Sausages Backstory Ch. 13

Dan woke to the sound of an electronic alarm ringing somewhere in the ceiling above him. It was six am, Monday morning. This was his first morning at home as a fully contracted and signed up slave to his wife and, as of now, his owner, Mary. The previous three days of slave training were behind him, thankfully. The three days prior to that of his wellness/spa break were but a distant memory. Dan was happy to be back in his own home. Naively, he still thought of it as his own home. Probably not appropriate to regard anything as 'his' anymore, but Dan hadn't quite got to that point yet.

The point he was at was still 'if I'm a good boy, she'll give me a good time' sexy slave play mind-set. True, he was finding the 'good boy' aspect a bit more demanding, and a bit more full-time, than he expected. But he was confident that suitable sexy bondage sessions would follow shortly. He was prepared to hang in there and go with the flow. The significant material losses he had suffered in contractually surrendering all he possessed to his wife had not yet become apparent. Not to Dan, anyway.

An overhead light came on in time for Dan to observe the door from his room to the landing automatically and abruptly slide open. Just as Dan still thought, and it was a source of great comfort to him, that he was back in his own house, he similarly thought that the room he was sleeping was, by definition, his room. Sure it took a bit of adjustment to downsize from the room he had shared with his wife up until the previous weekend. In estate agent parlance that room would have been designated the master bedroom but, since Mary had made it clear the previous evening that it was her room now, the master label was defunct. Dan was in what used to be called the spare room. Still, he felt he had his own space, his own little place, even if it suffered from a distinct lack of creature comforts.

By any objective measure, that room was not Dan's room. A simple test would be if Dan could enter and leave 'his' room at will. Answer: No. Mary controlled the door to the room using an app on her phone. As well as directly controlling the door, she had pre-programmed the app to open it in the morning at six and shut it after Dan left for his work at eight - normally, or seven-thirty on Mondays. The door stayed shut until the evening. Then it was opened to allow Dan enter for the night, but only as and when Mary decided. There was an override digital pad on the outside of the door, but Dan did not have the code. Not only did he not have the code to open or close the door, he couldn't even switch on or off the light in the ceiling of 'his' room. That was worked from Mary's app too.

Truly, the correct designation of the room was the slave quarters, and Dan was the slave who happened to be currently quartered there. All of which emphasised the misalignment between Dan's perception of the package of sexy slavery he thought he signed up for and the package of total slavery his wife actually had designed for him.

As Dan hauled himself out of a deep sleep in response to the wake-up call, the new reality dawned on him. Yes, he was home again, but he was still in slave mode. At least the three days of slave training had accustomed him to waking up naked in harsh, minimalist surroundings. He struggled slightly to stand up due to the fact that his hands were still pinioned under his chin because his leather wrist cuffs were clipped to his padlocked leather slave collar.

Dan remembered: He had a job to do. Mary had told him that his first task each morning would be to bring his owner a cup of coffee in her bedroom. Even as she was putting the emphasis on the 'her,' Dan was confidently expecting to be back in 'their' bedroom as soon as Mary eased up on this total slavery trip. Bit over the top, Dan had thought, as he resigned himself to going along with it. See where it was all going.

Meanwhile he had to get busy. He was to deliver the coffee at six thirty. Allowing for the difficulty of having his hands pinioned to his collar, a naked Dan moved gingerly downstairs, leaning against the bannister rail, anxious not to fall and break his neck. The loose end of the chain hanging from his padlocked cock swung jerkily with each step, making a gentle tinkling sound.

Making the coffee and pouring it into her favourite mug was no more than awkward. Then, keeping an eye on the time, the naked slave carefully climbed the stairs, holding the mug of coffee directly in front of his face, because he couldn't hold it anywhere else. He guessed that he arrived outside the door at six twenty eight. And waited.

Like his own door, or to be correct, the door to the slave quarters, there was now a keypad lock on the door jamb of Mary's bedroom. He didn't know the combination. Extensive alterations had indeed taken place in his absence on slave training. Dan decided it would be best not to knock. Knocking is like asking a question, like saying 'can I come in?' After getting slapped down a few times yesterday for asking questions, Dan had learned that it might be best not to push for answers so much. Give Dan the enquiring scientist rest as it were. Mary will let me know when I can come in, he decided. Besides he was not sure he could knock on the door without spilling the coffee. The door slid open about five minutes later. Wisely, Dan didn't just march in. He waited for his summons to enter the bedchamber of his owner. Quick learner.

Another minute passed. With Dan standing patiently on the threshold, holding the mug of coffee in front of his face. Through the steam rising from the mug he could see his wife going about her business like he wasn't there. She walked naked across to the en-suite bathroom. He heard her pee and flush the toilet. She climbed back into her bed and sat up against the pillows. Every so often the chain at the tip of his penis tinkled in response to his slightest movement. It was a constant reminder, if one was needed, of what a sad and humiliated spectacle of manhood he presented as he awaited his owner's bidding.

'Now Slave, bring me my coffee,' ordered Mary indicating to him to place it on the bedside locker.

Due to his hands being tied under his chin, Dan had to bend right over to bring the coffee mug down to the level of the locker. Releasing his grip on the mug, he was about to straighten up when he felt Mary's hand on his back, pressing him back down. After a lonely night in his single bed in the slave quarters, Dan took great comfort from that firm yet gentle pressure on his back. Not just that it was the warm touch of human flesh on his flesh, but that it was the confident touch of an owner handling her property. Dan's cock stirred in response to that assured assumption of entitlement on her part to bend his body whatever way she wished. She knows she owns me and can do with me whatever she wishes, he thought. The loose length of chain hanging from the end of his cock shook and rattled as his cock stiffened further.

'Stay bent over like that, Slave, and swing your ass around till it faces me.'

Dan obliged, staying bent over but turning so he was facing away from her.

'Now spread your legs wide apart.'

Dan obliged once more, silently. He had decided that endless 'Yes, Madams' were redundant. Mary would let him know if she wanted each order acknowledged. He hadn't expected there to be any sexy slave action at this hour on Monday morning. He wondered if he was about to have a dildo inserted, or if an asshole inspection which would be part of the regular morning routine. Just to start each day by humiliating the slave and reminding him of his degrading subjugation. That would be great, he thought.

Before he fully realised what was happening, Mary, twisting sideways on the bed, had reached between his legs and opened the padlock that her pal Bette had attached the previous afternoon.

Bette had imprisoned Dan's penis using a small padlock to tie the Prince Albert piercing at the tip of his penis to the midpoint of a chain that hung from Dan's perineum piercing. The remainder of the chain hung from the lock at the tip of his penis, brushing his thighs, rattling occasionally. After Bette had left, Dan had bent over and examined the arrangement. He decided that it would allow his cock to stiffen and straighten but not allow it become erect. He would have a downwards slanting erection held down by a taut chain back to his perineum. Of course, with that thought, Dan's cock had promptly stiffened and tugged hard on the chain. Sure enough it pointed down between his knees and a dull ache grew from somewhere behind his balls as the chain tugged on its anchor.

Dan had also noticed that his Prince Albert piercing was a particularly thick silver ring penetrating half an inch into the tip of his penis and out the fleshy underside. It was matched by an equally thick silver ring inserted through Dan's perineum muscle halfway back to his asshole. Dan the science teacher decided that the thickness or the Prince Albert and perineum rings would ensure that there was no danger of either piercing being pulled out. That anchor was not going to drag. Dan would just have to put up with having his cock chained down until Mary decided otherwise.

Now with the lock opened, the prospect of being released from his chain beckoned. Might just get my cock freed before going back to work, he thought, with an inward smile, as naked and bent over, he listened to Mary's running commentary on what she was doing and what she could do.

'The reason I had Bette fix a length of the chain to your perineum piercing is that it allows me decide different levels of imprisonment of the penis or, to put it bluntly, how much to restrict the cock's movement, Dan.'

'Yes, Madam,' said Dan wanting to stay in Mary's good books. Especially since things were going so well down there between his legs.

'I'm sure you are curious as to why I am referring to 'the penis' and not to 'your penis.' Any thoughts, Slave' asked Mary, as she took the lock off the mid-point of the chain.

'Because it is not my penis anymore,' said Dan, listening gloomily to the padlock being re-shut with a very permanent sounding click. 'Nothing is mine any more, Madam. Everything is yours. You control everything, including my penis.'

'Well said, Slave. You are learning fast.'

'You should know that I will administer different levels of penile deprivation depending on how I rate your attitude and performance. The worst level is what we'll call the fully fucked position. It is when I lock your Prince Albert directly into the perineum piercing.'

'Why might I put you in the fully fucked position now, Slave?

'Because I asked too many questions and queried your decisions yesterday, Madam.'

'Correct.'

Mary pinched the head of his penis firmly, slipped the padlock through his Prince Albert and then into the end of the chain, just above the medallion that hung from the final link. She clicked the padlock shut.

'Now stand up and turn around, Slave.'

Dan was prepared to feel an immediate sharp tug on the tip of his severely tied down penis as he straightened. He gently eased himself fully upright and turned to face his owner, naked and exposed to her appraising gaze; her locked up property on display for her pleasure. To his surprise he felt nothing at all. No sharp tug, no stabbing pain. His surprise must have shown. Mary couldn't help laughing at him.

'Don't worry, Dan. I've not putting you in the fully fucked position just now. Just warning you about it. I want to give your piercings time to fully heal fully before putting them under strain. Instead, I'll ask Alice and her enforcer lady to administer punishment for your impertinence yesterday. Your piercings will quieten down soon enough. Then you had better look out, because being held in the fully fucked position for a week is what I had in mind for you.'

Dan frowned briefly as he considered the harshness of the proposed punishment compared to the accidental, almost forgetful, couple of verbal missteps he made yesterday. Separately, he wondered where Mary might keep the key of the little padlock. Even a temporary escape would be worth it if the opportunity arose while she was at work.

'Don't look so disappointed Dan. If it has to be done it will be, but only for a good reason. Besides, you can always win a reprieve through some magnificent demonstration of total servitude. I'm not inhuman. Acts of slavery above and beyond the call of slavery will be rewarded.'

'I appreciate that, Madam.'

Mary advised him that she had put him in the full freedom position which allowed the full length of the chain to run from his perineum to the padlock at the Prince Albert end of his penis. His erect cock could stand proud with the chain trailing loosely from the padlock at the tip of his penis down under and behind his ball sack to the perineum ring. The position she had Bette put him in yesterday, with the padlock attaching the tip of his penis to half-way along the chain, was a sort of half-way house, Mary pointed out. But, she said, if he was a very good slave, she would normally leave him in the full freedom position. From this, Dan concluded glumly that his penis would at all times be chained. That the small padlock would hang from his Prince Albert and thus the tip of his cock would always be connected to some part of the chain.

'Don't mope about it, Dan. Consider your chain and the piercings as a piece of slave jewellery. An adornment and a reminder of what you have chosen to become. Anyway I think it is more discrete than the full cock cage,' offered Mary, noting Dan's slightly forlorn expression. Feeling the need to soften the blow, she added that the chain was loose enough to allow Dan slip his hand under it and grip his hard-on whenever Mary might allow him to masturbate, or at least to tease himself, under her close supervision, of course.

'Of course, Madam,' replied Dan, perking up, seeing himself as the noble slave permanently in chains, being instructed to jack-off under supervision with Mary's entire book club for an audience. He could buy into that.

'Now take this coffee back downstairs and make me a fresh mug. I'm sure it's gone cold.'

'Yes, Madam.'

Dan stepped away from the bedside and headed down to the kitchen once more. At least the chain, now hanging in a U-shape below his balls, curving from the tip of his flaccid cock back to the perineum ring, didn't tinkle as much as before. Soon, he was ponderously making his way upstairs again, holding the new mug of coffee in front of his face. Mary, ignoring the fresh coffee he placed on the bedside table, bade him bend towards her. She unclipped his hands, told him to go and use the downstairs bathroom, just as he had in Alice's; i.e. enema included, then get her breakfast ready. She dismissed him with a condescending 'be a good boy' tap on his ass. She probably won't even drink the new cup of coffee, Dan concluded. And he was proved right.

Mary's reference to Alice, the school principal, and her assistant was the first indication that Dan would definitely face a physical punishment of some sort when he went into school later. This would be an attitude adjustment punishment, he decided. The price of having asked too many questions and queried too many of Mary's decisions on his first day out of slave training. Besides being the school principal and Dan's boss, Alice was Mary's best friend and was deeply involved in the scheme to bring Dan to a state of full and compliant slavery. According to Mary and Alice's slave playbook, immediate sanctions were required to achieve the necessary attitude adjustment. Over time Dan could come to dread Mary blithely surmising that 'an attitude adjustment is called for, I think.' He was about to find out that, while Mary mightn't like to administer contact type punishments like beatings or canings, she had no qualms about contracting out the task to someone else.

While getting their breakfast ready Dan wondered how best to put the logistics question that was troubling him. Simply put; how was he to get to work. He used to drive, but he accepted that that was then and this is now. In terms of attitude adjustment Dan had moved some way along from where he was at yesterday. He fully accepted that his life from now on would be very different from his life pre slave training. But he was still struggling with how to ask a very legitimate question without actually risking a further 'attitude adjustment' consequence. So Dan decided to wonder out loud how he might, in the next hour or so, get to his job as a science teacher in the local community college.

'Mary, if you don't mind me asking for some direction, how would you like me to get to school?' he hazarded as they tucked into breakfast.

Mary, power-dressed in a very chic steel grey business suit over a boat neck off-white satin blouse, paused over her hi-spec organic muesli with added hand-picked nuts and fruits, slowly stirring in a large spoonful of rich creamy yoghurt, probiotic and whatnot. Dan, waiting dutifully for her reply, sat across the table from her, perched naked on a white metal Ikea stool that cost about five euro. He was working on his bowl of two disintegrating own brand 'breakfast biscuits,' soggy with skim milk. His chain clanked regularly against the metal stool as he eased his weight from one buttock to the other, to relieve the pressure of the chain pressing into the tender flesh behind his balls. He felt like one of those cows in an alpine pasture, their cowbells tinkling every time they moved. He waited till Mary came to a conclusion.

'Well, Dan. Driving is out of the question, obviously. We can't have a slave driving off in a car by himself. Can we? He could just keep going and never come back. Don't want a runaway slave situation on our hands, now. Do we? Wouldn't do to make it too easy. Imagine if I contacted the county police to report that my slave had run away and I said he was driving my car. Well, they'd just laugh at me, or charge me with irresponsible slave minding or something. The fact that I know the newly appointed chief of police and she knows me wouldn't help. Frankly, embarrassing wouldn't describe it. And she knows all about you. Dan, too. So I'm sure you weren't thinking of driving. Were you?'

Enough of the rhetorical questions thought Dan as he muttered the obligatory 'No, of course not,' while parking the information that the local head police honcho knew all about him. Who else might know, he wondered. Did any of the other teachers in his school know? What if the pupils found out? Suddenly, his expectation of continuing a normal seeming life outside the house seemed a big ask. He realised Mary was still talking and forced himself to pay attention.

'Same with public transport. Slaves don't have money. Do they? So you can't buy a bus ticket. That leaves walking or cycling. Should you choose to cycle, you can use my old bike. I'll leave it up to you to decide.'

'See, Dan. I'm giving you freedom of choice. How's that feel? I'm not going to order every tiny detail of your life just for the sake of it. I'll let you have your own space on this one.'

'Thank you, Mary,' said Dan as perkily as he could muster, hoping it didn't sound too ironic and earn a punishment as a result. A wave of resentment had surged through him while Mary was setting out her logic for not allowing him use their car. The car that used to be his car was being taken from him. But as she talked on Dan calmed down. He quietly succumbed to yet another unintended consequence of his choice to become a slave. Dan switched out of driving mode. That was not for a slave, and he was now a slave. He'd not ask any questions. No bu..but..buts out of him. That was yesterday. Now he'd just go with the flow. And in future, when he'd be ordered to clean the car that used to be his car, and polish it for the sole benefit of Mary, his wife and owner - not a problem. All in a day's work for the average domestic slave. Slave Dan.