatable penis gag. And why not, he also snaps on the blindfold.

I make a quick assessment, I am up on my toes and my caves are tiring, but they are holding. My arms are uncomfortable pulled behind me, this arm position is tougher on a man's shoulders than it is for a female, it's just muscular anatomy. My nipples hurt due to the pinching, and the yanking isn't helping either. I last probably a good six or seven minutes till my legs give out and I try my best to slowly set down on the point to allow my caves to rest. Ow, ow, ow, ow. Not pleasant, not at all. I truly wish I didn't weigh 180 pounds as it is now crushing my ballsack onto then blunt point I made. That really does play with the mind. It's not excruciatingly painful, but it's no picnic either. I can sit only about three minutes before I must rise back on my toes. There I last this time maybe four minutes before I must put myself back down on the point. Two minutes or so I am back up. Its lot long before I am back down. And that's riding the horse. It's a devious torture device that works perfectly. I hear Sir Michael call out, "Giddy up, Bitch, giddy up."

I don't know how long I was riding when Sir Michael needed more entertainment. It started slow, but there was that electro buzzing in my butt. The first inclination was sheer panic, oh no, he's not going to start shocking me, I am already suffering. But that wasn't his plan or desire. What he was planning was not extreme pain, but it was just a devious and rough. He had put on a similar program as the very first one he used when I was mummified. The super pain-pleasure ecstasy, bliss, convulsing spasming, jerking program. It can be wonderfully sensually painful if just simply bound, unable to resist it, but able to just absorb and enjoy it. I'm doing all I can to stay off a sharp board who's only interest to bring pain to my balls and ass crack. Now shock me into uncontrolled ecstasy and the result is me rapidly and uncontrollably rising from and crashing back down on the point, time and time again, because my body is being zapped into convulsions it cannot control. Excruciating painful and wonderful at the same time. The ultimate pain-pleasure experience. He set up with a timer, the program electrifies my muscles for one minute then shuts off randomly from one minutes to three minutes before turning back on. He's the Devil. All these years and I never knew.

As I was made to dance on and over the horse, I eventually unintentionally ripped otf the nipple clamps, one at I time. I know Sir Michael was close by watching me as each time my nipples were violently released, he was there seconds later to pull and twist them as the blood flowed back into them, involuntarily forcing me try to pull and twist away from his hand, scrapping my tender aching butt and sack across the board that would then sway back and forth on the chains but being incapable of yielding height.