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Long Term Bondage Part Ten

Why was he still watching me? After waiting hopefully for him to untie my hands so I could eat like a human being, I'd finally given up and eaten directly off the plate. I sensed that he'd been hoping I'd capitulate and let him feed me by hand, and I was glad to disappoint him. finally he got tired of watching (I hoped) and left the room. I realised with fascination that he'd left the cameras running.... I suppose this was a crazy risk, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to redress the power balance a little. Certainly, I was still tied to my chair, but at least for now I wasn't gagged, so I looked straight into the camera and gave it the full force of my fury! It was particularly satisfying to let him know that none of his punishments had really hurt. This wasn't, alas, true, but I hoped it would make him a bit less pleased with himself when I'd gone home and he had a chance to review the tapes! Suddenly he was back, offering me pudding! I love dessert, and hadn't been expecting anything so nice from a man who'd spent the day punishing me. I should have anticipated it immediately, of course, but naturally he used the opportunity for yet more humiliation.... He ordered me to strip again (no surprise there!)and then tied me, facing up, to the dining table. This made me extremely nervous - during the course of the day I'd started to get used to the idea of being spanked, but what on earth was he going to do with the front half of me? When he brought out a big, delicious looking chocolate cake it was a wonderful relief; and even when he placed it on my tummy (it was cold!) and proceeded to serve himself, I wasn't really too upset. Yes, it was kind of humiliating to be used as a sort of platter - but compared to the fears that had been racing through my mind it was really quite pleasant.... And I suppose that's why, when he offered to feed me again, I couldn't resist any more. It looked so delicious and I certainly couldn't serve myself....I guess

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Long Term Bondage Part Nine

Unbelievably and delightfully, I was now instructed that it was almost dinner time and I would be allowed to dress for the meal. This was a great surprise, I’d been naked for most of the day and had hated it, especially as time had progressed and he had added to my collection of bruises. Bizarrely, he led me into a wardrobe room full of clothes and said I could choose what to wear. After only a few hours of ‘slavery’, this choice felt uncomfortable, dangerous even. I found myself suspicious that choosing an outfit that displeased him might result in punishment; and so what would normally have been a natural decision – to please myself – became a rather frightening guessing game. While I dithered, he remained calm, genial even; merely vetoing suggestions when my choices clashed with the restrains he wanted me to wear. Finally, clad in a blue silk dress and white cuffs which I thought were actually very beautiful, I was ready for whatever was going to come next. Surely having dinner, at an actual table, wearing proper clothes, would be far too comfortable an ending for a day of such unfathomable strangeness? I’m afraid I was disappointed – had he given up on me? How pathetic, after all that macho rule-giving and demerit-ing! When he suggested I do my makeup, I suppose I was ready to test some boundaries. Looking back, this was obviously crazy, but, well, it had been a crazy day. In my dubious wisdom I engaged him in conversation about how many demerits were left, what they might be, and whether they were open to negotiation? His response was swift and painful, and made use of an unexpected target! This frustrated me, but alas, didn’t serve as a sufficient warning. In trying to gain the upper hand (why?) I again overstepped the invisible line and got the strap, again, to the soles of my feet. This particular punishment was beginning to really terrify me, and I found myself pleading, actually pleading for him to use the strap on my hands instead.

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Long Term Bondage Part Eleven

The singularly strange (and painful) dinner over, I was ordered back into the dresing room to wash up and tidy myself. Since I was naked again, and cold, I was gratified to be provided with a warm pink dressing gown which gave me some hope that his behaviour was maybe entering a more reasonable phase? Once I'd finished, he told me to sit, and since he allowed me to use a stool rather than crouch on the floor, I began to allow myself to relax a little. Perhaps the trials were over for the day? But as I began to chat a little and try to engage him in conversation, (I admit, I couldn't help liking him when he wasn't hurting me, and I wanted him to like me too) a truly awful, blood freezing thought occured to me. Did he have CCTV? And if so, was he likely to review my behaviour (and more specifically, what I'd been saying behind his back!) before I had a chance to leave? Once this thought occurred to me, I couldn't help myself, I simply had to know! And I have to admit, a strange, perverse part of me didn't like to think that I might have cheated the system so easily - was it possible that I somehow craved punishment? It seems that yes, his studio was fitted with CCTV, and yes, he had monitered it. The penalty for my opinions was both harsh and immediate; and involved the hated black strap meeting the sensitive, and as yet unmarked flesh of my inner thighs. I screamed and screamed as neat red welts appeared, which stung hideously...... The combination of fear, pain and frustration had exhausted me. When I asked to go to bed he seemed perfectly happy (I wondered if perhaps I'd be sleeping with him?) But when he led me into the bedroom I simply couldn't BELIEVE what I saw! Surely he wasn't going to make me spend the night in that tiny cage! I could not accept this; I simply couldn't bear to. It was just too humiliating and I resolved to fight to the last rather than spend the night a willing captive....

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Long Term Bondage Part Eight

I'd hardly had any rest, and my skin was still prickling frm the after effects of the electric fly swatter, when he returned. It seemed that he intended to move straight on to my fourth 'demerit'. (4th? I'd hoped that 3 was the very last one...) But number four proved to be both the best and the worst. He began by securing me to the wall by my wrists and fitting a giant, red ball gag into my mouth (yes, I protested, and no, it made no difference...) From this unprotected position I watched him fearfully as he prepared further restraints. He tied a rope around my waist, then looped it between my legs before attaching it to a hook in the ceiling and hauling on it until my toes were barely on the floor. It's hard to describe this in writing, it's the strangest feeling. It certainly sounds painful, and it really is. But after a few seconds I realised (with something like triumph, I'm afraid) that the sensation was actually far from unpleasant.. The rope between my legs grated into my pussy, but it made me feel warm, excited and suddenly very, very wet! By moving a little, I could intensify the feelings even more - I couldn't believe that my demerit was going to be so much fun! I'd beaten him; he was trying to make me suffer, but I loved it! Maybe he noticfed, and was trying to bring me back down to earth, but when he attached painful little clamps to my nipples, I just felt even better; the stabs of feeling in my breasts matched the heat in my pussy, and I realised my breathing was getting heavy, I felt flushed, and above all, I felt like the winner... Obviously, I now see that this was foolish. I was the one tied to the wall, and of course, he could see exactly what was going on..... Watch the clip to see what action he took, what would you have done? And as for the way he made me climb the stairs afterwards - I can't bear to describe it!

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Long Term Bondage Part Seven

I was enjoying sitting in the corner. Certainly there was nothing to do, and I felt a weird mixture of fear, loathing and curiosity for my new companion, but I'd already survived a couple of ghastly punishments perfectly well, and to be honest, I felt rather proud of myself... Re-examining the experiences was rather pleasant, especially when I considered how brave I'd been, really.... But, in the new, ironic pattern of my day, just as I was feeling pretty ok, it all went down hill again, and fast. He was back, announcing it was time for my third demerit (this was awful, I couldn't remember how many there were going to be...). However, once I was in the stocks again (and hoping, hoping I wasn't in for another bastinado) I was baffled by him holding up what looked like a fly swatter! I was pretty sure, new to this though I was, that being spanked with something that lightweight would be NO problem. How was I to know that his cruelty and imagination would run to electrical torture? But perhaps worse than the actual pain, which was hideous - like hundreds of needles vibrating in my skin, was waiting for shock. I wished I could deny him the satisfaction of seeing me scared, but my nerves were too jangled, I whimpered and jolted in my restraints...

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Long Term Bondage Part Fourteen

Long Term Bondage It had been almost 24 hours since I'd entered his strange world and I felt lost, as though my role was merely to please him by suffering, although I couldn't understand why that should be what he wanted. Although the last demerit had only just finished and I was still tied to the wall in the same position (though finally with my feet apart so I could avoid the awful spikes) he now told me that he'd be punishing me again, immediately. This would be my final 'demerit' and he said that he'd been planning to use a crotchrope on me this time. But because I'd enjoyed it so much before, he'd decided to rethink his plan. Oh, how I wished that I hadn't let him see that the crotchrope had felt nothing like a punishment! 24 hours of physical sensation had left me feeling vulnerable and scared, and the idea of a little sexual fun would have been very appealing... Unfortunately, this wasn't a decision for me to make; and as he opened a case filled with what looked fearsomely like electrical equipment, I guessed that this final demerit wasn't going to be any easier than the others. Horrifically, as he approached me again, I saw that he was holding what looked to me like an electric wand. But surely he wouldn't actually be allowed to electrocute me? Wasn't that a bit too dangerous? After 24 hours I should have learned that when something looked just too frightening, too painful to contemplate - then it would definitely happen... Of course, it was agony when he ran the wand over my body, sending needles of pain through my limbs; but when it strayed between my legs the pain was so great that I felt my conscious self hovering somewhere above my body as I writhed against the restraints holding me... After testing my pain thresholds and obedience to limits I'd been unaware of; he finally said it was time for me to leave; my 'training session' was over. This was the news I'd been hoping for since the very beginning of the experience, and my night in the

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Long Term Bondage Part 5 - Sweet Silence

Silence Was this man even human? The soles of my feet were bright red and screaming with pain and I could hardly walk (and I certainly didn't want to, I couldn't stand the idea of him seeing me struggling). When we got back upstairs I curled up into a ball and resolved not to talk to him any more. My only hope was to be left alone till the pain was gone, and not dragged back down to the dungeon. I couldn't have ever imagined that a modern girl, living in England would have ended up in fear of a dungeon, whips, some sort of weird Master.... Just when I was resolving not to let him do anything with me from now on, it seemed that he had other ideas. He brought out some long lengths of rope and proceeded to tie me up, tightly. Of course I protested - the last thing I wanted was to be restrained again, my feet were still throbbing a warning to me, and the thought of more punishment was, frankly terrifiying.... When I was finally bound into a tight, uncomfortable ball, with my knees almost touching my chin and my hands tied uselessly behind me he rolled me over in front of the sofa and, just when I thought he might be about to leave me in peace, proceeded to use me as a footstool! To be treated like this without one word of explaination was, again, simply too much for me; my fury was overwhelming. Looking back, I can't believe I was so slow on the uptake. Lying on the floor with some random stranger's feet resting on me was unbearably humiliating and the only way I could think of to gain some control over the situation was to make an attempt at conversation. Surely he couldn't actually ENJOY treating a nice, educated girl like me in this way, could he? Apparently he could. Every time I spoke, he seemed to find a more uncomfortable part of my body to rest his boots on; when I found myself with his feet planted on my head, and my face squashed into the carpet, I finally guessed what he was looking for from me - silence. Once I realised that this was, in fact, some

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Long Term Bondage Part Four

The Second Demerit It was horrific to enter the dungeon again. For a start it was absolutely freezing, I was naked again, and some stocks had been placed in a spotlight. What were they for? With my last visit down here still a fresh and painful memory, I stared desperately around, trying to get some clue of what was likely to happen to me next. I couldn’t see the cane, and I hoped and hoped that he wouldn’t use that again…. It didn’t surprise me when he led me to the stocks, but when he put my ankles into them I was baffled and horrified. What was he planning? Surely he wasn’t going to hurt my feet? With the soles turned upward, they presented an un-guarded target, but surely not? Maybe being placed in the stocks was a punishment in itself. It was certainly painful, the floor was icy, and the wooden restraints bit into my ankles. Looking up, I realised he was holding another huge ball-gag. I put up a fight this time - I hated gags – but he yanked my hair back and forced it in anyway, buckling it tight behind my head. My mouth was stretched wide and the video camera zoomed in, no doubt capturing my reaction as I struggled to adjust to the pain in my jaw, and the humiliation of being unable to look anything but startled and slave-like. The demeaning position was certainly punishment enough, but when he selected a sturdy looking riding crop and I realised that indeed he did intend to use it on the bare soles of my feet, I panicked and scrabbled to protect them with my hands. I shouldn’t have bothered, he attached my wrists to the wall in front of me and I was left completely unprotected, and beginning to get really scared of what was coming. The first couple of strokes were deeply unpleasant, but not agonising. Alas, he seemed to notice this, and perhaps disappointed by my response he unclipped the vile strap from his belt again and applied it to my feet. This was true agony, of a kind I’d never experienced, and hope to never experience again.

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Long Term Bondage Part Three

Lunch Time Once I’d finished my makeup I felt a little more like myself and ready to defend me dignity if necessary. I was still naked, which made me pretty unhappy, especially in front of a fully dressed stranger with a whip….. How could I keep some kind of control over the situation? How could I win? Then he was back, interrupting my thoughts and demanding, in a way that I found offensive, that I show him the clothes I’d brought. He selected a short red dress (my favourite, I couldn’t fault his taste) but refused to allow me to wear any panties. Somehow being clothed but without underwear only served to make me feel more vulnerable, but made up, and at least fairly covered (if I moved carefully, which I intended to do) I let myself hope that maybe we were moving into a new, more civilised period of this strange relationship. When he offered me lunch, though, I felt suspicious. My hands were cuffed behind my back and I was kneeling on the floor. This was no way to eat a meal! My grim suspicions were immediately confirmed when he put some fruit in what looked ominously like a dog bowl and, without untying my wrists, proceeded to try to feed me by hand! It was too much, humiliation overwhelmed me and I refused. How I wish I could have thrown it at him, how could he expect me to let him feed me after all the stuff he’d done? Without a word, he dumped the bowl in front of me, turned away, and began eating his own lunch. Of course, my first thought was to ignore the food in front of me. I couldn’t eat like this, it was dehumanizing, and what’s more, it would look as though I was accepting this ludicrous, lowly position. And I was not! But then….. what if he didn’t feed me all weekend? Though he’d hardly spoken so far, I’d already gathered the impression of an unbending and possibly actually sadistic man who might not have any objection to keeping me hungry for the next day and night. While playing around with my boyfriend, the idea of

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Long Term Bondage Part Two

After the awful man had finished using his cane on me, he left me dangling helplessly from my wrists for several minutes. Relieved as I was that the caning was over and that I was alone for the time being, I was absolutely desperate to get my hands free and see if they could be of any comfort at all to my poor bottom, which honestly felt as though lines of fire were burning across it. As I stood, miserably facing the wall, I hoped with all my heart that he’d had enough of hurting me now, and that the nightmarish quality of the last half hour would soon fade….. Suddenly he was back, untying my hands and allowing me to collapse to the floor of the dungeon. Then, hideously (and I can’t believe this actually happened, it was more humiliating than I can bear to explain) he attached a dog lead to my collar and coldly made it clear that he expected me to crawl from now on, all across the dungeon and up the stairs. With the caning still fresh in my mind it seemed too risky to resist, so I reluctantly picked my way across the hard concrete floor to the flight of stairs. At this point I realized with mounting horror that as I crawled up the stairs with him behind me; if he chose he’d be able to enjoy a full view of the area between my legs and there was nothing at all that I could do to prevent it. My face was bright red with embarrassment by the time I reached the first floor. Upstairs really was fairly pleasant; and when he gave me a bottle of aloe vera gel and left me alone to rub it on the stripes across my bottom, I wondered if perhaps the worst might be over. He’d demonstrated some kind of human feeling, after all, and I hoped that perhaps soon he’d give me my clothes back and the ghastly time in the dungeon (and the talk of ‘demerits’) would be forgotten. The awful burning started to fade and I sat carefully on the comfortable looking leather sofa in the corner. For a moment I wondered if perhaps that might be against the rules; but I never signed up

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