Even with the ever increasing pain in my muscles, my joints and various parts of my epidermal anatomy which I was sure were beginning to fuse permanently with the tape, I began to make out dim shapes in the dark room as my eyes became accustomed to the dark. At least something to focus on, I thought. In the background was the sonorous tones of the TV. God, that sounds so dull, what if he falls asleep there with me stuck like this ?!!!
I couldn't even entertain the hope of rousing him since I couldn't move or utter a sound over a nasal, soft whimper. I was sore, I hadn't had anything to eat or drink except the apple I had to chase across the table top. I was hungry and thirsty and my mouth was drying out after having been stuffed all day.
I can't hang on! I have to get out! This seems to have gone way past just checking out the contents of the toy box.... OK,, I did say I wanted to get my money's worth out of these things, but !!!!
Finally I HEAR THE TV shut down. That's good, at least he hasn't fallen asleep. Now, will he come in here and rescue me, or will he just sojourn up to bed and remember me in the morning? He's got to come this way. This is becoming torture and then some. OK, I'll talk! here's the secrets to the Hydrogen Bomb, now let me out, PLEASE! (with my face stuffed and well muzzled though, it didn't quite come out that way. In fact, it sounded like a few nasal low volume whines.)....
Damm! My eyes! Whaattt?
He had crept around the corner and turned on the big room light which was just above me. OUCH, I murmured (through my nose of course).
He squats down with his face just inches from my nose. I'm glad he went light on the garlic for dinner... Whew, can't move at all, shut up an take it...
"Think you have learned you lesson about cussing me out?"
I didn't really cuss him out, more like his parentage, but I decided not to quibble at this point. "Nodding my head as much as the stick would allow accompanied my varying tones of nasal whining to show him I was serious --- YES, YES YES" but again it didn't quite come out that way.
Surely he'd get the drift... "PLEASE LET ME OUT!" I intoned.
A big smile spread over his face. Did I screw up again? He can't make this worse, can he?
"OK, I think I'll accept your apology... but you do agree to the additional week now, don't you?"
What was I going to say? Agree to it or stay like this for perhaps days? I started to shake my head no, but reason finally prevailed and I nodded , "yes."
"Not good enough. I'm not convinced. Plead to me for a third week and convince me you're sincere." he yawned and acted like he was going to go up to bed.
If I could have moved, I would have groveled at his feet, but I had to make do with more head nodding and nasal whining....
I felt him undo the muzzle rope allowing my head to move a bit again. "You understand and agree that any more outbursts or screw-ups will add more time to your status?" Not being able to say anything, I just nodded my head, relishing in the new freedom of movement my head was now enjoying. I was still trussed up, kneeling at attention, so I was in no position to argue.
"Oh, and by the way, you also lost your freedom for the remainder and will act and be no more than a slave. Right? You yield your freedom, such as it is, of your own will? "
Again I nodded, but just let my head hang on my chest. WTF does that mean? He can't tie me up any more than he already has, can he?
Upon seeing my total surrender, he began removing the restraints. The tape did in fact merge with my skin (or so it felt) and its removal was effected by a few quick yanks. So now I realized why he left the harness and gag in place. He didn't want to frighten the neighbors with my screams!
Finally he helped me stand and told me to sit at the table. He then microed a TV dinner thing and placed it and an open bottle of beer on the table in front of me. "Eat up." He said still smiling. The dog! The Hound! I was sure I was right about his parentage but all I could do was whimper.
"You're going to be a good slave through the end of this program, aren't you?" Crushed again! I just nodded and whimpered as I let my head hand onto my chest.
Finally, I heard a click and then another as the straps to the muzzle were loosened. When it came off, I leaned over and spit out that rolled up sock, that I think landed with something between a thud and a splat on the floor.
"Beer" I tried to get out, but my throat was so dry, it sounded like I swallowed a frog. Nonetheless, he was way ahead of me and soon the glass rim was touching my lips and the divine fluid was washing down my throat.
Half a bottle later as he calmly said to slow down, and rolled the bottle from my lips. "Thanks." "I was afraid you were really going to leave me like that until dinner tomorrow"
"I was" he replied deeply. "I decided to only release a slave and feed him. Had you offered any alternative, I'd be sleeping now and you'd still be trussed up like a turkey waiting for Thanksgiving."
Not wanting to let him dwell on this topic any further, "How am I supposed to eat with these shackles on my wrists?"
"Just step through them" he said. He knew that my butt was just big enough to make for another few minutes of entertainment for him as he kept cheering me on lie he was watching a wrestling match. Finally I succeeded and held them out to him to unlock.
"Not a chance. You and those 20 pounders (actually only about 10, but it felt like 20) are going to become real close buddies over the next three or more weeks." (Or More? what does he have in mind now?)
Yes, it took a while to get used to moving both hands in the same direction at the same time and making sure the trailing links didn't knock something over, but I made it through dinner and another beer as we sat there and chatted totally disregarding my clinking apparel.
Finally, he picked up the dishes and told me to shower and hop into a speedo for the night. You'll sleep free --- like that, pointing to my chains. Tomorrow is another day and a whole new regime for a slave.... "Good night" as he trudged off to bed.
What to do? Oh yes, Shower. Losing my shorts and letting the water warm up, I wondered what he was planing on doing to me next.. My mind hearkened back to a session with his industrial tweezers as I noticed a bristle feel where it shouldn't be.
I slipped into the shower and sat under the warm spray, finally deciding he wasn't going to have a chance to torture me like that again. I grabbed the shaving cream and a new razor, but instead of trimming the parts he was most interested in, I got to work...
By the time I emerged, I was as smooth as prepubescent 12 year old from the neck down: Trunk, backside, arms (how am I going to explain that when I'm wearing short sleeves? Oh well.) and legs.
By the time things get to within his tweezer range, the three weeks will likely be up. Boy was I feeling clever as I dried myself (yeah, only hit my head twice with the hard cuff --- ouch) and then scampered into the bedroom. Found a pair of speedos and put them on as instructed.
...crawled between SHEETS with head on a real pillow and drifted offf t zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Last edited by tony2
on Tue Jan 10, 2017 7:12 am, edited 1 time in total.