For perhaps the first time in my life, I really, truly felt like I had stepped outside of time.

I knew, factually, that Eliza had dressed me up in heavy rubber, strapped me down in bondage to a bed, and then flipped some sort of switch to start the white noise that was still ongoing around my ears. I knew this.

What I did not know, was when. When had she done this? The experience of her touch, of outside air kissing my skin, of her voice, all of these things had happened. But they were fuzzy in my mind now. Had I been bound to this bed, in isolation, for an hour? Two? Ten? I couldn't tell. I couldn't move. I could feel nothing save the tight embrace of rubber all around me. I couldn't speak, hell I couldn't even tell when i tried apart from a humming sort of vibration in my chest. The white noise pouring into my ears, and the crushingly secure embrace of the thick hood, cut off the world. 

And, for perhaps the first time since Eliza had snatched me, I was lying in bondage with no stimulation. No vibrations, no crotch ropes, no purring voice in my ears. It felt...weird. Peaceful in a way, I suppose. Here I was, about as isolated as I could be, with not a care in the world at the moment. I was confident that she was still watching me, to ensure nothing went wrong. Eliza just would not be Eliza without that part of her that, well, cared. That had been, and still was, so fiercely protective of me. I gave a happy hum at the thought. Felt it in my chest at least, though my ears told me otherwise. Weirdly, I felt more definitively safe, in bondage, in her dungeon, than I think I ever had just walking about in the world. Security and safety. Brought to me by my kidnapper. I felt my eyes crinkle a little as a mute chuckle escaped me.

Oh certainly, I was positive I would be paying for losing control like that. Probably hadn't been in my Mistress' plan to have me cum on the bloody ceiling. But that was future David's problem. He could deal with the stern discipline that Eliza would bring.

I meanwhile, could just...float...float...float away...

Some unknowable amount of time later I felt consciousness sharpening again. I tried, for perhaps the thousandth time, to flex and move in my bonds. This did little good, apart from waking up my muscles again and giving them what little of a stretch I could manage. I moaned, though I barely heard myself, as my brief struggle shifted the dildo inside my rear. I had almost forgotten its presence. It was, I thought a little ruefully, the perfect torment for isolation. No vibrations emanated from it, and its stillness provided little stimulation. But with it inside me I could never, ever forget that someone owned me. That I was not just floating in space on my own, but that a certain domineering, terrifying, wonderful lady had done this to me. A silent reminder of my life.

I tried again to move around, this time trying to shift my head as well rather than staring, sightless, ahead at what I presumed was still the ceiling.The thick posture collar around my neck was having none of that though. It was stiff enough that it reminded me of something you might place around a spinal injury victim. Imagine the commercial: This piece of kit is excellent for spinal injuries, or bondage slaves who misbehave. I felt myself give a soft snort and chuckle at the meandering of my thoughts. I always did have a tendency to wander down odd mental paths. Especially when left to my own devices like this.

I settle into my bondage, taking a moment or two to just glory in the sensation of rubber around me. The leather of the hood was such a familiar companion to me at this point that it was near enough to sleeping with a security blanket. I had enjoyed the thought, and the feel, of bondage hoods before. Eliza though...she had turned that enjoyment up to eleven. Especially as she seemed to have God only knew how many of the things herself. And someone to finally try them all out on, with all the time in the world to do it. I felt the corners of my mouth give a slight upward twitch at the thought. All they could do really with my mouth wrenched open and filled to just about its maximal extent by the gag. But, discomfort or not, any time my wandering thoughts turned back to her, I found little imperceptible knots loosening. Physically and mentally.

Odd? Sure. But bondage isolation kinda helps encourage odd mental tracks for one to skip merrily down. For me, it seems my mind enjoyed looping back around, every so often, to Eliza. My gorgeous, protective, and still thoroughly scary Mistress. How anyone ever thought she was someone to be messed about was beyond me. Though I suppose, with her having kidnapped and enslaved me, I had a slightly more intimate view of her than most. Another twitch of my stretched lips. Another mute chuckle. And another fading away.

Some other period of time later I slowly swam upwards from an odd half-conscious dream. Had that been...a touch? Was she back? I tried to arch my back, to thrust my chest out at the unseen presence near me. I felt that my mind might be playing tricks on me, so light and feathery any outside touches seemed to me. But then...Then! A definite touch, tracing the faint outline of my jaw through the leather of the hood. That was firm enough for me to feel.

I moaned into my gag, loud enough that she might even have heard it, and tried to nuzzle into her hand. But the posture collar and other bonds held me tight. Held me immobile so that she could touch and caress me as she pleased. No acting out or taking the initiative for me whilst I was bound on this bed in this way. Utterly, and totally helpless. I moaned again, the noise lost amidst the interference in my ears.

I felt myself twitch against the chastity cage. After so long in isolation, I had been maintaining some level of arousal, but at a level that did not discomfort me by pressing against the cage. That...had partially ended. I groaned into my gag, and struggled against my bondage now.

Then, with little warning, the white noise that had blocked me from the world suddenly dropped away to a purr before cutting out entirely. I took a deep shuddering breath, and then,

"Mmmmhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm."

"Have you gotten yourself under control, slave?" Her voice was still muffled by the hood and padding, but understandable enough.

"Mmmm!" I gave what I hope was a suitably chastened and pitiful grunt and nod. I dimly felt her hand trail possessively across my face and under my jaw. I shivered a little at this, her effortless dominance. Future David's problems were rapidly approaching. The stray thought made me snort a slight chuckle, though I'm not certain Eliza heard it.

I felt the bands around my legs begin to loosen, and immediately stopped my half-hearted struggles against them. The last thing I wanted was to irritate her by getting in the way. This was, after all, dungeon day. Dominatrix Eliza was going to be slightly less understanding of any cutesy shenanigans that I decided to deliver. Especially as I was still to pay for my poor showing earlier.

A sudden slap on my rubber clad thigh made me jump in my bonds, more out of surprise than hurt. I whimpered into my gag at her actions, and I thought I heard a faint giggle. I dismissed that possibility out of hand. I had clearly been in isolation for long enough that I was hearing things. Dominatrix Eliza did not giggle. After a few moments of stillness I felt her hands return to undoing the buckled restraints around my legs, finally freeing them entirely.

I surreptitiously stretched my legs while she worked on freeing my arms, flexing them in the thick rubber. After who knew how long, the small movement felt heavenly. 

"Up!" The command came as soon as the final restraint holding me to the bed was unbuckled. I scrambled upright, moving stiffly after so long immobile, and staggered off the bed. I stood, legs spaced out appropriately, with my arms twitching next to my sides. Was I supposed to...?

"Hold still." She muttered, stepping in close. I felt her fiddle with something in front of me and then, blessedly, the gag began to deflate in my mouth. As it did so I took the opportunity to flex my jaw, letting out a soft moan as I did so. But that was it. No words to get me in trouble. Which seemed to be the right choice as she continued to undo and unlace the thick hood and posture collar keeping my head on lockdown. The moment the posture collar came off I let out a long and heartfelt moan of relief. I imagined her grinning at me over that, but didn't care. God that felt good. The remainder of the suit swiftly followed, stripped off in an efficient though still fairly gentle manner. I felt the weight of it leave me, to be tossed off and crumple near the bed. I mentally grumbled at this, knowing which of us would be tasked with cleaning up the dungeon, but carefully did not let that particular emotion show.

She carried through, loosening the hood enough that she could finally pull the entire thing off my head. I felt it come free and took in a deep breath of air. The light of the dungeon, though low, was still enough to set me to blinking away. Half-blinded by the light, it took me a moment to focus in on my Mistress, standing there in front of me. Her eyes swept across me for a moment, and then traced gently up to my own. I felt a quiver run through me as I took her in, still dressed in her punk domme outfit. Like some kinky deranged biker chick had decided to make off with me. 

I felt my lips twitch at that thought, then stilled my face as her eyebrow rose.

"Something amuses you, slave?" Her hands were on her hips now, making her leather jacket flare out and...Gaaaaah. This damnable cage!

I managed to groan out a, "No Mistress." But I couldn't help my eyes repeatedly darting over her. Which got noticed.

"If you spurt all over me I'm going to put you back in isolation until this time tomorrow."Her voice was calmly informative. There would be no protesting or imagining this an empty threat. It simply would be.

I drew in a shuddering breath, and held it for a moment. Willing myself to be calm. Calm. Calm. I felt her hand trace its way across my bare chest and shoulders, feeling my muscles tighten as it passed over them. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths as she continued to run her hand along. Her fingertips brushed the outline and contours of my stomach, and my breathing went ragged for a few moments. The cool embrace of leather around my neck gave me something to focus on as she rebuckled and locked my collar around my neck.

Calm. I had to be calm.

She grabbed my caged cock.

My eyes bugged open to find her own staring at me. Daring me to do anything apart from stand perfectly still and allow her to fondle me. Her property. I trembled at that thought, and resolutely stood still. Her hands squeezed and groped, while her eyes never left mine. It was the casual display of her power over me, her ownership of me that, even after all this time, still made my breath catch in my throat. I bit back moan after moan, desperately trying to stay silent. All I wanted to do was moan and gasp and plead with her for more, but I obeyed the unspoken command in her eyes, and stayed quiet.

"Well at least you haven't completely forgotten." She said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, "Now then." She kept her hand firmly gripping me. The other came up to take my chin in it, making me meet her eyes, "I think we need to review some of the basics as part of this dungeon day. You seem to have forgotten the most basic rule. I own this." She gave my caged member a squeeze. "I decide when you get to cum. Corporal position!"

I gave a soft, barely audible whimper, but didn't hesitate. I scurried across the room to where a large solid frame had been set up, with cuffs dangling from various tie down points. Shaking a little, I looped my hands up and through two of them, buckling each with some difficulty, letting my arms hang at roughly shoulder level. There I was left for a time. There was no immediate attack upon me, with whatever floggers or so forth she had at her disposal. Just a long, suspenseful silence. It ate at me, as I stood there, not able to see behind me. Not able to determine what devious plans she was concocting for my punishment. I gripped the chains holding my cuffs to stop myself from trembling further, and slowly, allowed my head to droop downwards.

After some time had passed, I felt a change. There was a stillness behind me, one that spoke of her attention. I stilled my shaking. Then, a few moments later, my arms were suddenly jerked upwards.

I squeaked in surprise. Then I gave a low moan as I felt the head of her crop trace along my buttocks, and the backs of my upper thighs. The crop retreated for a moment, and then I felt her. She pressed up against me, the leather of her outfit sending shivers of desire, dread, and other half formed feelings coursing through me. I moaned again as she took my chin in her hand and bent my head back so that I was looking towards the ceiling. She took part of my ear in her mouth and gave it a tug with her teeth. I whimpered, but held still.

"Now then," her voice was a cool whisper in my ear. My cage seemed even tighter, and I felt her grin at my renewed whimpering, "I'll give you a choice of your punishment slave." Even without a gag I knew enough not to put any objections to this into words. Instead, I just allowed my whimpering to trail off. Forcing me to choose my own punishment? Now whatever followed wasn't something imposed for loosing control, for not knowing about the bloody stock market (and really, who could be bothered to pay attention to that?!). Now I was going to be responsible for my own punishment too. I felt my cheeks heating, and moaned yet again as she nibbled at my neck, just above my collar. Gah! This woman.

The hand that was not cupped under and gripping my chin trailed down to rest on my hip, "A choice. We can proceed directly to an extended session of corporal discipline. I'll run you through a gamut of my favourite implements, after which cumming is going to be the furthest thing from what's left of your mind. You may beg me to put you back in isolation, after I'm through with this delicious bum of yours." She gripped my rear, and I felt her grin wolfishly as I whimpered, her teeth worrying at my ear for a few moments again, "Or..."

She trailed off, letting me stew for a moment, "Or...we can try something a little more...corrective." I tried to turn my head to look at her, but her grip was unyielding and forced me back up at the ceiling, "No peeking slave, only a single decision from you. Will you jump with me into the unknown?"

I worked my jaw, the last phrase laden to me with all sorts of imprecations. Follow her into the unknown? My lips quirked for a moment. That rather summed up my entire experience with her, from the moment she had snatched me from my old home. I took a breath. Despite knowing that this unknown choice could be so much worse than a straight forward discipline session, I found I couldn't not choose it. Some of her adventurous spirit had infected me. Or perhaps I wanted to show her that I appreciated the clever methods she used to keep me in line, and play with me. Maybe both.

"I...I choose the...the unknown, Mistress." My words were soft, uncertain. I always seemed to be that way, around her. Vulnerable. I shivered a little, and then pressed myself backwards into her.

She gave my rear an approving squeeze with her hand, "Good boy." I felt my arms lower back down to my shoulder level. My wrist restraints were swiftly disposed with, leaving me once again in only my collar and cock cage. I shifted uncertainly, but a warning touch told me to remain exactly in place, facing away from her.

"Open." I dutifully opened my mouth, and a gag was inserted. A plug extended into my mouth, effectively filling it, while the front of it protruded out a little farther than normal. I felt her hands about my head, efficiently buckling all the snaps into place, and removing all possible slack. I grunted into the gag. So far, so normal. She patted my head when she was done, and then touched my shoulder.

Needing no additional prompting I brought my hands behind my back, loosely holding them together. She took hold of them, and folded them over one another. I breathed a silent sigh of gratitude as leather began to enfold them. A boxtie armbinder was faaaaar less strenuous than I thought would happen, and I flexed my bound arms as she finished looping straps up and over my shoulders and around my chest and stomach. All buckled in and secure. Once more, helpless before her. I grinned underneath my gag at myself. That was a borderline happy thought from me now, rather than the resentful and terrified one it would have been when she first took me. Her hand pressed me forward now, bending at the waist. With a gag in, I felt myself free to moan and groan as my security plug was once more pressed inside me, filling the void that the larger isolation plug had left. Though the enjoyableness was tempered by the increasingly uncomfortable pressure around my caged cock, and I whimpered a little as it increased even further.

"Awwww. Someone missed his companion did he?" Her words, and accompanying chuckle, made my face flame red. I mumbled something into my gag, and she kissed my neck, which halted any embarrassment I might have been headed towards in a wave of tingling pleasure. I gabbled something into my gag, and she brought her mouth back to my ear, "Ready to get started?"

I gave a hesitant nod. 

"Turn around."

I came about, to find her standing there, grinning at me. Her arms planted on her hips, one hand holding a dangling leash. The confident pose, her grin, and her outfit, would have just about had me twitching and moaning all over again had I not been in trouble. As it was I let out an appreciative moan, my eyes flicking over her. She gave me a few moments to truly appreciate her look, and then snapped the leash to my collar.

"Let's go to class Davey."

She led me off to another part of the dungeon, where a mid sized desk had been set up, along with a chair and a whiteboard in front of it. She brought me to a halt in front of the small set up, and then brandished a marker in front of me, "Hold still."

Oh bloody hell. I was writing lines??

I grumbled into my gag as she began screwing the marker into the protruding part of my gag. Without missing a beat she reached around and gave my rear a pair of warning spanks.

"Mmmmph!"

"I gave you the choice slave, so don't start bitching about it now." She finished, and I could see the marker protruding from my face now, much like a reduced cock gag would have. I rolled my shoulders a little in preparation, and then looked to Eliza. She settled herself onto the desk, leaning against it and looking at me. That damnably cute grin still playing about her lips.

"So. You will be writing lines for me. We will start with the phrase, 'I will not cum without my Mistress' permission.' I think...fifty lines ought to do it for that particular one." I looked at the white board and moaned. There was no way fifty lines would fit onto there in one go. Maybe if I was doing this by hand, but...

"You should be able to fit ten lines at least, maybe more." She clearly realized my muted objection for what it was, "Regardless, you will do this in multiples of ten. Once you complete the first phrase, we shall reinforce some other elements whilst I have you in class." Her grin widened for a moment as I looked plaintively at her. God she was hot when she got devious.

"Oh," She gave a little shake of her head as though just remembering something, "one more thing. You have ten minutes to complete the fifty lines. They must be done legibly. For every line that I cannot read, or that you don't get to..." she patted the desk, "That will be a spank from your teacher while you are bent over my desk."

I shivered, feeling additional pressure down below, and moaned into my gag. Eliza just laughed and then gestured me to approach the board.

"Ready?"

I squared my shoulders, trying to look confident, and probably failing. Rather hard to look like you had this sort of challenge under control when bound, gagged, and collared, but I gave it a shot. Eliza's eyes were dancing about, though whether it was enjoyment of my predicament, or amusement at me, I couldn't tell.

"Go."

I leaned forward and began to write. The first sentence was my effort to work out how to do this properly, and the words were a little shaky as I couldn't' hold still very well. The next couple were better, and I huffed to myself through the gag as I finished them. This was easier than any sort of other punishment she had given me. Hell this was a bit like kitchen dut--

I suddenly felt my plug roar up to life inside my rear, vibrating away. If I had been holding the marker in my mouth I would have dropped it. As it was, I rose up to my tiptoes in surprise and let out a loud, plaintive moan. I rocked back onto my heels, my arms struggling inside their leather prison, my eyes rolling about in my head. Oh, Ooooh, OOooooooooo.

I felt her then, a hand brushing my arm, another trailing over my probably vibrating ass cheeks. As the vibrations slowed just a little, I felt her lips brush my ear, "Didn't think I was going to be that easy on you, did you?"

"MMmmmmmmmmaaaaaffff," I moaned into my gag, pressing my shoulders and head back into her. I just wanted...I wanted...

"Better get to writing slave, or I'll have you bent over my desk for the next little while." I could hear the bloody smile in her voice, "Although...maybe you'll enjoy that more than just writing." Her hands clutched at me, and I moaned again.

With an effort of will I managed to pull myself forward, back towards the board. She followed me, not letting go of my bound arms, nor of my butt, which she took great pleasure in groping at while I tried to steady myself. The next couple of lines I wrote were worse than the first. Still legible, I thought, but definitely more on the squiggly side. I was moaning just about non stop into my gag as my plug continued its dancing assault on my rear, keeping me on edge but refraining from the sorts of vibration that would have halted me completely. For Eliza, she was content to rub, and grope, but seemed willing to allow me to continue without too much interruption.

I finished the first ten lines. Eliza settled her chin at the crook of my shoulder and neck to examine the board, "One spank for you slave, number eight is just atrocious English. Honestly, you should be a better scribbler given your studies."

I rolled my eyes and moaned. She efficiently wiped the board clean, pressing me up close to it so she could work without releasing her hold on me. That done she settled both of us back, "Do continue, little Davey." She nibbled at the back of my neck, and I just about buckled right then and there. But I couldn't. I had to do this. I damn sure didn't want to be bent over that desk for the next hour.

So I redoubled my efforts. And Eliza did as well. Every time I bent down to write, the butt plug would begin vibrating in a different pattern, which changed to a steady buzz whenever I backed away from the board. Damnable thing. She remained wrapped around me for the most part, though sometimes she broke away to get a look at me, or at my work. Never for long though. And whenever she was on me, she was all over me. Her hands stroked, and pinched, and groped, and teased. So much so that if I wasn't wearing my cock cage I'm pretty sure I could've made it just with her ministrations and the plug. She was that bloody good. 

Add in the sultry whispers into my ears, of what she was going to do to me. Of the games she had planned, perhaps for today, perhaps for another, perhaps even for next week. Of the torments she had thought up, contests to determine how much punishment I was to receive. For, as she whispered while I completed the final line of another ten, "Your punishments are only ever as bad as you make them slave." I gave some gagged objections to that, and she gave me another few standing spanks to concentrate my mind. And the whispered ideas continued, stoking my fires.

"Time's up." For a moment the breathy whisper into my ear didn't register. But the pressure on my collar, pulling me back from the board, broke through to me. I stood there, panting into my gag. My eyes wide and fixed on Eliza as she came around to stand in front of me. She looked at the board, tapping her lip with one solitary finger. The figure she cut there, in all her leather-decked glory only increased the ache I felt. Oh hell. This was impossible.

"Seems like someone just wants to get spanked hmm?" She turned to me with a grin, "Over the desk, slave."

It was an effort to turn away from her, but I did it. I lowered myself onto the desk, my legs out to either side. I felt her boot edge them even further out, ensuring I was lying flat against the desk. I felt her hand, now re-contained within her leather glove, rub at first one cheek, and then the other. "I want you to count for me slave. Clearly."

I moaned into my gag, "Bfff mmmaaa  aagggg Miftressffhh"

"You're an intelligent young man slave, I'm certain you can figure it out."

Spank.

I yelped into my gag, "uunnnn Miftressfh."

"What was that?"

Spank.

I let out a frutrated grunt, "Uuuoonne Miftresf!"

"Better. Now, I believe you owe me...twenty of the best." I moaned at that, and I heard her chuckle behind me, "Just remember slave, you messed up your own dungeon day by not having enough control. That is one of the most important things I expect from you as my slave. Control and self-discipline."

I nodded, and then gave a yelp as her hand landed on me again, "Fffwwooo Miftresffh!"

"Good boy."

She carried on, delivering the spanking with relish. After each blow she would spend some time rubbing at my rear, feeling the vibrations course into her from the plug within me. And remind me of this or that element of her training. Mostly though, it centered upon the importance of self-control. Of making certain I wasn't wasting myself. Because I was her toy. Her slave. And it was not for me to do that sort of thing. My panting breathing was ragged by the time we were done. Her words, her discipline...I just wanted her at this point. When she pulled me back up, she got a good look at my face. And grinned.

"Is someone wanting to go again?" My face, already flushed, tinged possibly just a slightly bit more red as I firmly nodded. She smiled, "We still have a half dozen more phrases to get through little one. But, perhaps once we do that, and I get you fed, we'll have time for that. If you impress me enough with your line writing."

More lines followed. More phrases that made me flush as I wrote them, or shiver in my bondage.

"Mistress Eliza owns me. I am her slave." "I am a bondage slut for my Mistress." And on, and on they went. She would pick some activity that I had enjoyed at BondCon and then make me write over and over again that I had loved it. That I wanted it again. My face was blazing, burning scarlet after a while, as I was forced to admit in writing, over and over again, my love of kinky and bondage-y things. Even so, even though I felt embarrassment coursing through me with each new line, I felt oddly secure. Certainly more able to write out these sorts of admissions, than I ever would be to speak them. There was a certain freedom in words.

I don't know how long exactly I was kept at my line-writing, but eventually Eliza pronounced herself satisfied. I was frogmarched over to the small dungeon eating area, where my slave bowl of food awaited me. Still at the tail end of punishment mode, I had to beg for each bite, and then kiss her boots in gratitude. I felt like my cock cage was going to explode the entire time. There was just something about being completely naked apart from my restraints, looking up at this biker goddess dressed in leather, begging for her favour, that got me going. From the way she was smiling all through the meal, she clearly knew where my mind was at. Eventually though, I finished my meal and, after giving her boots repeated kisses of thanks, I edged myself forward and cautiously laid my head down in her lap.

For a moment I thought she was going to snap another order at me, that we still weren't done with punishments. Instead, her hands settled onto me, one on my head, the other lightly stroking my collar and neck.

"That's my good boy." Her hand stroked my collar, "My good boy."

I snuggled my head into her lap, a happy sort of squeak coming unbidden out of me, "Yours, Mistress."

We stayed just like that for a time. I was quite happy to stay there for the rest of the day, with my head in Eliza's lap. It was a peaceful sort of existence, and I enjoyed every possible moment of it. I squirmed a little. Who would've guessed that this was where we would end up, all those days and weeks ago when Eliza first bundled my poor kidnapped butt into this dungeon and then into my cage. The terror, and anger of those first few days and weeks was pretty much gone now. Replaced by...other feelings. I burrowed my face deeper into her lap at the direction of my thoughts. Other feelings indeed.

Then I felt her finger curve under my chin and lift my head from her lap. I gave a disappointed sort of grumble, but it was softly done. As my head came up I found her waiting for me, her eyes actually seeming to twinkle at me. I found myself giving her a shy smile of my own in return, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Ready to keep going with dungeon day, Davey?"

I was hers. I flushed at her gaze.

"Yes Mistress."