Looking to earn a bit of extra money? Psychological Study Volunteers are required! Inquire at the number below:

I read the flyer again. I was standing outside one of the main study halls near my dorm, the warm autumn sun dappling its rays through the overhanging trees. I shifted my bag onto a single shoulder and considered. A pyschological study wasn't exactly my idea of a fun time, but my summer job hadn't really left me with all that much money after paying off my schooling costs.

I ran a hand through nut brown hair that was getting a bit on the shaggy side, and then snatched one of the tearaway numbers off the paper before I changed my mind. I meandered away from the board, punching the number into my phone, and muttering to myself about really really needing to find some sort of actual employment so I wouldn't have to do stuff like this. You would have thought that with one final year of school left to go I would've managed to find decent work last summer. But my luck had run bad, and nothing apart from the most basic positions had been available. Which brought me back to the phone.

The phone rang a single time before it was picked up and a smooth sounding female voice on the other end greeted me. I swallowed a little and managed, "Hi, um, I saw an advert-"

"Ah yes, the advertised study. We are intaking our volunteers tomorrow morning. Would you be available for our 0900 group?" the cool voice snapped out the words efficiently.

I blinked, taken aback for a moment at the crisp no-nonsense approach. Not something most university related groups tended to do. I had expected some beating around the bush, some vaguness about...

"This is paid right?" I asked, "Like, decently paid?"

"All of your needs will be seen too. You will be appropriately compensated for your time, sir." I rolled my eyes. Just like these types to be vague on that aspect of it. I mentally noted to follow up on the whole pay thing. Maybe they would be more reasonable and specific in person.

"May I have your name? For our sign in purposes."

"Uh, yes, sorry. Liam. Uh, Collins." I flushed a little, happy they couldn't see me through the phone. Bloody hell, I was the one offering to give them a hand, no need to be embarrassed.

"Excellent, Liam. We shall see you tomorrow then. Nine sharp." The line went dead.


The next day I found myself hurrying along the footpaths of the university, wending my way towards the crouching bulk of the psych department building. It was a cooler morning, and I had elected to go with a long sleeved rugby shirt and jeans. With no idea how formal I was meant to be, it seemed the safest bet. Clutching the flyer that I had taken with me yesterday, I made it to the building and found my way inside.

The halls were rather silent, really most classes were unlikely to be starting soon. Those that were or had were likewise unlikely to be well attended. I saw a handful of people in the halls as I looked around, finally locating a taped up sheet pointing me in the right direction. The right direction took me eventually to a door on the third level of the building, which opened into a small waiting room. An almost empty waiting room. A single desk faced the door, behind which a no-nonsense librarian looking lady was seated. She looked up as I entered and gave me a small polite smile, beckoning me forward,

"Name please?" This was the lady from the phone. I gave it to her.

"Ah yes. Mr. Collins." She tapped a pen against a collection of printouts. I could see pictures on each of them, headshots of students. Evidently the department had pulled basic profiles on everyone participating. She shuffled some papers together, and then looked up at me, "You had some concerns about proper compensation, as I recall?"

I flushed a little at her tone, which seemed to imply I was rather silly to think they would leave me in the lurch and gave a vague wave with a hand, "Sorry, I didn't mean...that is, I just want to make certain this sort of thing is worth my time."

She slid a sheaf of papers across to me, each one covered in blocks of dense block text, with some areas carefully highlighted, "So, your specific partner will give you an outline of what you will be actually doing as part of this study. Most projects tend to be on the time intensive side, so the department has ensured that any student participating will have appropriate credit assigned to them." She tapped a particular page and then continued, "Financial compensation will also be line with departmental policies on normal test study groups. No lower rate for students." Her polite smile widened into a knowing grin, "Does that set your mind at ease?"

I gave an embarrassed smile in return, "Yes, of course." I shifted around in front of her, and then blinked as she shoved the mass of papers into my hand.

"That is the non-disclosure and other contractual bits. I want to emphasize that this group of testing is run in the strictest confidence. There will be no interaction with other test subjects, as this would both violate privacy and potentially compromise some of the individual testing parameters. After we finish up here, your sole contact will be with your handler, so to speak." She gave me another polite smile, "Understand that?"

I gave a half-distracted nod, leafing through the dense legal jargon. The highlighted portions were quite helpful, pointing out the seemingly most topical points about privacy, compensation, and educational credit. I found myself glossing over pages without highlights after I skimmed the first few and found little apart from the usual contractual nonsense. I signed along all the lines where it told me to, and then handed it back. I realized, as she accepted the papers, that she had continued to talk and was expecting a response from me. I flushed redder, "Sorry Ma'am, I missed that last bit."

She gave a chuckle and, with a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, repeated, "This series of studies is about various aspects of sex and sexuality. Thus the additional privacy sections in the contract you just signed."

I felt my flush deepen, and I began to stammer something. Something about maybe this not being for me then. I suddenly could not imagine lying on a couch and discussing my sex life, non-existent that it was, with some bookish psych student.

I had barely begun to string words together when the lady gave a soft chuckle, and a depreciating wave of her hand, "Don't worry your head about it sweetheart. You will do just fine. Based on your profile, I've assigned you to a Ms Heather Brintz. She has a rather interesting project planned out, and I think you'll become quite comfortable with her."

I gave a nervous nod, not really accepting what she said. My mind was far too distracted by the imminent thought of having to discuss my inner most sexual secrets or desires with this Heather. The woman rose form the desk as my mental jabbering continued, and gently took me by the arm,

"I'll take you to her assigned station, and get you settled in, ok?"

I gave a nod, happy enough to be led through the door, and down a long hallway. The passage was regularly broken up with doors, most closed though a few still open. I had little time to examine the open ones as I was briskly marched down the hallway by this still nameless woman, eventually coming to a halt in front of an open door. Above the frame were stenciled the numbers 121. I was ushered inside.

The room itself was rather well furnished for a testing space. A table was set up near the door, with a chair to either side of it. Off to the side were some nice looking thick carpets, around which were arrayed two nice leather couches. Two crouching wardobes were arrayed along the wall near the couches. The far wall had several tasteful countryside paintings hung, with a few low tables and shelves stacked with books. Warm light came from several old looking lamps and a small ceiling fan which soothing whirled above me. I almost immediately felt the nerves and tension ease a little within myself. I found myself gently seated, with my back to the door, and left with some water. With an assurance that Heather would be with me soon, I was left alone.

A few minutes trickled by. I sipped at the water. I was a moment away from rising to go see what sort of books were in the room, when I heard the door open behind me. I turned to look behind me and felt my jaw nearly drop. A gorgeous slim redheaded girl walked into the room. A white lab coat was secured around her, with black leather boots peeking out of the bottom. The medical look gave her a professional air, but I was drawn to her eyes. Pale grey-blue, they seemed to draw me in as though a calm spot in the fiery storm of her ginger-red hair. A light dusting of freckles completed her fetching look. I realized I was staring as a small grin stole over her face as she approached the desk, and I blushed and looked down at the surface.

A sheaf of papers with a large binder were gently placed on the table, and she sat down across from me. A gentle, professional looking smile graced her face, but her eyes still held me. Their pale nature nonetheless gazed at me with some warmth, and I felt more of my nerves slowly dissipating. This might not be so bad.

"Good morning. I'm Heather Brintz." Her voice had an enjoyable lilting quality to it. Rather soothing. "I take it you are my test subject for this project?" She cocked an eyebrow at me, and I felt a tinge of blush colour my cheeks.

"Yes, um, sorry. I'm Liam." I held my hand out to her, not certain if it was right, but she took it with a warm and firm grip, smiling at me.

"Pleased to meet you Liam. Before we kick off I wanted to go over some of the details of this specific trial with you, if that's ok?"

I nodded quickly. Anything was ok for her.

"Great! So, I assume you've been told that all these studies are going to be on various aspects of sexuality and sexual practice, right?" She raised an eyebrow again until I nodded, then continued, "well my studies will be concentrated in the realm of fetishes. Specifically related to BDSM."

I twitched in my chair, staring at her. At how calmly Heather had said that she would be discussing BDSM, BDSM! with me. I open my mouth, not certain exactly what I want to say in response, but Heather continues.

"Don't worry. The study envisions an introductory period for the subject. I'm not going to throw you into the deep end. But you will be getting tied up for just about all of the sessions you have with me, with various implements, and in various ways."

I gripped my hands together in my lap, trying to control my facial expression. It's not everyday that a pretty girl casually informs you that she'll be tying you up for science. I could barely believe that I had been this lucky, to land this role. I couldn't decide if this was going to be more embarrassing than lying on a couch talking about everything or not. I would be...experiencing this rather than talking about it. Half formed fantasies flashed through my mind as I wondered what this would entail, before I realized that Heather had continued to talk while I was busy daydreaming.

"...envision getting to that point after the first three weeks of the study. That's my hypothesis anyway. But as I said, we'll start slow. Sound good to you?" Heather favoured me with a warm smile and I found myself nodding along. Her eyes lit up and her smile widened, "Great!"

Papers were slid across the table to me. My hand was trembling as I began leafing through them. Heather helpfully indicated where I needed to sign. Lots of spots towards the end, under dense blocks of text. Especially under the waiver and release portion. But I carried through, excited at the thought of what was to come. And anyway, that teacher had already taken me through the initial battery of forms. These were probably more of the same. As I concentrated on the final few pages, Heather got up and came to stand next to me, one hand settling lightly on my shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze. I signed the final line with a flourish.

She leaned down, gathering up the papers, and murmured quite close to my ear, "There's a good boy."

I felt the back of my neck flush a little, and my cheeks took on a slight tinge as I shivered at that. Those words in that wonderful lilting murmur sent a strange feeling racing up my spine. I looked up at her as she finished scooping up the papers, and got another smile. This one though, while still warm, spoke of something else. A faint hint of dominance. Of being in charge of me now. Maybe it was just my imagination, but Heather seemed...in control. Of the room. Of me. I shivered again.

She placed the papers into her bag, and then gestured for me to follow her. I gingerly rose from my chair, my stomach doing flip flops, and walked over to settle gently onto the couch. She walked over to one of the large wardrobes and began to gather up some items. The clink, hiss, and jingle of metal, rope, and leather sent more odd feelings racing up and down my spine. This was it. This was really happening. Bondage for science. I managed to suppress a nervous guffaw of laughter at that, holding myself rigidly in place and still. I would not screw this up.

I watched Heather as she gathered up her tools into a small bag and came back over to me, laying the bag on the small table. She settled next to me, placing a hand gently on my thigh.

"Alright then Liam, we are going to start with the basics. Have you ever taken part in an actual BDSM scene?"

I shook my head, mouth dry at the thought. This was really happening.

She smiled, "No worries. That makes you perfect for this study." She gave my thigh an encouraging squeeze, "First things first I'm going to get you to change out of your outside clothes into your session clothes." She held up a pair of black latex shorts.

I looked at the material and shivered a little, "Do...do I have to, um..."

She gave a soft giggle and rubbed my shoulder, "Of course you do silly. C'mon. We are going to be getting into some steamy stuff together as part of this study. I am going to see you in all your glory, so no need for shyness." She winked at me, "It's cute and endearing, don't get me wrong, but let's get started hmm?"

I blushed a little at that, and managed to stammer some sort of affirmative. I stood up, shuffling a pace away from the couch and slowly tugged my shirt up and over my head. I wasn't incredibly well built, but good enough I suppose. Always thought of myself as average. Average as they ever came. But the way Heather's eyes traced over my naked torso, flicking up to give me another wink and grin, you would have thought I was perfect in very physical respect. I felt my blush deepen, and a nervous grin sprouted on my face."

I shimmied free of my pants, after stripping off my shoes and socks. Standing there in just my underwear, Heather's eyes tracked up and down over my body. I fidgeted under her gaze, not quite sure what to do next. She held out the black latex shorts, hanging from a single finger, and almost purred, "Please put these on Liam."

I flushed, taking them gingerly from her. With my blush ever present I turned away to present my back and rear to her, slowly easing my last vestige of outside clothing off myself. I could feel her eyes devouring my nakedness from behind and, the feeling of being desirable still eminently weird for me, pulled the shorts she had given me on. The feel of latex against my skin sent shivers and goosebumps up and don my body, and I firmly tugged them into place with a quiet little moan.

"First time wearing latex?" I nodded in response, and I heard her giggle again, "God you are just adorable. Alright, turn back around." I did so. She was scribbling some notes down onto her notepad, so I stood in front of her waiting. She looked back up with a smile, "Ready to keep going?" I nodded again.

She grinned, "Alright, next bit is the real beginning of any BDSM session. Kneel down for me, right here." She pointed at the ground in front of her. My breath caught a little, but I knelt feeling like my heart was starting to beat a mile a minute. She smiled encouragingly at me, "Now, I am going to collar you." I sucked in a sharp breath at that.

Heather held up the thick leather collar she had brought over and continued, "Now, judging from your reaction you know a bit about this. But I want to make it clear with you, for the purpose of this study, what this collar signifies." She cocked an eyebrow at me and I nodded, swallowing hard. "Good. This is your session collar, or play collar. When I lock this collar around your neck, until it comes off, you are my submissive. My plaything. When this collar is on your neck you will always address me as Mistress Heather. I will be free to address you however I please, from your name, to simply calling you slave. When you wear this, for all intents and purposes, you are owned. You will always be wearing a collar during our sessions, as you will always be submissive with me. Got it?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. She smiled and beckoned me closer. I bowed my head towards her, breathing deep calming breaths as I felt soft supple leather encircle my throat. My breath caught and I moaned faintly as she pulled it snug against my throat. I sucked in another breath, and then felt a shiver race up and down my spine as she locked the collar around my neck. My eyes, half lidded shut, snapped back open. She grinned at me, dangling the key to my collar in front of me, before tucking it away in a pocket. I swallowed, feeling a rush of...something, emanate upwards from inside me at the thought that I was now collared by Heather. By Mistress Heather. It was...oddly exhilarating.

"How does that feel, Liam? To be my collared slave boy?" She grinned at me. I beat down the loud moan that suddenly seemed to surge inside me as she called me her slave boy, and instead opted for croaking out, "Pretty...um...pretty incredible, I guess...? Uh...Mistress Heather." She wagged her finger at me teasingly at my near slip up, then picked up her notebook and began a gentle barrage of questions. How was I really feeling. What was I thinking about. Was I comfortable. How would I feel if x happened. All manner of questions, which she studiously recorded my halting, shy responses.

Once Heather was satisfied with my answers she picked up a pair of leather cuffs, "I'm going to start you off with leather bondage. We'll be trying other types as well, but it's going to be both more comfortable, and you will also probably be more responsive to the leather too. Given how the collar has worked out." I blushed. She grinned at me, then gestured, "Give me your wrists, slave." Those shivers again. I offered her my wrists. Each cuff felt cool and soft against my skin as she buckled them on. Each one was secured with a small padlock, and my hands were then directed behind my back to be locked together. I let out a soft gasp as I was, for the first time, bound. Really bound. Without the keys, which she again laughingly dangled in front of me before pocketing them, I was helpless. I felt a moan escape me as Heather watched me squirm in my wrist cuffs.

A new barrage of questions followed. How did the cuffs feel. What did I think of bondage. etc. etc. It was briefer this time, perhaps only ten minutes or so. Then the notebook was laid aside again, "Now, we are going to go into a bit of activity. Ready?" I nodded. I was actually enjoying this. I felt my cock throb a little, the latex shorts making for an interesting sensation down there.

Heather produced a small leather leash and clipped it to my collar. I blushed as she smiled at me, "Now then slave, we are going to try a bit of boot worship. I want to see how much you love my leather boots. You do love how they look on me, don't you?"

I nodded, and she cocked an eyebrow at me. I flushed a little more and stammered, "Um, yes Mis-Mistress Heather. I...I really like leather, um, boots."

"Good boy," she gave the leash a tug, slowly pulling me downwards, "Isn't it nice then that your mistress wants you to lick and kiss her boots? Aren't I nice?"

I nodded and stammered out an affirmative. I had little time for more than a 'Yes Mistress' before my mouth made contact with her boot. I couldn't help but let out a moan as I felt and tasted the leather of her boot. She wiggled it underneath me, "Start worshiping it slave, while I work."

I began to gently kiss and lick at her boots, my hands squirming in their snug restraints. I felt the collar around my neck, felt the weight of what was happening. I was collared, nearly naked, bound at the feet of a dominant woman. Ordered to worship her boots. Sure, all for a psych study, but I was getting quite hot and bothered by the whole scene. One of my half thought out fantasies had been effortlessly brought to life by this Heather Brintz. The soft scritch scratch sound of her pen against paper was joined by the creak of leather, my muffled panting, and the occasional soft rasp of my tongue running over her boots. My world seemed to narrow down to the sight, smell, and taste of her boots. The feel of my leather bonds. And the presence of the collar around my neck. Nothing else penetrated the pleasant fog that began to curl in around the corners of my mind.

We each steadily worked away at our own tasks. Occasionally the pen would stop its motions against the paper, and I would feel a gentle tug from the leash directing me towards a new spot. But Heather generally seemed content to observe my natural tendencies while I was bound and collared, at least in this initial session. She let me keep at it, working my way up with kisses and licks until I had covered both boots up to about mid-calf. As I paused to take a breath, the leash tugged me up and away from her boots, bringing me up to meet Heather's smile.

"Well done Liam," she cooed a little, bringing a slight flush to my face, "You've done very well for your first session. Taken to bondage and submission like a fish to water." I flushed darker at that and she gave a warm laugh, patting my head, "Nothing to be ashamed over hun, this is what my study is all about. That this sort of thing is faaaar more natural than previously thought. But," she gave a quick shrug, "We can get into that another time. I don't want to eat up too much of your day. So let me just get your chastity set up and then you can be on your way."

"My what?" she cocked an eyebrow at me, looking at me. Wait. Damn it. Looking at my collar, "My what? Um, Mistress?"

She shook her head with a grin, giving me a teasing tap-tap on my cheek with her palm, "Going forward making a mistake like that is going to result in a bit of correction, Liam." She dipped her hand into a small bag on the couch next to her, and removed an odd plasticky looking device, "To answer your question, your chastity device. Part of the programme."

"What's it for, Mistress?" I squirmed in my bonds, the conversation making me feel a little tingly. Me, on my knees in front of Heather while still bound and collared, asking her about bondage related things. Oh yeah. Tingles.

She held it up in front of me and smiled, "Take a wild guess Liam." When I blushed she chuckled and continued, "I can hardly get a good read on how all this is making you feel if you are wanking yourself silly every night." She tapped my nose with her finger, "Which is probably exactly what you were planning to do after this, hmm?"

I felt as though my blush was never going to go away around her at this rate. She gave a nod, "Not that I blame you, this sort of play can be highly erotic, especially for first-timers. Thus, the chastity device. So when you aren't here with me, you are in chastity. Ok? Not that I don't trust you, I just want to make certain we get this right the first time."

I shivered a little as I looked at the device in her hands, "I...I..." she patiently waited for me to form some sort of coherent sentence, objection to this or otherwise. I felt my hands clench and unclench behind me as I stammered, finally settling for, "I...have to wear it the whole time?"

"Whenever you aren't present here with me, until the end of this study, you will be in chastity. I will usually let you out when you are here, though that won't always be the case." She ran a hand gently through my hair, the leash chain dangling from it, "Controlling pleasure is one of the critical components of assessing your reactions to the stimuli I will be presenting to you. You are perfectly safe. I would never do anything to harm you, ok?" Her storm coloured eyes were soft and convincing. I gave a nervous nod. "Alright then, I'm going to get this on."

I sucked in a breath despite myself as her hands drifted down to settle onto my hips. My hands clenched shut in their bonds behind me as she slowly eased the black latex down, down, down off my hips to settle around my knees. My breath was a little ragged as the latex descended down my thighs, leaving me exposed at last in front of Heather. My nerves, embarrassment, and general off-balance, had been sufficient to lessen my obvious enjoyment of this initial session. Though it didn't help my mental balance that Heather then began to gently trace the fingers of one hand along the inside of my thighs. I shuddered in my bonds, leaning forward a bit to rest against her shoulder. She gave a pleased chuckle, and then I could hear her begin to fiddle with the chastity device, one hand continuing to caress my thigh.

I felt her hand take a gentle grip around my member and balls, and sucked in a sharp breath. There was a sensation of plastic, of smooth restraint, and of my bits being tucked into the firm embrace of...something. Then I heard a click. And another. And felt my privates suddenly and quite securely enclosed. I shuddered against Heather at the sensation, and then heard the unmistakable snick of a lock being snapped shut.

I gave a little start and sat back from her, staring down at where translucent plastic encircled and secured my cock and balls. Everything was kept tucked neatly away, with a small opening that, I would guess, was meant to allow me to relieve myself without having to take off the device. And, hanging off the top where the two halves of the device met, was a small padlock. The key to which, to my moaning dismay, was dangled in front of me for a moment by Heather, before it exchanged places with the key to my collar.

I watched her scratch another couple of lines in her notebook, and then she stood up, "Let's get you ready to face the world again, hmm?"

She undid the cuffs around my wrists, and then slowly shimmied the shorts down the rest of my legs after helping me to stand. Then, with a wink that sent a fresh blush heating the back of my neck, she stood back to watch me slowly dress myself. I tugged my clothes into place, at all times conscious of how the chastity cage swung and pressed against my legs, adding just a touch of domineering weight to my groin. I couldn't help shivering a few times as I felt it swing, something Heather no doubt picked up on. Once I was finally reclothed, she stepped up back close to me, hands going to close about both of my upper arms. She grinned and gave my arms a bit of a squeeze,

"How does it feel to be still under my control? Going out with your most intimate bits under my lock and key?" Her grin widened as my face tinged crimson, and she playfully gave the d-ring of my collar a flick with a finger, "Would you feel better or worse if I sent you back to your place with my collar locked around your neck?" I stiffened in response and opened my mouth to tell her hell no, but she was already giggling and raising the key, "Kidding! Kidding, Liam. The look on your face though..." She chuckled and I heard the padlock on the collar unlock. Moments later the leathery pressure around my neck fell away and, for any external viewers, I was once more free and normal looking. Only Heather and I knew of her continued control. And I hoped to keep it that way.

"Alright then Liam," Heather steered me towards the door, "I will see you bright and early tomorrow. This was just an intro for the both of us. Plan on tomorrow being much longer." As we neared the door she turned me to face her and gave me a quick peck on either cheek. Even as I flushed red in surprise at that, she smiled and pushed me gently out of the room. Into the hallway. The door swung shut, and I was alone with my spinning, rambling thoughts. Gah. Bloody, damned...hell.

I stumbled back to my dorm room in a daze, barely aware of anything as my mind replayed over and over again the scenes from this morning. The firm pressure of the cage around my genitals was a constant reminder of her. Of Heather. I shuddered, nearly tripping as I entered the dorm building at the thought of what she had planned for her study. I imagined, illogically and with not a shred of evidence, that everyone who glanced my way, or came near me, could somehow sense my predicament. My caged and dominated state of body and mind. 

I thought that once I was back in my room I could calm down. I couldn't. I closed my eyes. I saw Heather. I got up and paced around the room. I could feel the cock cage shifting and moving against me. I thought of Heather. I tried to read, play video games, do something. Anything. I wiled away hours and hours trying. But I would either drift off and see or think of her, or shift in some way and be reminded of her continued control. Eventually I stripped, in preparation for bed, and found myself eyeing the cage and lock. Marveling that a girl I just met today had finagled me into letting her lock me up. And tie me up. And I was going to keep letting her. I could barely believe it, but there it was.

I slept. Eventually. Poorly. Dreaming of leather, bondage, and Heather.

I was back the next day, bright and early. The receptionist waved me through with a polite smile, and I found myself back in the room. Heather was already there. This time in a completely fetish attire. Dark red PVC and leather graced her form, with those boots from yesterday. Or were they different? I couldn't tell. She smiled and welcomed me. And we began anew.

Heather had organized herself into a methodical approach to her BDSM study. This first full day was spent with me being wrapped up in ropes. Bound in a variety of positions, from light to extensive, and either left to groove in the bonds or tasked with cleaning a piece of furniture, or her boot, or enduring some sort of light spanking. At the end of the day she had me lie down on a table and rubbed me down with a soothing balm of some sort. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep at a couple points, but I was eventually dismissed as the sun was beginning to go down, still in chastity, with no release. I spent another night fruitlessly thrashing around my bed and room trying to think of anything other than Heather and her toys.

The next two days were much the same. Heather would welcome me in, dressed in a different fetish outfit, all of them just oozing dominance. The second day was mostly me being mummified in tape and left to squirm about while being teased and tormented in equal measure. Heather had a way of combining teasing caresses with cooing encouragements that had me doing my best to leap out of the spools and spools of tape that she had used to secure me. All for naught though, as all it accomplished was to get me extraordinarily hot and bothered, in all senses. She then spent a good part of the afternoon watching tv while running her feet all over my mummified body. Occasionally leaning down to feed me fruit in an incredibly charged manner. I could barely eat I was so thoroughly engrossed in her. I received a massage again, this time combined with leaning back against her while she massage my head and scalp. I found myself moaning in pleasure at the soothing sensations, helped along by her gentle softly spoken encouragement. But, when that ended, I was once again dismissed. No release from my cage. No satiation of my now ragingly horny thoughts. I came darn near to trying to grind myself out on my bed that night but managed to resist. Instead I tossed and turned all night, dreaming of Heather's eyes and touch.

Chains came on the third day. Manacles that were locked around my wrists, waist, and ankles, and chains connecting them all together. And my collar. Heather was dressed as some sort of sexy prison warden, and began directing me about the room as soon as I was firmly locked up to clean and tidy. She had deliberately messed things up before I had arrived, and i spent most of the morning clinking about the place, encouraged by the flicking of her crop that she artfully deployed. While I was cleaning she would occasionally glide over to press herself against me, a hand trailing down to 'accidentally' brush against my caged member. I would gasp. I would shudder. I would press myself back against her. And she would giggle, and coo. And occasionally give it a single firm grip. And then release. And walk away. And I would moan, increasingly more loudly, in frustration. Then she switched, in the afternoon, to trailing teasing groping fingers across my nipples and ass, ratcheting up my frustration to more heightened planes. In response to all of my unintelligible begging and pleading, and moaning, came her gentle giggles. Her twinkling, mischievous sea-coloured eyes. And the scritch-scratch of that pen of hers in her notebook. And, after the ending massage, I was again dismissed. Out into the twilight world. Out to take out my frustration in furious pacing, pillow screaming, and cold cold showers. I barely slept a wink that night. I couldn't keep doing this. It was only the end of the third day. I wouldn't survive Heather. Not sanely anyway. I had to ask.

Day four. Back to leather. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, and my cock pressed painfully against its cage, when I entered the room. Heather was dressed in a killer black leather catsuit, with a keyhole cutout to display a pleasing view of her cleavage. A corset and boots wrapped her torso and legs respectively, adding buckles and cinches and straps to her in an erotically thrilling picture. She grinned at me, and beckoned me over to stand in front of her. I knew the drill at this point, and hurriedly stripped down to the black shorts. I nearly asked her right then, but she was tapping my collar against her leg. She clearly wanted to begin. No harm in waiting a bit longer, I decided. I knelt in front of her. An odd thrill shooting through me as I looked up at Heather's smile. Her warm grey-blue eyes. The beguiling and fetching scarlet hair framing her face and drawn back in a messy ponytail. I felt a catch in my throat, and gulped as the collar was snugly buckled and locked into place. God she was gorgeous. And I was a bloody mess at this point.

We returned to leather restraints, first trying out how flexible I was in an armbinder (better than she expected, so she told me) before wrapping me up in a striaghtjacket so that she could lie me back against her while we watched a movie and ate lunch. The feel of my leather and hers, pressing and hugging me, was enough to send me once more into the febrile fantasy land my mind had become. Immediately after our early lunch I was freed for a bit, keeping only my collar and cock cage, before my torso was webbed with leather straps in an involved harness, and my wrists were cuffed and locked together. She had me kneel down in front of her and pick up my boot worshipping lessons, while she scribbled in her note book. At this point I was once more bubbling back towards a boiling point of need.

"Uh...um, Mistress Heather?" Her eyes lazily looked up front her notes, a tinge of amused curiousity in them,

"Yes, Liam?" Gaah. Her eyes seemed to drink me in. To know me. To know what I wanted. That damnably cute smile she flashed as she watched me was not, not NOT helping.

"I..." I worked my jaw, squirming in my bonds, and feeling my cheeks heat. I did not need this bloody blushing reaction. I growled mentally, and hear her make a noise that sounded an awful lot like a suppressed giggle. I flushed a little more, "I...can you..." I shifted around, inadvertantly thrusting my hips a little, "This has been...amazing...but, please...I can't..."

"Can't what?" She cocked her head to one side and shifted. I felt the tip of her boot press gently into my caged cock, and I let out the most submissive, needy, moan I had ever let out around her to date. I saw her smile widen into a grin, and she shifted to face me, her legs going to either side of my kneeling form, "Ah. I see..." She reached out, and hooked a finger through my collar's d-ring, pulling me up onto my knees, and dropping her other hand down to my hip, "Let's see you then." I felt her hand fiddle with something, and then stiffened as the black shorts seemed to fall away on their own, leaving me stark naked. Apart, that is, from my leather bondage, collar, and the platicky cock cage.

Heather gave me no time to respond though, instead her hand darted forward to gently cup my caged member in it, cradling it and stroking it. I moaned, a gutteral almost animal reaction at this point. My hips gave a shuddering thrust forward, under no control from my higher brain functions.

"Does this feel good Liam?" She stroked along the prison, one finger trailing gently across my balls. I shuddered and nodded. Moaned.

"It makes you feel goooood, doesn't it Liam?" I nodded again. I could barely keep my eyes focused, but her own seemed to draw me into them. I could only look at her. Could only feel her touch, without looking at it. My arms strained in their leather restraints, but were held fast.

"You enjoy being my little bondage plaything, don't you Liam?" I shuddered, blushing a bright tinge of scarlet, and managed to nod. Her eyes seemed to demand it. Demand that I reveal this truth. They were calm. Warm. Understanding. Understanding of me. What I was. What I wanted...needed.

"You want to cum? While you are here, with me? Bound? Collared? My bondage...slave?" Each word was somehow sensual, yet precise. delivered in a warm yet clinical fashion. I had no idea how she did it, but I jerked at each delivery, moaning at each description of just what I wanted. Nodded at the end as I remained locked on her eyes. She had gotten closer with each clipped sentence, her face now filling my entire frame of vision, her hands keeping my collar securely held, and my chastity cage in the other. I moaned deeply, and she gave a delighted chuckle, "Then I just have one last question for you, my sweet Liam.

She slowly leaning forward until we were almost nose to nose, and then whispered to me her eyes smouldering with something I couldn't quite place, "Ready to come home and be my slave?"

I moaned and then blinked a little, my mind suracing, ever so slightly, from the sea of horniness that it had been thoroughly drowning in only moments before, "Wai...I...Is this part of the study?"

"This is a study, Liam. I want to know what makes you tick, so that I know you. I want to know what will make you offer yourself to me, so that I can take you. I want to know what will make you submit, utterly and completely, to me, so that I can break you. I want to know what it takes to own you...so that I can keep you. For science." Warm. Matter-of-fact. Calm. Insane. 

I stared at her, in shock at the calm delivery of those words. She looked at me for a few moments, then sighed a little and gently stroked his head with the hand that had been holding his chastised cock, "I know its not an easy thing sweetheart, but we have the time. It's what you signed up for, and I intend to see this project through to the finish. I'll be thorough, no need to worry." She patted my arm reassuringly, but I just blinked at her, still in shock.

With another gentle sigh she proceeded to untie me from my leather bonds. As I was steered towards the door, I realized I was still caged. And naked, with my clothes heaped in my hands.

“When you want to get you of that cage slave, you can give me a call.” The door shut behind me. I stood in the hall, hardly believing what just happened. Almost a minute passed before I realized if I didn't want the mother of all harassment complaints, I needed to get dressed. I searched for and eventually found an empty room half a building away and dressed as quickly as I could. As I finished re-buttoning my shirt, my phone buzzed. I opened it.

If you want to have an orgasm slave boy, just come back to our room today at 5pm. If I find you there, at 515pm, naked, collared, gagged, with your hands cuffed behind you, I'll let your cock free.

There it was. Ultimatum. Gaaaaaaaaah! I nearly shouted my frustration allowed in that small little room. She had me. Had me, literally, by the balls. I briefly considered reporting this, but then thought of the reams and reams of papers I had signed. Surely, somewhere in there, there would be something that would cover her. Maybe even blame me for messing up her study. Could I get in that much trouble? Was there any other bloody way out of this?

I couldn't see one. I just couldn't.

5pm rolled around. I was shaking with a mix of apprehension, frustration, but mostly a bubbling cauldron of sexual tension and need. I was also kneeling naked in the room that I had been shoved out of four hours ago. My play collar locked around my neck, a ball gag seated snugly in my mouth, and my hands buckled together behind me. The picture of submission, I assume. I had considered trying to remain in my underwear, or some other small act of defiance, but the promise of release drove all thought of resistance from me. After. Afterwards I could reason with her. Tell her this whole slave thing was too much. Certainly way over the thirty days promised.

The door opened. Heather strode into the room, the same outfit as before. Her eyes lit up in delight, seeing me kneeling on the floor, and she bent down to snap a leash to the front of my collar, "Follow me."

She pulled me towards the back of the room, where a chain dangled from the ceiling. With what seemed a practiced move, she tugged my leash downwards, grabbing my milling wrists, and then hooking them to the chain. A sudden whine sounded, and I felt myself slowly forced into a strappado position. I moaned into my gag, and she patted my cheek absently, before finally, blessedly, unlocking and removing the chastity device. My cock began to almost immediately throb and grow as she returned to gently stroke it, slowly building me up. Slowly, I rose to meet her challenge. I moaned into my gag, thrusting my hips forward. Yes. Yes, Yes! Then, just as I felt myself within touching distance of what promised to be the greatest orgasm of my life, she twisted away behind me, a single snort of laughter leaving me bitterly dangling on edge.

"MMMMMMMMM!!!!"

SMACK! The impact of the flogger jolted me forward, and I let out another yell of frustration, mixed with surprise this time, and pain.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

With each new blow I jumped and twisted in my restraints, bleating into my gag in pain, horniness and fear. After those five blows, her hand reached down to begin stroking me again. Within moments my cock was once again hard and ready, pulsing in her hand as I moaned and thrust against her. Once again, as I neared the edge, she pulled away, and delivered a longer flogging this time, tracing up and down my buttocks and lower back. She repeated this at least twice more, elongating her teasing strokes and flogging with each fresh rendition. By the end of it I was almost hanging from my wrists, moaning nonstop into my gag.

I felt her grip the back of my collar and lift my head. Her eyes met mine. Compassionate. Warm. Understanding. Domineering. Uncompromising. "Just remember Liam," her soft lilting voice seemingly at odds with the past act, "You signed up for this, to be my test subject. I'm going to see how far down the BDSM rabbit hole you'll go. I thought you might be reluctant to move on to the next phase, so that's where the chastity device comes in. You want to orgasm right?" I nodded. "Ready to come home and be my slave?" I shook my head like some punch drunk fool who didn't know he was beat. God. Even I didn't have confidence in me.

Heather just shook her head with another sigh, before applying an ice pack to my already dwindling erection to lock it back up. I moaned and whined while she worked, trying to tiredly buck myself free, but she was far too good to let any of my attempts do more than delay her, and before much longer I was back to being her chaste boy toy. I tried to raise a protest when she unbuckled my ball gag, but she held a finger up to my lips, shushing me, "Until I'm done with you, the only times your cock will be unlocked is if I've decided to tease you. The only way I will allow you to actually achieve orgasm...is to come come with me to continue your slave training as phase two. But you must agree. I will not take you without that. But...you. Will. Be. Mine."

And with those words I was firmly escorted to the door and told to be back at 0800 the next morning.

The next week seemed to both fly by and inch by at the same time. Heather began to intensify the sessions, in bondage, in punishment, and in servitude training. Sometimes I would get my cage removed for a tease session, but just as often I would remain in chastity throughout. Whenever it was unlocked I was edged over and over again, interspersed with some sort of punishment, before she popped her eternal question: Would I become her slave? Would I go to her home to continue my bondage journey. I refused. Sometimes raggedly, sometimes amidst frustrated whines and pleading for release. But I always managed to stave off her advances. And for my reward I would be consigned into the outer darkness once more, bereft of any satisfaction. And cold showers only helped so much.

"Did you hear me Liam?"

I moaned into my gag. I was tightly dressed in a full black rubber catsuit, with a tight armbinder squeezing my arms and chest. A full hood was snugly fitted to my head, with a large ball gag on the inside of the panel gag. The armbinder was drawn up on her winch so that I was in a strappado position, and my legs were bound with a spreader bar keeping them apart. I barely heard Heather asking me a question as I was currently concentrating on squirming and thrusting my hips in time with the vibrations emanating from the two machines she had hooked up to my cock on one end, and the other teasing the entrance to my ass. I moaned deeply again as another dual thrum surged through me. I had been in this position for...for...hours I suppose. She patted my naked, sensitive buttocks with her hand, taking the time to grope both buttocks before slapping them each in turn thrice. I whimpered. Today's corporal sessions had been...long.

"Ready to be my slave, Liam?" I mumbled in response, moaning again into my gag.

"What's that?" Her crop slapped down onto my rear, drawing a sharp squeak from me that rapidly devolved to mindless moaning once more. Again it slapped down, and again, "Speak up Liam."

I mumbled once more into the gag, not even certain myself what I wanted to say. Only that I wasn't refusing outright.

Heather stepped around in front of me, herself in a matching rubber catsuit of deep purple. I moaned at the sight of her, and she bent to unbuckle the gag from my mouth, "I want you to say it Liam. Say, 'I want to come home with you Mistress Heather, and be your submissive bondage slave." I opened my mouth, working my jaw in distant consideration. My mind still flapping about in uncertainty and indecision. She crouched down next to me, her eyes drawing mine once more, and she gave my forehead the lightest of kisses, "Say it, Liam."

Haltingly I repeated her words back to her, the words feeling like they were being dragged from me, "I want...to come h-home with...with you, Mistress Heather and..." I squeezed my eyes shut, "...and be your...your submissive...bondage...slave." I drew a shuddering breath in as I finished. Oddly, it felt like a pressure inside me had lifted somehow, even though I had lost. I had failed. I had-

She leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips, and all thought suddenly ground to a halt. Nothing mattered. Not my future. Not what she had done to me, put me through, these past days. All that mattered was that kiss. It went on. Gentle, yet commanding. Warm and fierce. When she finally broke it off I had a chance to suck in a breath, before my gag was forced back into my mouth and rebuckled tightly in its hood snaps.

She leaned in to catch my gaze, stroking the side of my rubber covered head, "Good boy. Good boy Liam. Finally seeing sense." She leaned down to undo my spreader bar, attaching a small chain between my ankle cuffs. My armbinder was taken down from the ceiling chain, and a leash attached to my collar. With a tug, she pulled me out of the door and out of our session room.

"mmmph?" I gurgled as I followed her through the mercifully empty hallways.

"Don't worry Liam, Sharon knows I need to move you, so we won't be bothered at all." Heather waved as we passed the receptionist's desk. The receptionist, Sharon, looked up and winked at both of us, "Make him squeal Ms. Brintz."

Heather giggled, "Oh I intend to. Perhaps you can come see him once I have him satisfactorily trained." And with that thought to keep my mind spinning, we exited the building, followed by Sharon's pleased chuckle. I was settled into the back of Heather's beat up car, hogtied on the seat with the vibrator on my cock still running at low power.

"I've or your little friend here to keep you company, and keep that mind of yours busy with pleasure, until we get home. Still got a few weeks of reports to compile for this study. But at least we can finally move on to phase two, my stubborn, wonderful little slave boy." Heather gave my butt teasing smack, and then got got into the driver's seat. Moments later we were driving away. I found that the vibrations kept me well-distracted, and for most of the journey I was busy grinding myself into the backseat and moaning. But at some point I tuned back into the fact that Heather seemed to be recording some notations to herself.

"...submitted on Day Eight after extensive exposure to rubber and leather fetish wear and restraints. Proper training and submission regime to be tailored to ensure these elements are consistently present. Prognosis: Will likely ease subject's descent and acceptance of position in line with projected expectations. Chastity remains a must. Day Nine will..." At that point the vibrator kicked up a notch, and all thought of listening further was banished as I moaned deeply and began to grind again into the seat beneath me, hoping against hope for an orgasm through the chastity.

After what felt like an eternity of teasing vibrations, tight rubber and leather bondage, and the smooth motion of the car, I felt us slowly pull to a stop. Heather got out of the car, and then the door in front of me opened. From my limited field of vision, I could see we were inside a garage. No chance of nosy neighbours helping me, I surmised. Heather smiled down at me, stroking my head, "Welcome home Liam. Let's get started."