Man I had really screwed up. I shifted around in the position she had left me in, pressure directed at my poor tightly locked cock, thinking back to how nice the morning had been, and how it had gone so badly wrong. The video she had made of me, us really, had definitely thrown me for a loop. So much so that, after all the rest of the kidnap, and the bondage, and the sex, I really had zonked right out in the protective embrace of my kidnapper. Hadn’t meant to, but all tied up in my catsuit and bondage I had actually, weirdly, felt kind of safe. Like that was my own little world and no one could touch me there. Damn it, why hadn’t I just stayed there?

I had started up out of my dreamless sleep to find her gone. She hadn’t tied me down to anything, and my legs were still fairly free. I was torn even then, I could admit that to myself now. Now that she had recaptured me so damned easily. But at the time it had seemed like this might be my one final chance to escape. To escape before whatever she was doing to me took hold strongly enough that I didn’t want to escape anymore. So I had done it. Gotten up, as quietly as I could from the couch, and slowly shuffled towards the door. Looking back I couldn’t believe what I had been thinking. Damn it, she had almost been acting human towards me that morning, albeit with a heavy dose of bondage thrown in. She’d been one step ahead of me in everything else from the moment she decided to kidnap me, why wouldn’t she have some hell spawned butt plug based security system. She’s a damned demoness from hell after all, Satan would give her the best.

I let out a groan as the ropes tightened again around my groin, drawing a delighted chuckle from my Mistress, still sitting near me. Why the hell had I broken that morning spell of semi-kindness that she had extended to me? She had certainly kicked it up a notch today. Everything in her reaction spoke to her desire to keep me and mold me into a good slave. All morning, before The Incident, she had been pretty nice to me, all things considered. But when I had ‘tried to run out on her’ as she put it, as though I were some cheating boyfriend, boy had she lost it. The chastity punishment was bad enough, three friggin days damn it, but everything that followed just kicked it up a notch. The combo security system and room tour had been something dragged out of my darkest fantasy, with her so completely in control and rubbing my face into it. By the time we had made it to her room I was pretty much drunk on my feet from sensation. The entrance had carried me over, depositing me and my mind in a broken heap in front of her.

When she asked me for an apology I didn’t even have time to process a coherent thought. I just found myself lunging down to her boots, worshipping them to my utmost ability in a desperate attempt to gain back some of her good graces. At this point I couldn’t think about escape, hell wasn’t sure I wanted to after seeing what I was up against, so I had to regain some of the ground I had lost through my little stunt. It seemed to have some positive effect. That and my innate shyness really seemed to be a point in the positive column for me in her eyes. She came back from the brink of her bitchqueen persona anyway. Not all the way back to what we had been at this morning, as my current stress position and multi day enforced chastity demonstrated, but part of the way at least.

I moaned into my gag again, giving little hip thrusts to catch her attention.

“Aww, what is it Davey? Do you want some attention?”

“Mmph!”

“Well I can’t give you that sort of attention yet my little slave. You’re spending three days locked up. Don’t think you can give me cute little smiles and blushes to change any of that. You have to take your punishment like a good boy before I can reward you.”

I felt her hand glide up my leg and shuddered at the contact. “Mmmmmmph!”

“Hmmm, how long have we been out here?” She tapped her finger on my chastity cage, feigning absent mindedness, “I wondeeeer.”

I whined into my gag, desperately thrusting at her hand. To no avail, my plastic prison remained firmly locked around my manhood.

She came into view then, crouched over me, that manic little grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. If she wasn’t so completely nuts she’d be damned cute. “Ready to get out of this position Davey?”

“MMHM!” I grunted emphatically.

“I think we’ve been out here most of the afternoon. The sun’s getting a little low anyway. How about some food and then a nice relaxing activity for the evening?” She ran a hand slowly over my hooded face, watching my eyes, “I think you’ve been punished enough for today hmm?”

“Yeff Miftref” I mumbled into my gag.

She smiled at that and then set about untying me from her fiendish little rope trap that she had ensconced me in. It took a little while, and she left my crotch bindings in place until she freed me completely from the chair. Standing me up she finally loosened them off, prompting a heartfelt sigh of relief from me as my groin was at last free from the tensioned cords.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I mumbled another muffled “Yes Mistress.” She gave my leash a tug, “Let’s get inside. I’ll give you a bit of supper, and then we can bash on with our evening.”

She led me indoors. As we crossed over the threshold I instinctively quickened my pace, nearly coming up onto her back. She pushed me back with a little chuckle, “I’m hardly going to set it off on you to keep you from trying to enter the house silly.”

I grumbled into my gag. I wasn’t the lunatic who had built a system like this. I was the poor bastard stuck inside and she had the nerve to make me out to be the one who was being silly?!

She gave me a swat on my rear, “No back-talk now Davey. You’re on the road back into my good graces, but it’s a narrow winding path. Very easy to plummet back to where you started. So behave.” She punctuated that with another spank.

“Mmmph!” I yelped.

She hadn’t waited for my reaction, just pulled me along back into the kitchen where a small bowl of fruit was now situated on the table. I stood in the middle of the kitchen, the butt plug once again happily buzzing away in my rear, as she sat down next to the bowl and gestured me forward. I approached her warily but she just wordlessly pointed down at the ground in front of her, a little twinkle in her eye.

I grumbled into my gag but quickly got down onto my knees. I definitely wasn’t going to be crossing her anytime soon!

“Good boy.” She picked up a large strawberry from the bowl and dangled it in front of me, “Here’s how this is going to work Davey. Since you need some reinforcement of your place in my life after each piece of fruit I give you, you are going to kiss my boot and thank me. Understand?”

“Mmm mmhm mph!” I garbled out a response while giving a little nod. I was starving, not having eaten since those pancakes earlier today. Knowing her every meal was going to involve some sort of fetish submission going forward. My cock strained against its cage at the thought. Damn it. Either she knew me really well, or she was really good at ferreting out my buttons on the fly.

She undid my hood, drapping it on the table, and then unbuckled the ball gag from my mouth. It was left dangling from my neck like a second collar. She seemed to enjoy leaving it there. Like a promise of something to come.

The first strawberry approached my lips. I leaned forward and took a bite out of it, letting out a little moan of contentment as I chewed. I swallowed and then leaned down, planting my lips on her sexy boots and giving them a kiss. I straightened back up and raised my eyes to meet hers, blushing a little as I did so.

“Thank you Mistress.”

“You’re welcome slave. Would you like some more?”

I nodded, “Please Mistress.” My blush deepened as I saw her grin.

“If you hadn’t behaved so poorly today slave I’d take you back downstairs after this and fuck your brains out. Your cute little blush really sets off your eyes.”

I ducked my head, reddening further. She laughed at my embarrassment, holding out another strawberry.

And so we continued on. Me eating each morsel she presented to me, then lavishing some attention on her kinky boots before thanking her. She, distributing the food to me like a benevolent goddess, receiving worship and thanks for her kindness. That thought struck me as I was midway through giving her boots another deep kiss. Seemed appropriate. I’m sure if she knew what I was thinking she would have approved. I was to be her slave in my new life. A prisoner for her to control and be worshipped and obeyed by. Man, she was starting to get into my head in a major way.

Soon enough we had made our way through the entire bowl of fruit. As soon as I had planted my last kiss and said my last thank you she leaned forward, unbuckled the gag, and cocked her head slightly to the side, staring at me.

I lowered my eyes from hers and opened my mouth. She made an approving noise and pushed the ball gag firmly back in, tightening it down. My arms were untied from their ropes and the familiar armbinder reapplied to them. This time not as tight as before, merely ensuring a snug yet comfortable fit. Then the Gwendoline hood came back, fitted snugly around my head and once again leaving only my eyes and nose visible to the world. I gave a small sigh. She evidently heard it and tapped my nose with a finger.

“I think you’ll be happy enough to have that hood on slave. We’re going to go on a walk.”

Instantly my contentment vanished, replaced by some odd mixture of fear, embarrassment, and a smaller than expected thought of escape once outside. My overriding thought was not being seen all bound up in rubber and leather? Didn’t I want someone to see? To help me escape? I had clearly communicated some part of my thoughts to her through the worry in my eyes because she gave a little cluck and patted my hooded head.

“There there now Davey. I told you, we are very secluded out here. No one’s going to see you all dressed up, and even if someone does, you’re my slave. No one’s looking for you, and even if they were, they certainly wouldn’t be looking around my home. You’re nice and anonymous.” She gave the top of my head a little kiss, “So don’t worry so much, and just come along for the ride. Leave all the worrying and thinking with me. That’s what a Mistress’ job is. You just concentrate on obedience and submission like a good slave boy.”

Any further worries I might have been able to make known were mooted as she stood up and pulled me along after her, back towards the front hall. The buzzing from my plug began to increase, drawing a moan of mixed dread and pleasure.

She giggled from in front of me, “Whoops, I guess I better turn that off huh? She fiddled with the fob controlling her infernal little system and I felt the vibrations in my rear die. I gave a relieved huff into my gag, drawing a little smile from my domme. She stopped me near the front door, where her umbrella stand and mirrored closet were, and began rummaging through the front hall closet looking for something. I ignored her for the moment and examined my reflection in the mirror. Still completely encased in red rubber from neck to ankle, leather hood encompassing my head, and a leather armbinder drawing my arms firmly behind me. The picture of submission. I made eye contact with my reflection. Even my eyes were a little, I dunno, duller I guess. Certainly they’d lost some of the urgent fire to escape. I had learned my lesson from this morning. If I went along with my devious dominatrix she could be decent to me. Bordering on normal. Misbehave and Satan’s mistress came tumbling out of her ready to kick ass, in this case mine, and take names.

My brief reverie was broken off as she straightened up from the closet and turned around, a pair of knee high red kinky boots in her hand. They had a three inch heel to them and were of the same material as her own. I gave a little whimper into my gag at the mischevious light in her eyes.

“Well I can’t have you going for a walk barefoot now can I? Be grateful Davey, I’ve got pony boots in there as well, so you can either be happy with these, or our walk will turn into more of a ride and you’ll be pulling a cart, ok?”

I grumbled into my gag at that, but I didn’t resist as she bent down and began fitting my legs into the boots. As I felt first one leg and then another enclosed by the kinky footwear I had to admit I felt a little thrill. I was now completely done up, from head to toe, as a rubber bondage slave. I wouldn’t be out of place at a fetish convention, modeling the latest in restraint and enforced submission. Or at some random dungeon somewhere. I swear, if this lady and I had met under different circumstances this might almost have been a fun introduction to actual bondage. As it was…it wasn’t all bad.

With my boots on she touched the control fob and I felt a little tingle in my rear again as my plug hummed away on a low setting. I moaned into my gag and she gave me a little smile again before sitting on a small bench next to the umbrella stand and began taking off her domme boots. I watched her a little quizzically, as best I could with the butt plug distracting me. One after another the long kinky boots came off her legs, being placed carefully upright next to the umbrella stand. The she brought out a pair of comfy looking hiking boots. As she placed them on I gave a grunt through my gag.

“What? I’m not going to traipse through the outdoors in my dominatrix boots Davey. You did such a good job cleaning them, and they are a pain to walk around in.” She grinned at me as she tightened the laces, “Maybe I’ll wear them outdoors for you when you’re doing some pony training.”

“Mmmph!”

“I agree, it will be fun!” Her grin widened as I growled into my gag, “I do enjoy our one sided conversations. Makes it a lot simpler doesn’t it Davey?”

I muttered something which I should probably be happy the gag prevented from actually being heard. She didn’t pay it any mind, standing up and withdrawing her crop from the umbrella stand once again.

“It’s my outdoor crop” She explained, seeing my questioning, and rather nervous, glance at it. She ran it along my rubber encased upper legs, giving me a few playful taps with it, “Perfect for keeping a rambunctious slut in line on his walks.”

“Mmmph!”

She laughed and then opened the door, tugging me out through into the outdoors. I looked around, noticing immediately that it was just like she had described it to me, very secluded indeed. There was a large open circled drive, in which her car was parked. Trees enclosed her home on all sides, and lined the long drive all the way down until it intersected with a gate and a road. The gate was fairly high, probably around ten feet of wrought iron and connected to a fence of the same material. I could see that it disappeared into the treeline on either side. Probably ran around her entire property. A few well worn paths led off from her circled drive and she tugged my leash, forcing me to follow in her wake, as she strode confidently towards one of them. I struggled along, trying to get used to the added height and awkward stride required for walking in my own fetish leather boots.

She turned her head as she walked, that damnable grin still on her face as she watched me struggle along, “How’re those boots working out Davey?”

I growled into my gag in frustration as I minced along behind her. This was not pleasant.

“I knew you’d like them!” She giggled.

She sighed in contentment as we embarked along the path, the shade of the trees keeping us covered from the sinking evening sun, “I do love evening strolls through the woods Davey. Maybe we can make this a little tradition of ours hmm? You won’t always have to be in high heeled boots.”

“Fahnk oo Miftresf” I mumbled into my gag, my calves already beginning to burn. We haldn’t even gone a hundred meters yet. Fuck my life.

“Not at all. Sometimes you’ll be my pony, other times maybe you’ll be on all fours like a little puppy. There’s all sorts of options apart from those boots.”

“Mmmph!” I complained into my gag. Those weren’t better!

She only laughed in response, pulling me along on my leash. It was a little surreal, walking along in the woods, something I had done a thousand times before. Only this time in an extremely kinky slave outfit with a devious dominatrix holding me captive. Other than that, totally normal.

We meandered along the path at a fairly slow pace. I kept falling behind due to my inexperience with walking in heels. Occasionally I got them stuck in a hole, or in some soft ground. Something that I felt was pretty reasonable given that she was making me walk along dirt or muddy trails. Not from her reaction though. If the leash ever went taut because I wasn’t keeping up, the crop sprang into action. Flicking out from her hand, a mischevious grin plastered on her face, she paid close attention to my rear and upper thighs. Soon enough my calves weren’t the only part of my body that felt like they were on fire. My cock strained against its cage as she cropped me, the plug buzzed away, and my body was awash in pleasure and pain as I minced along behind my mistress.

Who would’ve thought that an easy walk outdoors would be among the hardest things I had done since I’d been kidnapped?

I don’t know exactly how long the walk lasted, I was that lost in my little world. One foot in front of the other. Try to resist crumpling to the ground from the butt plug’s vibrations. Keep up with Mistress. Don’t get stuck. Fuck, got stuck. Get out without too many smacks from the crop. Try to focus on something else, literally anything else, to get my cock to calm down. I didn’t even bother looking at the surrounding woods and path. I just focussed on the path directly in front of me, and the sashaying jeans covered ass of my Mistress. Just when I thought I couldn’t keep up, when I was on the verge of collapse because my calves couldn’t carry me another step, we were suddenly free of the trees. I looked up, relief flooding through me. We were back. Back at the house. Back at my prison. I gave a thankful sigh. At least the damn walk was over.

She didn’t break her stride, leading me up the steps and into the house, pausing at the front hall only long enough to shuck her boots and place the riding crop back inside the umbrella stand. Then she walked back, bring me with her, and began descending down into her basement dungeon.

“It’s been a long day slave, time for me to go to bed.” She assisted me in navigating my way down the stairs, made all that more difficult from the boots I wore, and the fact that with my collar and hood I couldn’t see my feet. Once down on the dungeon floor she led me over to the cage I had spent the night in before and bundled me back into it. She briefly removed my hood, fitting the earphones back into my ears, before selecting a thicker sensory deprivation bondage hood from next to the cage, securing it tightly around my head. I whined into my gag, trying to gesture with my restrained arms that I wanted out of the armbinder at least.

“Do you think you deserve to be let out of your armbinder Davey?” Her muffled voice came dimly through the layers of leather that held my head tightly.

I whimpered and whined into my gag, pleading with her to show me a little mercy. My arms were so damned sore at this point, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like after a long night of tight bondage.

“Pleeaf Miftresf Pleeeeeeasef.” On and on. Yeah it’s pathetic. I don’t care. No armbinder, for the love of God please.

“Hmmmm. I suppose….I suppose I can show you this one little kindness.”

I felt the straps around me begin to loosen as she worked them free and gave a relieved whimper, just repeating a muffled “thank you Mistress” over and over again into my gag. She patted my head as the armbinder came free, and I kept my arms behind my back, wanting to stay on her good side for the rest of the evening. Soft leather cuffs captured my wrists, linking them together with a single link of chain. Then I was backed into the cage, and lay down on my stomach. More cuffs were buckled around my ankles, and then I was secured into a restrictive but comfortable hogtie.

“Poor little Davey all locked up in the cage. Don’t you wish you could sleep somewhere else tonight?”

“Mmmph!”

“Well too bad. Yu haven’t earned that privilege quite yet. Your little stunt today has seriously set you back in my esteem. You’re going to have to seriously apply yourself to earning back my good graces. Now, relax, and listen to your training recordings. The night will pass along quickly enough.”

The cage door in front of me gave a metallic clang as she swung it shut and locked it. As I heard her footsteps began to pad away from me the butt plug kicked its vibrations up and her slave recording that she had made for me began again. Her whispery voice crooning into my ear, keeping my cock straining at its prison.

 “You are a slave. A slave to me. It feels so good to submit. Bow your head slut. Worship your Mistress. You are a slave. What a naughty slut you are. You are my boy now, I own you. My collar is locked around your neck. You are a slave to me.”

 

I was woken up by the sensation of being lifted up into the air.

“Gggmpph!?”

“Good morning Davey, did you sleep well last night?” Her voice was bright and cheerful. Damn her.

“Grrmmphbr” I grumbled into my gag as I was swung up and out of the cage. Once again she used her pulley system to guide me, suspended in mid air, across her dungeon to the table on which she had initiated me into the glorious world of bondage sex. My heart started to beat a little faster. Had she taken pity on me? Was I going to escape my chastity two days ahead of schedule? Oh God I hope so. My cock’s had nothing for a day, and she’s been, well…been her for that long. I’m not sure I could take much more of the constant teasing she was dishing out.

I felt my hogtie being undone and then my ankles brought up, attached to chains dangling from the pulley. This kept them pointing straight out from my waist, and at that point she lowered me onto the table. I groaned into my gag as the butt plug was forcefully pushed deeper into my ass as I settled my weight onto the table. I felt a hand stroke my head in response. Then the hand moved, trailing its way down my partially suspended body to rest, with all sorts of half thought implications, on my caged cock.

“Mmmmmm” She purred, her mouth feeling like it was just an inch or two from my ears, “Do you want me to take this off?”

“MMHM.” I moaned loudly into my gag as she began to stroke her fingers up and down the hard plastic, teasingly touching my inner thighs as well. Oh God. Please, please, please!! I garbled out more sounds through my gag, making all sorts of unintelligible promises. I just wanted release, I’d do anything. Please. I’ll lick every pair of boots you have in this place, pleasure you as many times as you want! Just let me cuuuuuuuum!

With a hard flick she withdrew her hand from my restrained penis and gave my hooded head a playful slap, “Bet you’re starting to regret your dumb bid for freedom then huh? Only good boys get to have sex with their Mistress. You could’ve had me all over you this morning. I had such plans for you. Oh well.” She trailed her hands back up my rubber enclosed body and gave my nose a boop through the thick hood, “Sucks to be you doesn’t it slave?”

“GGAAMMPH!” I screamed in frustration into my gag, but that was just met with another slap, this one a little less playful.

“Don’t get started slave. If you behave yourself today I might give you a bit of a treat. But you aren’t going to be getting release until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your lesson. Now, let’s get your bathroom business done with and get you started on the day.”

I groaned into my gag at what this entailed. She rotated me backwards until my back was firmly resting on the table, trapping my arms behind me, and my feet pointed straight up in the air. Moments after that I felt her fiddling with her devilish butt plug. In what felt like one smooth motion it was pulled from me and the enema plug pushed firmly into place.

“Mmmmuumph!” I whimpered as it filled me. Without being able to see anything I could only guess at what else she was doing, but the sudden rush of water into my rear clued me in. I grunted and whined at this fluid assault on my body and dignity. She stayed with me this time, running her hands along my catsuited body. I’m not sure if it was a reward, or because she was missing out on bondage sex, but in either case I was grateful I wasn’t suffering through this alone in my own personal darkness. Her caresses and soothing murmers through my isolation hood did a lot to keep my mind off the rapidly building pressure in my intestines.

Soon enough though I hit that point again of not being able to concentrate on anything but the pressure in my guts. My muffled plaintive cries overpowered anything she might have been trying to impart to me. I just lay there, shivering and shuddering, and generally feeling sorry for myself while the cramps built. Once again, fuck my life. This sucked. Mt attempt to fight my restraints was held back by her powerful arms, not letting me even have the chance to buck myself free of the table this time.

Then, mercifully, I felt myself being rotated back upright. My feet cleared the table and found their shaky way to the floor. The pulley system still held me upright while she let go of me to remove the hose and other enema paraphanalia from my rear. The plug remained, and once more I was guided over to conduct my business in the bathroom. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed going to the bathroom so much as the past two days.

Once I was finished she removed my hood, finally letting the clean lighting of the dungeon’s bathroom spill into my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the brightness as she snapped my wrist cuffs to an overhead hook. Working quickly I found myself completely stripped of everything except my wrist restraints, gag, and chastity cage. She unhooked the showerhead and spooled it out and over to me.

“Just think Davey. If you behave this can be a much more sensual process. We can clean each other together in my bathtub upstairs. As it is…”

She flicked the shower head on and ran the water over me.

“GAAAAAAAA!” I shrieked into my gag. It was ice cold. She laughed in glee as I tried to dance around and away from the water, but she kept it pointed at me wherever I went.

“Hold still slave, I’ll make it warmer for your actual cleaning. Goodness me, so picky about temperature aren’t you?” She mocked me as the water gradually warmed to room temperature.

She began scrubbing my body down with soap and a washcloth, being fairly clinical about the whole thing. Except when she reached my ass and crotch. There she slowed right down and made slow sensual circling motions with the washcloth. Paying particular attention to the tight plastic and the treasure that lay within. Must have spent fifteen minutes just on that area alone, making little jerk off motions, soaping it up, even flicking at it with her tongue. If there is a specific hell for teases she would be its rulers. If my cock had been free from its cage I think I might have exploded just from one of her tongue flicks alone. Fuck.

Mercifully she finally finished cleaning me and ended, for now, her tease session. My wrists were unbuckled from the hook in the ceiling and secured behind my back. My collar was reattached around my neck and, clipping the leash to it, she led me back out into the dungeon. It was all a bit of a blur to me now. I still hadn’t fully recovered from her little shower tease session. Let alone the damned enema. I felt her plug pushed back into my ass, firmly set in place and then the lowest of buzzes began. Must be because I’m in the dungeon I reasoned. Here and the kitchen. The only two places I’m allowed on my own. What my world boiled down to now.

I felt more rubber and latex being spread over me. Some sort of outfit. My eyes were closed though, just letting it happen. No point in resisting right now. I’d just get punished again and I really didn’t want that two days in a row.

“Want to see what your role is going to be today slave?” Her chipper little voice breathed down my back. My latex and rubber covered back. Odd. My legs felt pretty free. What the hell?

She pulled me upright from the table and marched me over to where there was a large mirror propped up against the far wall. I blinked in surprise over my gag. She had dressed me up like a maid! Like a sexy and very kinky French Maid! The outfit completely enclosed me from neck to mid thigh, the top out of rubber and the skirt out of clingy latex. A white latex apron and little frills around the entire outfit completed it. My collar remained in its pride of place, settled around my neck as a constant reminder of my owned status.

“Whaddaya think Davey?” She was folded around my right side, for all the world looking like a pleased girlfriend showing her boyfriend a new outfit she had picked out. A little surreal. Check that. Super surreal. I grunted something into my gag, feeling a little tremor of pleasure as she smiled at my response. I felt the corners of my mouth tug up a little bit and blushed. Damn it why the hell was I getting like this around her?? She had kidnapped me and done all sorts of nasty terrible things to me! I shouldn’t have frigging butterflies in my stomach every time I saw her smile!!

“Alrighty then my little maid, time for breakfast! And then you can get to work!” She snatched up my leash and headed up the stairs. I padded behind her on bare feet, for once not having some sort of fetish material between me and the floor. Felt a bit weird. Good for sure but, weird.

We reached the kitchen and she attached my leash to the arm of one of the chairs near the table, bustling about the kitchen preparing breakfast. Breakfast today turned out to be oatmeal, flavoured with maple and brown sugar. My Mistress had pretty good taste in breakfast foods at least. Hers was in a normal bowl with spoon. Mine came in a bowl with DAVEY embossed on the side of it. Hers went onto the table. Mine was placed next to her chair, on the floor.

I looked at her plaintively, a little whine at the back of my throat. She shook her head.

“Once again Davey, you’re starting back at the bottom. Today you get to eat where slaves usually eat. Once you’re out of your two days of punishment, maybe meals can be sexy syrupy fun again. For now though, you’ll eat at my feet like a good, obedient slave, and you’ll kiss my feet afterwards to show your gratitude.”

With that she unlocked my wrists from behind me and quickly relocked them in front of me. I had about six inches of chain in between the two cuffs. Next she coaxed me down to my knees and then unbuckled my gag, tossing it off to the side of the table. I looked up at her from my knees, but she just sat down, crossed her legs to point one bare foot at me, and then set to eating her own breakfast, steadfastly ignoring me. Or so it seemed to me. She was probably watching me. Or not. Hell I don’t know.

I bent down, the butt plug inside me picking that moment to pick up its intensity just a bit. She had been watching me. Using her damn plug to coax me to do the ‘right’ thing. Bitch. I bent my face to my oatmeal and began eating it as best I could, doing my best to not spill any on the floor. In that task I failed pretty quickly. Within the first minute I had oatmeal covering all around my mouth, with a little bit of it clinging determinedly to my nose, like a mountain climber with a single hand left on the cliff face.

At least the oatmeal tasted as good as it smelt.

 

As I ate my Mistress worked away on her own breakfast, with impeccable table manners. I mean, certainly in comparison to my own. She had a tablet in front of her, scrolling away at whatever she was looking at: news, funny pictures, cheesy cat photos, it could have been anything with this woman. I chanced a few glances upwards as I ate, watching her. I, on the other hand, was seemingly ignored. It might have been to put me in my place, in that a domme doesn’t pay a slave any mind, or it could have been more innocent. That she was just engrossed in whatever was going on in the world, and not the man in a kinky maid outfit, bound at her feet. Or a mix of the two. Who knew?

I finished my breakfast and then confronted a little problem. She wanted me to give her foot a kiss after I was done to thank her. But my face was pretty much covered in oatmeal around my mouth and nose. Knowing her she was going to get all outraged that I had dirtied her feet with oatmeal. On the other hand, if I didn’t do what she told me to, I’d probably get six kinds of hell beaten out of my ass. Especially since I was apparently still making up for yesterday. Which seemed pretty unfair given the extent of my torments since then, but that argument probably wouldn’t fly with my no nonsense domme. What to do, what to do? I made up my mind as her foot gave a little stretch in front of my face. Better to have to beg for forgiveness than ask permission right?

I leaned forward and planted a kiss on her outstretched foot. I felt some of the oatmeal leave my face, and heard her start to draw in a breath. I quickly bent back over her foot, frantically trying to slather up as much of the offending substance as I could. As I continued to both drip bits of oatmeal onto her foot and lick it off as fast as I could, I heard a chuckle from above me.

“Good catch slave.” I felt the unmistakable sensation of a crop tracing its way along my back and backside, “Keep going. I want every speck of oatmeal off my foot before you finish.”

“Yef Miftresf” I mumbled from around her foot.

Smack! Her crop slapped down, eliciting a yelp from me, and I bent back to licking her foot clean.

“No talking Davey, only cleaning.” She giggled as I growled from around her foot, slapping me again more lightly with the crop, “If you need some encouragement I’m happy to give it to you.” She flicked the crop along my ass again and then began tracing it up and down my back.

I whimpered a little. Maybe I should have asked for permission first.

I continued on for a while, her crop flashing out to strike my ass or the sides of my thighs whenever I slowed or appeared to think that I was done before she was satisfied. And boy, she had a much higher standard for clean than I did. I was pretty sure, at least three or four times that I had succeeded only for a sharp crack on my rear to inform me that apparently my idea of clean was deficient and required another look. I admit by the fourth time I was grumbling into her foot pretty much non-stop, which may have been way I got a few extra smacks from the crop. Finally I backed off a little bit, and didn’t receive a sharp smack on my ass. I lifted my eyes cautiously upwards to find her inspecting her bare foot with a critical eye. I sat back on my heels, awaiting her verdict.

“Well Davey, its good enough for your first time on my bare feet. Not as good as I would’ve expected given your experience worshipping my boots, but I guess we can work on that as part of your training.” She ruffled my hair with a proprietary air, “I guess it is only your second full day with me so far. But you’ve got a high standard to meet for everything now that you’re going to be my slave. I expect nothing but the best, and in return, I give you the best damn dominatrix experience you’ll ever find.” She grinned at me. I didn’t really know what to say to that in response, so I just ducked my head back down. Damned shyness.

She stood up from her chair, and gestured for me to remain there on my knees. She was out of sight for perhaps a minute, and then returned a moment later with a rather involved harness panel gag. Another green ball was attached to the inside of the panel, another effort to match my eyes to the gag I thought with some bemusement. She seemed to go back and forth between a stern fiery disciplinarian on the one hand and then on the other a playful tease who delighted in making me blush. Made my head spin a little. I was jolted out of those thoughts as the gag was firmly pushed into my mouth. I gave a little “mmph!” of surprise but she just gave a little “tsk” in response and continued to buckle the gag tightly around, over and under my head. Once everything was tightly buckled down, and the panel snugly against my face, she locked two tiny padlocks onto the buckles at the rear, ensuring that even if she left the room with me having my hands in front, I still wouldn’t be able to take the damned thing off.

With a sharp, “Up!” I scrambled upright onto my feet. She looped a finger through the ring at the front of my collar and brought my face in close to hers. Standing up, without her boots she was just slightly shorter than me. But any sense that she was physically weaker was disabused by the casual way she had been able to handle anything I had thrown at her. I was not going to tangle with this lady unless she was absolutely helpless in bondage of her own and I was free. Given my current predicament, and her effortless dominance, this did not seem likely.

“Ready to be my little maid Davey?” Her hazel eyes were alight. God she was cute when she was like this.

“Mmhm.” I muttered into my gag, a little cautious about what this was going to entail.

“Good!” She steered me over to the sink, where a small pile of dishes had been stacked on one side, all dirty. As I stood there she brought out a pair of rubber gloves and a pair of stainless steel cuffs. First she cuffed one hand to an anchoring hook that had been tucked discretely out of sight by some cookbooks. Then she unlocked the leather cuff from the free wrist, tugging the rubber glove on and then snapping and locking the steel cuff around it. Then she repeated the process with the other hand, uncuffing both cuffs, rubber glove on, and then steel cuff overtop of that.

“Now you’re all set to be my kitchen cleaner. I’ve always wanted a bound dishwasher of my very own.” She was directly behind me, pressing her body into mine, “Make sure you do a good job Davey. Impress me with your hands as much as you have with your mouth.”

I grunted in response, really what could I say to that, and then picked up the first dish. As I started to soak it in the warm soapy water her hands clasped my hips, pulling me tightly against her. I moaned into my gag, and she gave a low hum of pleasure, grinding her crotch into my ass. I gave an involuntary thrust forward, banging my cock cage against the counter, drawing a low chuckle from my Mistress.

“Does that feel good slave?” Her hands began to move now, still keeping a firm grip on me, roaming over onto my rubber covered chest.

I moaned in response. Fuck yes it did!

“Am I distracting you?” Her hands stopped. I realised I had stopped cleaning to lean back into her caress. I hurriedly reapplied myself to washing the dish in my hand. After another moment her hands resumed their progress across and around my chest. I felt her mouth on the back of my neck then. She traced the outline of her collar where it met my neck, slowly and sensually licking it all along the back of my neck. Oh God that felt sooooooo gooooooood. I frantically kept washing dishes as I slowly humped my hips forward, grinding into the counter as she grinded into me. Fuck this damned chastity cage!

“Mmmmmm.” She leaned both hands forward around me as I continued to wash, leaning into me and pressing me firmly up against the counter. “I’ve got an idea that’ll make this even hotter slave.”

“Mmmph?” My unintelligible question was answered moments later when the butt plug suddenly buzzed more fully to life, the vibrations coursing through me and, partially, into her as well.

I gave a strangled yelp and my knees nearly buckled. She held me up through the pressure of pressing me against the counter.

“Ooooh yes. That’s right you little slut. Keep cleaning. Keep cleaning and I’ll keep teasing you my sweet sub. C’mon, let’s go.”

With her encouraging me I forced myself to keep cleaning, as my little buzzing friend did everything it could to distract me from my task. Her hands never stopped roaming across my body, here pausing to squeeze my nipple, there giving my ass a firm squeeze, or every now and then pulling my head backwards by the hair, to whisper something fiery and kinky into my ear.

Sometimes it was, “You love being my little bondage slave don’t you Davey?”

Or, “God you were just made to be my little bondage bitch weren’t you?”

Or, “Mmm, aren’t you glad I stole you away? Vanilla life is so humdrum. Here you get to live in a kinky paradise with a Mistress who will train you to be the best damn slave ever. Lucky you huh?”

I would moan in response

Sometimes it was, “Since you like ass play so much, maybe while you’re still in chastity I’ll bend you over and show you my strap on. Would you like that?”

Or, “Maybe I’ll dress you up as a little rubber pony boy and have you run me over to a friend’s place hmm? Would you like to be my little pony boy?”

Or, “Once you’re better trained maybe I’ll take you to a fetish convention as my slave? Imagine walking around in public, completely bound in rubber and leather, with no one knowing that I’ve kidnapped you. God that would be hot.”

I would whimper in response to those ones, though some, particularly being taken to a fetish convention as her slave, kind of enticed me.

Or sometimes it was,

“Maybe once you’re finished your training I’ll send that video I’ve made to that cute little roommate of yours hmm? From her browsing habits I’d say she’s about as kinky as you are, maybe even more so. See what she thinks of it.”

Or, “You would not believe how easy it is to completely invade someone’s online life. Well, I guess you do now don’t you Davey. Honestly this was probably the best case result for someone like you. So open. So naïve on the Internet. Now you get to spend your life as my little bondage slut. Good ending right?” I could feel her grin after that.

I groaned after those. Bring my roommate into this? God, talk about fantasy fulfillment there. She couldn’t be serious about something like that though right? Right? As for this being the best case scenario, well. Bitch.

All in all it was the hottest bit of domestic work I’d ever done in my life. Doing dishes with my Mistress…well I’ll never look at doing menial housework quite the same way again. Though I doubt she’ll let me look at it as anything approaching normal while I’m wearing her collar.

Somehow I managed to make it through the entire experience, clean all the dishes, without dropping a single one. Despite all of her very, very, pleasurable distractions and whispered kinky delights, I managed to make it through. My reward for all this?

She spun me around and gave me a firm kiss into the panel of my gag. I moaned deeply, my hands held tightly in front of me by one of hers, the other wrapped around the back of my head. It was, as with everything with her, a controlling stance. Making it clear to me that I had no control over this kiss. I felt the vibrations in my rear slowly ease down throughout the kiss, back to the normal kitchen level she had demonstrated for me yesterday.

“Mmmmmm” She pulled away and gave me a delighted little grin, “Well I had a good time cleaning dishes Davey, how about you?”

“MMMMhm!” I nodded enthusiastically.

“Good boy. As a reward I’m going to duck out to the store and pick us up some ice cream. A little treat for you. While I’m gone, I want you to finish cleaning up the kitchen. When I come back, if you’ve done a good job, we’ll find some interesting ways to eat our ice cream together hmm?” She gribbed the ring at the front of my collar and gave it a little shake, “Sound good slave?”

“Yef Miftref!” I garbled into my gag, nodding again.

“Now remember what you learned yesterday about my security system?”

I gave a nervous nod. I did not want a repeat of that at all.

She gave my cheek a pat, “I’m just reminding you Davey. It’s going to be on while I’m gone. Behave, complete your tasks, and you won’t have a problem. Just don’t think, even for a second, that I was kidding about how potent it gets if you set one toe outside.”

I nodded emphatically. I was not going to put a toe out of line now that we were slowly circling back to normality. Well, as normal as I was probably going to get with my Mistress.

“Good boy.” She fiddled with her control fob and then showed me the indicator. It was armed. She tucked the fob away and then gave my ass cheeks a final squeeze, “Ta ta for now then Davey. I’ll be back with some tasty treats soon!”

I watched her walk out of the room and, a minute later, the slam of the front door. With that I was left alone in her house, my prison. For the tiniest moment I felt the familiar urge to run, but I squashed it brutally in my mind. Then jumped up and down on it for good measure before burying it deep, deep down. I’d had enough damn punishment from the bitch queen for now thank you very much brain. I’d like to stay in the realm of the teasing, playful domme as long as I can thank you very much. The cough and roar of her engine starting up and beginning to pull away from the house startled me out of my little self-reflection and focused back on the task at hand. Let’s see. What to start with…

I decided clear away the now clean dishes and generally clean up the counter space. She had left me cuffed up in the rubber cleaning gloves, which were still slick from the washing. This entailed a bit more precision and care than I would have otherwise needed, but I managed to get everything back in its place, after searching around in the cupboards and cabinets to find the appropriate place first. In a quick ten minutes all the counters were clean, and every dish in its place. I turned back to assess the kitchen, getting a little shiver up my spine as my movement made the plug shift around inside me. She kept a pretty tidy kitchen already, so there wasn’t a huge amount left after the dishes were away and the counters cleaned. I suppose sweep the floor, put the bondage equipment back in the dungeon, and take the kitchen garbage to the backdoor where the main bin was.

I found a broom and began my work. It had never really occurred to me just how sexy housework could become, but here I was, dressed up as a fetish French Maid, bound, collared and gagged. Sweeping away at a dominatrix’s floor, a domme who had kidnapped me from my home and told me she was going to keep me as her personal bondage slave forever. Two days ago I had been looking forward to a lazy and fairly uneventful summer. Now…well now I was slated to be this woman’s property for a good deal longer than that. And no one would really be looking for me until school started back up again. And even then, my roommate was the only one who really knew me best. Unless she actually sounded the alarm over my absence no one would really think I’d been kidnapped. And, difficult to believe as it might be, I was fairly sure my Mistress had a devious plan or two bubbling away in her mind about how to prevent anything like that from happening.

That delightful train of thought took me through the rest of the sweeping up. I rubbed at my caged cock which, with a double layer of rubber and latex plus the chastity cage, didn’t do anything but frustrate me even further. Calm down. Focus. Almost done. Play with it once I’m done, otherwise the bitch queen will make another appearance.

I moved over to the counter, the chain between my ankle cuffs making a slithering metallic sound as I shuffled across the floor. I reached the sink and bent down, letting out a loud moan into my gag as the plug moved around in interesting ways inside me. I managed to get the cupboards open, and then dragged the small, but still slightly heavy, kitchen garbage can out from under it. I straightened up and began walking towards the back door. The butt plug’s intensity went up a little bit, warning me that I shouldn’t be going much further than I was right now. But it wold be alright. I was just going to get this over by the main one so that Mistress could—

My dragging foot chain caught on something. For a fraction of a second before it released, but it was enough. My momentum sent me stumbling wildly forward, the sealed garbage canister bouncing away from me. Thank God for that seal, I thought absently. Then I crashed to the ground and slid. Slid right into the backdoor, hitting it with a resounding thump. And with that, my butt plug suddenly exploded.

“GGGGAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” I screamed into my gag as the plug went wild. The intensity was ramped up so frigging high I could feel my ass shaking along with it. It felt like my whole body was just spasming along in time with the pulsing vibrations. The sensations kept me pined to the floor against the backdoor. I couldn’t move. How could I move with this fucking device in my rear?!? How the hell? How can I…Faaarrrggllrrhhh….how can I turn this damn thing…GAAAAAHHHH….off??

Then I remembered. Through the blinding haze of pure sensation coming from my rear, my Mistress’ words came flowing back into my head. If I triggered the escape protocol…the cage! I had to get to the damn cage!!

I reached out my arms, blindly at first, not wanting to have to open my eyes, and felt back in th direction of the dungeon door. There was nothing for it. I needed to see. I opened my eyes, tears from the intensity of the vibrations streaking my face. I spotted the half opened portal and began crawling towards it, using my arms to pull the rest of my body behind me. It was slow, painfully slow, progress that I made. Maybe every two or three pulls that I made a spasm would overcome me, and I would be wracked with overwhelming pleasure from my butt plug. My cock was rock hard during the entire journey from the back door to the steps leading down to the dungeon, straining against its plastic cage. Fuck she hadn’t been kidding about the damned escape protocol. I’m back in the damn kitchen, heading down to the basement, and the frigging thing wasn’t letting up at all!

At the top of the stairs I gritted my teeth and tried to stand. After three attempts, each ending in jelly kneed failure, I decided on a different tactic. I turned myself around, legs splayed out and pointing downwards into the basement. Holding the bannister tightly I began feeding myself downwards along it. It worked pretty well about two thirds of the way, but then a particularly powerful pulse coursed through me and my grip failed. My spasming body crashed down the final few stairs, adding what would be some tender bruises to my collection of hurts. Fuck. This. Damn. Plug. Gaaaaaaaaaaah.

From a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs I resolutely pushed myself onwards. I was in the dungeon again. My home space. I was in the home stretch! Just need to get to the cage. Get to the cage and lock it shut. Get to the cage. Get to the cage. Those four words became my mantra as I slid myself across the dungeon floor, inch by inch. As I neared the cage the vibrations began a series of pulses, strengthening further anytime I paused to catch my breath. I managed to move to within two feet of the cage and, mercifully, the butt plug finally acknowledged that I was doing the right thing. The pulses ebbed in strength. Just for one glorious moment they went back to something like when I had tried my initial escape attempt. Hah! And here I had thought that was bad. That was nothing compared with what I had just frigging suffered through!

With the last bit of my strength I jerked the lock free from its clasp point and yanked the cage door to the side, practically diving inside. Into my sanctuary. I slammed it shut behind me and, my rubber gloved hands shuddering as the pulses revved back up, clicked the lock into place. Just like that the butt plug suddenly died completely. Well, almost completely. It had seemed stationary after the intensity it had been at, but now it just gurgled along in my rear, buzzing at the ‘good slave’ level that she had shown me, and I had felt until quite recently while working in the kitchen. I was in heaven. I was being good. I wasn’t trying to escape. Thank God this cage thing worked.

I curled up into a ball, nursing my bruised limbs, and tried to get some rest. Actual sleep eluded me, but I drifted in and out of that lovely state I had maintained each night I had spent in the cage here. Some sort of nebulous spot in between wakefulness and actual sleep, fueled by chastity frustration, butt plug vibrations, and my by now rampant sexual imagination. It helped to pass the time. Or at least, I was less aware of time passing. And thus, I wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed before I heard the click clack of my Mistress’ heels descending the stairs. I roused myself, crouching up on all fours as she swept into the dungeon. I couldn’t read her facial expression very well, she kept her face studiously blank. Shit. Does she think I tried to escape again? No, no, no, please God don’t send the bitch queen back to me. It was an accident! She has to realize that!

She halted in front of the cage. In one hand she held her cell phone, screen facing away from me. In the other hand, the fob that controlled my plug. She crouched down in front of the cage, her eyes boring in to my own, and gave the cell phone a little shake.

“What do you know slave. No sooner am I at the store than I get a notification from my little security system that there was an attempted escape. What do you have to say for yourself?”

I gabbled into my gag, desperately trying to make her understand. It hadn’t been me! I had just tripped! Please don’t punish me again! The stupid, damned system doesn’t understand accidents! All manner of muffled noises pouring forth from my throat and mouth, all directed at the woman in front of me, my Mistress. Hoping against hope that something, anything, would be able to break through to her and make her understand I hadn’t done anything wrong!

“I see.” She tucked the fob away, and tapped her phone a couple of times. She flipped the screen around so that it was facing me, “Fortunately for you my security system includes video throughout every room in this house. I, unlike my system, can see when an incident is an accident and not an escape attempt.”

I saw myself played back as I carried the garbage bin, then as I tumbled to the ground, then hit the back door, and then began spasming and crawling to the dungeon. I whimpered into my gag, remembering the intense sensations that had reached out to every part of my body. Turning me into one gigantic nerve ending it seemed like at the time. As I watched myself crawl out of view she flicked the screen off and placed the phone down next to the cage. Then she reached a hand in to stroke my head. I moaned in gratitude at the understanding touch, thrusting my head into her palm, delighting in human contact after my ordeal.

“Aww my poor little sub. I told you that escape protocol was a bitch didn’t I? Poor little Davey.”