Heather had been true to her promise, I had to give her that at least. The first thing that happened when she untied me from the hogtie in her car was finally, blessedly, some satisfaction. She had led me into her living room, bobbing along at the end of her leash like some punch drunk fool. I had emitted a squeak as she shoved me into a nice soft leather chair, before she clambered on top of me and pressed herself to me. My cock was released, and her hands swiftly found it, jacking me to glorious, wonderful release. The whole while telling me what a good boy I was, for finally giving in to her. That she would take care of me. That I was safe with her. I moaned at each whispered promise, and was rewarded more often than not with a soft kiss on my gagged lips. 

I was so drained afterwards that I barely registered her binding me up and leaving me to squirm and moan in her living room. But that's what she did, and where I stayed, until it was time to feed me, clean me up, and put me away for the night. Dinner was a surreal affair, as I sat heavily bound at her feet, being fed by hand by this gorgeous, insane psych student. I don't even remember what she fed me, only how her eyes sparkled as I accepted each bite from her, and then dutifully licked and sucked the remnants from her fingers. I was left ungagged as she brought me to her bedroom for sleep. Heather told me, as she finished cinching home the last of the straps that would hold me in a comfortable embrace, that I would start out on the padded mat at the foot of her bed. Since it was the first night and all. But I could see the dark bulk of a large heavy looking slave cage off to one side. My eventual fate it would seem. This was so completely and utterly insane. I tried to voice my objections to what she had done to me thus far, but that just earned me a large plug gag, and a "hush now little one, it will all make sense."

That first evening there set the tone for the next three days, as Heather worked to acclimatize me to the intensified training programme that made up Phase Two of her study. From a few comments she made to me I had evidently gotten myself into a multistage project. That I had signed up for, and was bound by as far as the university was concerned. She reassured me, when I began to struggle and groan at the idea of a prolonged stay, that she had worked everything out with a helpful Student Affairs lady so that I would not miss any credits. "Your slavery to me won't get in the way of a good education Liam. Now, open up."

I was always dressed in rubber now, with only brief periods of nudeness to clean myself and keep up hygiene. Heather delighted in having me in a black rubber catsuit with a GWEN hood in particular for my day to day tasks. There was never a moment when I was not bound in some way, and Heather delighted in particular to always see my collar buckled around my neck. She also enjoyed the sight of leather restricting me, and most of my restraints tended towards those implements.

Heather informed me on the second day of my stay, as she was lacing up my armbinder, that it was important to assess how I responded to the 24/7 dynamic. That was the main objective of Phase Two. And a good deal of 24/7 bondage slavery involved completing chores and tasks for her while dressed and bound like a rubber maid. That became the bulk of my days. Cleaning, tidying, and generally taking care of the mundane tasks of upkeeping a household while Heather observed me, scribbled her notes, and wrote up her research into papers.

I moaned, squirming against my restraints. The other part of my day. Training and conditioning. My rubber catsuit that I wore pressed tightly against me, helped by the profusion of straps that were webbed across my body, holding me along my arms, legs, chest, and waist. A large hood was locked around my head, keeping a plug gag firmly seated in my mouth, and cutting me off from the outside world. The plug gag was hooked up to a hose that ran off to one side, pumping in some sort of aphrodisiac gas. It made me feel tingly, aroused, and desperate for Heather's attention. Something I could at least admit within the privacy of my own mind, though I strove to not let my pitiful bleatings grow too loud. But, strapped into the chair as I was, my entire world narrowed to the inside of my hood, and the horniness coursing through me from the gas. Which made the audio all the more frustrating.

Before she had strapped me down and in, she had placed a small set of earbuds. These were now conveying her crooning, teasing voice to me. Whispering about what a good slave I was becoming, how much I secretly dreamed of this, how much I wanted, needed to submit. How much I loved being her bondage toy. A bound plaything whose only purpose was to be bound and to serve. And what I needed to do, to learn, to be better. To improve at being a bound, helpless, slave. Her slave. Over and over again. Ad infinitum, or so it seemed. 

Instead of a blindfold, a bulky VR headset had been hooked up to the hood. My eyes were forced to watch the swirling hypnotic vision of women in leather, in rubber, in all manner of costumes. They paraded in front of me, looking dominant, in control, and incredibly sexy. Every one of them held a crop, or a collar and leash. Each would give me looks, perhaps a short little teasing sashay, perhaps tapping their boot to indicate what they thought I should be doing. Occasionally, very occasionally, I would suddenly see a short soundless video of Heather. Posing, giggling, being her cute domineering self. Coupled with the audio of Heather whispering heated words into my ear, I was raring to go.

I groaned, straining against my bonds, making small hip thrusts against them. God I wanted to cum so badly. My hands flexed as a domina on the VR set laughed at me while she teasingly stroked a hand held dildo. I wanted her. I wanted Heather to take me again, to pleasure me as she had that first day. I moaned again, and again, pressing myself against my restraints. wordlessly begging. It had been...God...days since I had had release...

I felt hands settle onto my head and shoulders, beginning to massage me through the leather and rubber. I moaned, and pressed my head back into Heather. I could faintly hear her giggle, and she continued to stroke and massage me. I sucked in deeper lungfuls of gas flavoured air and whimpered piteously into the plug gag. Moaning for her attention. I could hardly believe that I had been reduced so far, so quickly, by this woman. But reduced I had been. Not all the way, I was still bloody angry at her for kidnapping me. But...enough that her touch was something I wanted. Needed. I strained again against my bonds, wishing, begging for release. Her recorded words suddenly cut off, and I could hear her voice again, which on its own sent tingles through me, "Well pet, I think I am going to cut short your Training Chair period today. I'm writing up the first sections of my rough draft thesis, and I'd like you to be nearby in case I need to consult you on something. If you're a good boy and obey while I write, we can have some fun time right after. Sound good?"

I moaned and managed a muffled "yes mistress". She kissed the top of my head, "Let's get to it then slaveboy." And away she led me.

Some Time Later

Heather Brintz lived in a rather cozy home off campus. She was quite content with her home, tucked away as it was from the hustle and bustle of the larger city. A small little portion of life, sectioned off with a couple other houses, separated by trees, foliage, and other growth. As isolated as one could get and remain within the city limits. And that was important. For her own peace of mind, and for the privacy needed to carry out her studies. After all, it was hardly conducive to good science or neighbourliness to have her project peeking into view in all his leather or rubber clad glory. While she was quite proud of the progress he was already making, there weren't likely to be many who shared her assessment of his beauty. 

Heather was sitting in front of her computer, her fingers click-clacking away at a steady pace. Soft classical music flowed in the background, making for a soothing, relaxing atmosphere. Every now and then she paused, a smile tracing across her face, as she shifted in her chair. Whatever errant thought had gone through her mind at that moment, she remained focused on her report. So much to compile, just from the few days she had moved on to Phase Two. Truly incredible progress, suitably ahead of her modeled projections. She made a mental note that Liam deserved a reward for that. Such an obedient little lab rat for her. After that little bout of resistance, which she couldn't truly blame him for (after all it was a more immersive project than he had been expecting), he had spiraled rapidly. Quite nicely as a result of his penchant for rubber and leather. 

She grinned. It helped that he looked drop dead gorgeous as her rubber slut, or leather bitch. And his expressions, when she let him reveal his face to her outside of a hood, always made her internally squeal. Such an alluring combination of emotions would colour his face, with the predominant one always ending on horny. And she was happy to oblige, to tease him towards release and always ending just shy of it. Beyond her own enjoyment, a thoroughly horny slave made her work much easier. Rebellious thoughts played second fiddle to orgasmic bliss. And now that he had gotten a taste of what a bound orgasm felt like, he had behaved within her instructed parameters. And today he would get a shot at a new sort of relief.

She enjoyed his frustrated squeals and moans when she denied him, and he cleaned so damned diligently when there was a chance his reward would be a half hour of her caressing and touching him. A most impressive specimen all around.

Occasionally a hand would dip below to rearrange something below her, before returning to her writing. She had already completed her draft of the initial phase of Liam's descent into bondage slavery. The only other noise came from under her desk. Occasional whimpers and wet sounds, usually following or immediately preceding her hand descending out of sight. She suddenly gripped the edge of the desk, breathing a little heavier, one hand going under her desk and remaining under. With a single hand she laboriously finished the final paragraph that she had been working on, and then she leaned back away from the computer,

"Finish me, slave."


I only dimly heard her verbal command. I had been squeezed and pushed into the hollow portion of her desk, still wrapped up in my rubber catsuit, the press and constriction of leather bondage making my heart hammer in my chest with lust. My caged cock pressed against its confinement, demanding to be freed. Demanding satisfaction. A different hood enclosed my head, this one with only an opening for the mouth, and two small nostril ones. It was meant for really only one thing. As I edged forward I felt her hand circle around my head, and then press me back into her wet mound. I moaned as my mouth found her again, and began to thrust my aching tongue into her once more. Driving her ever closer to another freighted orgasm. I moaned into her her, the vibrations of that sending pulses of pleasure through her, causing her to moan in turn.

"I...I think...I'll...oooooo...need to ma-make this a regular thhiiiinnnnnggg," she gasped, pressing my head more firmly against herself, her legs wrapping around my torso and bound arms, "You certainly know how to keep my mind focused on the task at haaaaaaaaaaaaand...." with that last word she thrust herself into me, nearly screaming with pleasure as she came. I did my best to continue, but found most of my effort concentrated on breathing properly as she pulsed and quivered around me.

I groaned, feeling my caged dick pulse in mute testimony. I felt like I was going to cry from need.

"Such a...a good boy." she breathed, releasing me enough to sit back on my knees. I drew in deep breaths, happy enough that my tongue was given a rest. I heard movement around me, as she slowly lowered herself to wrap her arms around my shoulders, and planting a deep kiss on my lips. I gave a surprised, "mmp!" as she fiercely tongued me, the ebbing passion from her orgasm still enough that it would have knocked me back on my heels, if I hadn't already been there. She continued to kiss me as her hands groped my rubber enclosed body, paying special attention to my ass and caged cock. I moaned with desire every time she ran her fingers across the cage, frantically making tiny thrusts forward, as much as I could given the confined space.

"You want to cum?" She breathed throatily next to my ear. I moaned loudly, "Yeeesssssssss, oh God yes Mistress...pleassssseeeee..."

She gripped my cock cage, her other hand hauling me forward by the collar. Her tongue briefly kissed the inside of my ear before she continued, "Then I want you to go further, come deeper with me. Will you...Liam?"

I shuddered in my bonds, in her hands, my head already nodding jerkily. I needed relief. I had to, needed to, cum.

"Tell me. Say the words out loud, my sweet slave. Let me hear your submission."

"I..." I felt another shudder pulse through me as she gripped my caged cock again, and I moaned loudly as I managed to blurt out, "Further and deeper Mistress! Please...please!"

I felt a leash snap onto the collar. A finger curled under my chin to give it a playful flick.

"Then let's get you set up properly. I have a new session type to try with you." I heard her give a few final taps on her keyboard, and then felt an arm under my own to help me upwards, "I think you'll enjoy it Liam. It offers the ability for you to have a release."

I gave a loud relieved moan, babbling my sightless thanks to her as I tried to look over to where she stood next to me. But my words ended as her mouth met mine again with another hungry, predatory kiss. Felt like she sucked the air out of me, and as I gasped for breath when her lips left mine, a ball gag was pressed into my mouth. I moaned against the rubbery intruder, but Heather just laughed and buckled it tightly on.

"It's going to be a long time before I let you orgasm without a gag on Liam. You make the cutest little sounds when you can't speak." She giggled and then gave the leash a commanding jerk. I stumbled after her, moaning plaintively.

I blindly shuffled along behind her as fast as I could, as she led me down to the basement dungeon that she had painstakingly assembled in preparation for her thesis work. I could feel the cooler air of the basement tingle along my face. She had given me a tour of it, briefly, on my third day when she had wanted it dusted and swept in preparation for our use of it. Beyond that, I hadn't been in the room much. 

I came to a halt as I felt my legs bump into something solid in front of me. I moaned questioningly, and then felt her pull the leash downwards, forcing me to bend at the waist and press my chest into the soft covering of what had to be a bondage horse. Her hands trailed down my back and butt, before I heard her crouch down and begin securing my legs. Leather straps pressed around my calves and thighs, and the tinkle of new chains attached to my ankle cuffs. I gave a couple tugs with my legs, but they stayed rooted in place.

"Mmmmmmm," I moaned as her hands groped my rear, before sliding up to bring more leather straps across my back and waist. They were threaded under my arms, and locked down. I moaned again, squirming against my bonds, my heart racing faster, eager to finally have my release. My arms remained buckled up in the armbinder, squirming away. Heather continued to run her hands along my body, drawing further pleading moans from me, as they slowly traced down, down down. I felt one hand close on my caged cock, and almost cried with relief as I heard the snick of the lock being removed.

Heather laughed, "Awww, does my poor slave boy want release so bad?" Her soft hand closed gently around my half erect cock and began to lightly stroke it. I shuddered and moaned, desperately trying to thrust into her hand, but my restraints held me firmly in place. But I was already responding to her anyway, rapidly growing hard under her careful teasing. She cooed and whispered into my ear, her lips almost touching the hood, as she stroked me gently erect.

"You are my good boy, aren't you Liam?" She asked softly, giggling as I frantically nodded my head, "I'm glad you agree. Good boys get rewarded when their owners are satisfied with them. And I am veeeeery satisfied with your progress slave." Her other hand brushed against my balls before further tugging back the zipper of my catsuit, all the way to the small of my back. I moaned as her hand continued to stroke up and down, up and down, then gave a questioning whiffle as her other hand began to grope and massage my rear. Rather than skin it was covered in a latex glove which was a new one for me. I moaned and squirmed in my bonds, glorying in the sensation of her touches and caresses. Doing what I could to thrust myself into her hand. She just kept giggling and teasing me, before her hand on my rear disappeared for a few moments.

My eyes went wide under the hood as I felt it return, slick with lube, to begin massaging and rubbing along the crack of my butt, getting perilously close to my back entrance. I tried to buck against the restraints, but they held me firmly in place. I moaned, shaking my head back and forth. but her two hands kept up their ministrations.

"Remember Liam. Further and Deeper." Her gloved fingers traced closer, now on my rim, "You asked." Her stroking hand retreats for a moment and I feel more lube being drizzled across my hole, before returning to stroking. Her gloved finger began to press ever so gently, demanding entrance, "You agreed."

I arched my back, managing to lift my chest about an inch off the horse before the belts and straps halted any further progress. My eyes blindly stared ahead inside the hood, and I was whimpering in some odd mix of confused pleasure as I felt her slide a finger inside me. I could feel its every movement, every twitch it made, as she worked it into me. She kept up a barrage of softly spoken, comforting encouragement. Telling me how well I was doing as her finger pressed in deeper. Encouraging me to relax. To embrace everything I was feeling and surrender to the pleasure of being anally penetrated. And all the while she continued to lightly stroke my cock, keeping me aroused as I dealt with the novelty.

"You see? This is what this project is all about Liam. If I had asked you if you might enjoy something like this" she worked her finger drawing a deep moan from my gagged lips, "You would certainly have said no. But introduce a little bondage, take the responsibility of choosing, of appearance away, and you get a more honest response. You are rock hard and so very turned on just from one little finger tickling your innards." I moan and try to shake my head, and she giggled, "That's also why I keep you hooded, slave. You can enjoy all the wonders of sensation and pleasure without being troubled by having to look anyone in the eye. Honest reactions." She sounded so damned satisfied with herself.

She flicked the head of my cock and giggled as I gave a strangled grunt, "You see? Rock hard, slave. It feels so good to have something up your ass while I stroke your cock, doesn't it? To have me take away your control and make you hard and ready on my terms. How I want you to cum." I moaned and she gave me a soft kiss on the side of my head, "You love that don't you slave?"

I tried to shake my head but she just laughed, "Really? Really Liam? You want to try pretending this doesn't turn you on?" She worked her rear finger some more, flexing and shifting it, and I gave a guttural moan of desire, "Exactly. Don't pretend you don't love this slave boy, I'm barely even stroking your cock anymore. All that pleasure you are feeling is all down to your little backside visitor." I groaned and she laughed before planting a kiss on the side of my head, "Want me to prove to you what a slut for anal pleasure you are?"

I babbled wordlessly into my ballgag, scarcely knowing whether I was objecting or not. I couldn't. She couldn't. I wasn't...

But she didn't wait for me to come to any sort of resolution. She gave me a couple strong, firm jerks on my cock, and then removed her hand completely. Her other hand began to plunge that finger back and forth, almost out and then fully in. My eyes felt like they were bugging out of my head under the hood as I jerked and strained against my bonds, moaning and babbling like a crazed fool into my gag. Despite my muted verbal objections I could feel pleasure rising within me. My cock twitching and pulsing, seemingly in time with her finger thrusts. I could barely believe it. She was doing it. I was really...really....gaaaaaaaahhhhh

"Good boy...Good boy Liam, that's it. You wanna cum for your Mistress don't you? Don't you want to cum?"

"Mmmmmgggaaaaaaa!!"

"Well this is how you're gonna do it sweetie. My finger up your ass as your sole stimulation. Prove to us both that you love this. Cum for me. Cum for your Mistress, my gasping, breathless little slut! Cum!"

I screamed into my gag as I came, intensely, almost spastically jerking against my restraints as the wave of pleasure crashed over and through me. I felt my cock jetting onto the side of the bondage horse as Heather continued to pump her finger in my ass. I felt my whole body quivering as i twitched and jerked against my bonds, eyes squeezed shut in darkness. I moaned and panted in shamed pleasure, shuddering in disbelief that she had really made me cum like that.

"Goooood boy, Liam. Such a good boy for me." She was stroking my hooded head now, her finger still in my rear but quiescent for now. Then, as she stroked my head and kissed and cooed over me, she slowly withdrew the finger, prompting gasps and moans from me as I  shifted in my bonds. She gave my butt a pat as she stood up, trailing her hands over me before briefly leaving to get something. I tried to shore up the shattered pieces of my mind in the brief interim, but I was still barely coherent when she returned.

I felt her winding additional straps around my waist and legs, securing something hard and plasticky to the underside of my cock and balls. Another item was pressed hard against my rear, just barely not penetrating it. I sucked in a lungful of air, preparing to voice some sort of objection. But my mouth was met with hard rubber as she strapped my ballgag into my mouth. I grunted at her, tiredly trying to get across that I was done but she just patted my head in a maternal sort of way, "A major part of Phase Two will be acclimatizing you to the wonders of anal pleasure. I want you to lust after the sensation of having something up your ass while you cum. I want you to beg me." She bent down in front of me and began to kiss me over the gag. I moaned and then squealed as I felt the vibrators, that's what they had to be, suddenly roar to life. Sending pulsing waves of pleasure through my ass and crotch. The one in front had lighter caressing pulses, while the one in the rear drove vibrations through me in powerful waves. I squirmed in my bonds, moaning and bleating into my gag, as she chuckled and gave me another kiss.

"I'll see you in a few hours for supper. And, if you beg for it, maybe I'll stick something up your rear and let you cum again." With a final pat to my ass she left me there, writhing, moaning, and desperately wanting to be free of the pulsing teases coming from below.


I don't know how long she actually left me there for, but it seemed an eternity to me as I moaned, squirmed, writhed, and shrieked as her infernal machines kept me just, just on the edge of cumming. When she came back for me it took some time before my overwhelmed mind could process her soothing touches and whispered words. I moaned plaintively, wanting nothing more than to be allowed to cum again.

Heather crouched down in front of me, her hands holding my head as she pressed her forehead against mine. I moaned again, desperately pleading for mercy. I just...I needed...gaaaaaaahhh...

"You know how you get relief slave boy." Her hands rose up to tug down my ball gag, "Beg me for it."

I immediately began babbling at her, interspersed with loud moans as the vibrators continued their work at edging me. She let me carry on for a while as I pleaded with her to please please please let me cum, I don't care how, I know, I know, I accept, please Mistress please. Words to that effect anyway. My mind wasn't really concentrating on the words tumbling forth. All that mattered was that after a time my gag was cinched back in, Heather's touch gracefully arched along my body to my rear, and I was again brought to a sputtering, screaming, orgasm in her dungeon.

My reaction to that enforced hours long period of teasing anal stimulation, and what ended up being three orgasms, was quite well received by Heather, who began to immediately incorporate more of it into my daily routine as she had promised. At least once a day she would strap me down to the bench and play with my rear. I was torn between lust and shame, as she never actively prevented me from achieving orgasm, so long as she had a finger or, later, a plug in my rear. She started small, pressing small plugs into me, then settling me onto the Training Chair for my daily sessions while the plug vibrated and pulsed away. I now had several hours every day, locked away fro the world and freed of my chastity, where her devilish machines would thrust and pump away at me. The little freedom I had was in how many times I would strive to cum from the sensations. After the first couple of sessions all thought of trying to resist her Chair training fled my mind, deep into the bowls of my subconscious. 

It was...some number of days later, I wasn't quite certain, when the strapon made its appearance.

Some Time Later

I shuffled along the hallway, the rubber and latex of my maid outfit making soft squeeking sounds as they rubbed together. The only other sounds, beyond the soft classical music that seemed to always be playing, were the tinkle of my chains as I shuffled along. It was nearing 5pm. Just about time when Mistress Heather would be getting home. I felt a small thrill rush through me at the thought of her coming through the door. I had done everything she had asked, cleaned until the kitchen sparkled. I might...she could...would...reward me for it. Maybe...I shuddered with anticipation at the thought...maybe unlock me and let me cum...

I could dimly remember a point in time where I would have been shocked, dismayed, and angry with myself. Feelings of escape, of the need to break free. Hell, of burning shame at how she forced me to cum, begging for her to debase me while utterly helpless to do anything to prevent her. I grunted into my gag, giving my head a bit of a shake. That was behind me. Today was a good day with the possibility of reward. If I ended up being moody when Mistress Heather got home I would be put into Isolation. Not today. Not today. I repeated to myself over and over.

I heard the rumble of an engine just then, and scooted forward. That was her car. I carefully knelt down, the heels of my boots making it a touch more difficult. The chains between my ankle cuffs pooled underneath me, and I smoothed my uniform as best I could with my bound hands. And waited.

"Yoooohooo!" The door was pushed open and Heather, dressed in a respectable, professional outfit came bounding into the house, "How is my lovely slave maid this afternoon?"

"Goohh Mifftrefff" I mumbled through my gag. She stepped up close to me and unbuckled the ballgag from my mouth. As soon as it cleared my mouth I immediately ducked my head and planted two deep kisses on each foot, drawing an approving murmur from her.

"Good boy Liam. Now, did you finish your chores?"

"Yes Mistress. I cleaned the kitchen, and the living room."

She smiled down at me, running a hand along my jaw, "Good boy. And homework?"

"My two essays are also done Mistress. Waiting in the dropbox for you to submit to the professor."

She giggled, "Very good slave. Aren't you grateful you still get to complete classes from the safety and security of your home?"

I nodded, "Thank you Mistress." That had been drilled into me from the moment she registered me into online courses. Completing my classes and remaining on track for graduation was a privilege. Something that, if I was not suitably grateful over, and intent upon completing, could be taken away. The one afternoon she had come home to find I hadn't done my assignments out of what she termed "a fit of pique" did not bear repeating.

She pressed me to her legs at that point, before flicking a finger up. As I struggled up to my feet she grinned at me, "I have some great news for you slave, so I'm glad you were a good boy today and finished all your work." She waited until I was upright and then wrapped me in a big hug, "My thesis supervisor just agreed to accept my submission! So all my work, all our training, is now in!"

She was practically dancing against me, vibrating with excitement. I moaned at the sensation of her body pressed against mine. Goodness, I wanted her.

She drew back from me with another winning smile, "And that means that in one week we get to find out if I pass or not. So for a week...its playtime with your Mistress."

I gave a moan of desire, barely restraining myself from hip thrusting my caged cock into her. But she grinned at me all the same, "How about we have a late supper today slave. I think we both rather want something else just now..." Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she reached over to pick up a leash hanging from a hook near the front door. She snapped it to my collar, and gave it a teasing tug, "Follow me  slave. I'm going to rock your world."

Later, the two of us lay on her bed in peaceful quiet. Heather had been true to her word, teasing me with clever touches, whispers, and kisses until I had been near-boiling over with lust. She had thrown me down onto the bed then, pulling from the nearby bedside table a double ended strapon that she took delicious pleasure in slowly mounting herself open. Moaning and teasingly giggling as I watched in stupefied desire before she flipped me onto my stomach in a rattle and swirl of chains and squeaks of latex and rubber. And then she had taken me, our moans twinning together in her bedroom as she thrust into me, driving both of us towards a glorious orgasm.

"MMMMMMFFFFFFAAAAAA!!!" I screamed into my gag as I felt myself cum. The tempo of her thrusts never halted as she laughed at my loud moans of pleasure.

"Yes! Yes, Liam! Cum for me you little slut! Cum. For. Your. MIstreesssssss!!" She shuddered and had her own orgasm, leaving the word to trail off through her clenched teeth as she gave a final few pumps before slowing her rhythm down. Gradually, gradually, until it was a gentle rocking of her hips back and forth, accompanied by exhausted, but satisfied moans from me. Eventually even that gentle rocking ceased and she slowly, sensually, drew out the rubber invader from my rear, and stepped away from the bed.

She had returned, tracing me up into a snug but comfortable hogtie with leather straps and cuffs. She lay down on the bed, and pulled me up so that my head was resting in her lap. And there we lay, me in my bondage, utterly in thrall to this beautiful, devious, caring psych student. My enslaver. My captress. My Mistress. And Heather, gently stroking my head as she cooed at me about how wonderful I was and had been. How impressed with my progress during this Phase she was, and all her ideas for how she was going to reward me over the next week.

That was how I slowly drifted off to sleep. Bound in leather, wrapped in the legs and arms of my domme as she massaged and stroked my hooded head.



"Mmmph?" I slowly swam awake. That first night of pleasure had been followed by more, with days spent in exacting but still somewhat enjoyable service. Heather broke up the formally ironclad schedule she had maintained, instead larking about with me in tow to play all manner of kinky games. It had been...well, fun. Actually fun. Odd though it was, I had ceased to be resentful of her abduction, and her forced training. Perhaps that was simply overlong exposure. Perhaps the experience that she now put forth, wherein the harsher training regime was behind the both of us. Perhaps something else. All I knew was that I had actually enjoyed and nigh on reveled in the six days or so since that first night on her bed.

I shifted around. Something was different. When I had fallen asleep this time I had been stark naked and tied spreadeagled to her bed while she had rubbed me down with some marvelous oil that seemed to filch all the tightness and strain out of my muscles. It had been wonderful.

Now though, I was wearing clothes. Actual clothes. I shifted around some more, the unfamiliar feel of cotton and denim moving with me in ways that seemed odd now after so long wearing tight fitting rubber and latex. My wrists and ankles were still shackled with leather cuffs, and I still sported my ballgag and a blindfold. I shifted my shoulders and neck. Still collared.

What was going on?

I heard Heather bustle into the room. Without a word she hooked a leash to my collar and urged me up, leading me away. I tried to grunt a question, but she just ignored me and kept walking. Blindly, I followed.

I stumbled along after her until I felt her hand press into my chest to stop me. HUmming softly to herself she crouched down in front of me and undid my ankle cuffs, slowly standing back up and trailing her hands across my legs and torso. I moaned into my gag, and she giggled as she popped it out of my mouth to dangle around my neck. Next the wrists were released, and she guided my hands up to my blindfold. I froze up a little bit but she gently pressed my hands to the leather, drawing it up slowly, away from my eyes. I blinked in the sudden light, her face close to mine. She smiled at my confused expression and planted a gentle kiss on my lips, "Hiya Liam."

"H-hi...Mistress..." I looked around. I was in the front hall. "Uhhh..."

"Confused?" She giggled at my nod, "Well, I just got my news back from my supervisor." She was smiling broadly now, her hands still tracing up and down my arms and back, holding me close to her, "I passed. With distinction. She was very impressed and wants to talk to me about all sorts of things. But it does mean, for you, that that's it." She ran a hand through my hair, tousling it from its rather flattened state, "You officially completed a full semester as a psych test subject which, along with the online courses I had you take, means you have everything you need to graduate on time. Congratualtions!" She gave me a tight hug, one hand clenching my butt.

"I...what?" I blinked, returning her hug with a cautious disbelief, "You're...you're letting me go?"

"Of course! I need to finish tweaking my data, but you need to get ready for graduation." She smiled and then gave me a teasing wink, "Even if you would look adorable sitting with me on the couch watching the ceremony all tied up and helpless, you really shouldn't miss it."

"I..." I really, truly, did not know what to say. I just stood there gaping like a fool as she patted my arm, gently guiding me to the door. She unbuckled the wrist cuffs and gag, dragging out a pair of deep kisses and ass grabbing before finally unbuckling my collar. I couldn't help but tremble as it left my neck, the one constant of my life for the past few months. Gone. Just like that.

She hugged me again, "I'm so proud of you Liam! I'll be watching you walk the stage, and strutting your stuff!" Another smile, and then the door closed with me on the outside. She was gone. I was...free.

Epilogue: Graduation

The dim roar of thousands of people talking and snapping pictures ebbed and flowed as the door opened and shut again. I stood in the hallway with a bunch of other students, hardly believing that I was here. Hell, I felt oddly out of sorts. I could almost feel the ghostly remains of chains and cuffs pressing upon me. Of the slick sliding sensation of latex and rubber. The grad gown I wore hardly seemed proper, but then, not much did since I had left Mis...Heather. Just Heather. I had to remind myself of that. Her programme was done. In spite of all my fears, and secret hopes towards the end, I was free. She had let me go from what had to be the most insane study proposal the university had ever agreed to. That she was apparently lauded by her department for all her work and what had gone into it firmly convinced me that avoiding psych teachers would probably be a wise idea.

I looked around at the other students, how they laughed and joked, nervous to go up on the stage. I was too. Just a tad. Not that I had any concerns about my academics or where I stood. Heather had been true to her word, all of the online course work I had done, and credits accrued by being her test subject, had rocketed me ahead of many of my peers. And really, after what I had been through, this should be a cake-walk. But still, crowds made me nervous.

The line inched forward bit by bit, giving me plenty of time to sink into my own thoughts. Which inevitably turned to Heather. I was just remembering one of her more inventive games in that last week, when my feet bumped into the stairs. Crap. I was next!

The whole stage walk passed in a blur of lights, the click-click of the official photographer, and the congratulatory handshakes from several university staff and professors. A brief thought flitted through my mind, that Heather might actually be watching from somewhere to see me graduate, but I shook it off. There was no way i would be able to pick her out in the sea of humanity in front of me anyway. I smiled the whole time, and it did feel good. But I was glad enough to tramp down the exit ramp, diploma in hand. A couple of additional pictures followed and then I was done.

I wandered out of the gymnasium, taking my time in the warm late spring sunshine. I had an hour or so to kill before I had to be anywhere really, and that was just for the general post-grad cocktails and dinner. Which I could always skip I supposed. Thinking of not much at all, I was nonetheless still distracted enough as I turned a corner into a shade darkened small bridge-tunnel that I ran smack into someone.

"Ooof!" Their arms swung around me as I grunted, "I'm real sorry Ma-mmmpph!?" Their arms, apparently flailing with a purpose, slapped something across my mouth. Tape. Tape!? By the time my reeling brain had identified that I was now gagged, albeit lightly, my attacker had already slapped a pair of handcuffs onto my wrists, cuffing my hands behind my back.

"MMMmmph??" I demanded, "Leefff meeee ggoooo! Mwwaafff eee eeelllll??" I jiggled my wrists, demanding an explanation.

Then a giggle. I froze. It couldn't be.

My attacker pulled away from me, and I got my first good look at them. I knew that laugh. I knew that grin.

Heather!

I moaned in surprise and she laughed again, "Surprised to see me Liam? I told you, I wouldn't miss seeing my boy strut his cute little butt across that stage." She took me by the arm and began leading me in the direction I had been walking, but then cutting a left at the end of the tunnel to walk towards a parking lot. I stepped along with her, feeling no real need to struggle against the cuffs that held me fast as she chatted about how wonderful I had looked up there, asking how I had been (She seemed to grasp my gagtalk), and other bits of small talk made surreal by my bondage.

"Anyway," she had come to a halt behind a large white panel van, leaning against it to take a break, "I'm sure you're wondering why this is how we are meeting." She gripped my cuffed wrists and smiled. I nodded, and she pulled me in tight so that I was pressing my hips against her.

"Well, I know I said I was letting you go and that was final and everything. I just ran into an eeeeeeensie little problem."

"MMmmmphh??" She grinned and reached up to slowly peel the tape off my lips.

"What problem?" She looked at me for a moment more with a raised eyebrow, "Uh...Mistress?"

She nodded, the smile returning to her face, a faint frown of exasperation colouring it, "Not a problem I guess, more an opportunity that I really wish had come around earlier or later."

I frowned and shurgged my shoulders as she fished for something in her bag, "Well much as it was nice to see you again Hea--Mistress, I actually nee-mmmmphhh!" My little speech was suddenly cut off as she thrust a ball gag into my mouth, sealing away my objections behind red rubber.

I looked at her with wide eyes and she waved a hand, before diping it into her bag once more, "I know, I know. But the opportunity does mean that I have to take you back." She brought out two pairs of leather cuffs which were attached to my elbows and wrists, bringing my arms tightly back, "Original experiment data is needed to test against, and expand. All that, but!" She finished buckling the cuffs and turned me back around, my thunderous expression now a blend of resignation, anticipation, and fear, "But, but but! Good news!" She shuffled me to one side and opened the back door of the van.

Whatever I had expected to be in the back was not there. The inside had been completely padded and then overlaid with with soft leather, making for a soft and comfortable small room. No seats at all apart from driver and passenger who were separated from the back by a wall. The walls of the van had a good sized selection of leather bondage gear, rope, and a small choice selection of sex toys racked along both sides. My eyes though were drawn almost immediately to the fact that there was another person back there.

She was still in the remains of her grad outfit, including the red gown. This was bunched up and bundled around the tight bands of rope that encircled her arms, torso, and legs, placing her in a stringent hogtie. Her chestnut brown hair was braided with rope and pulled back in a ponytail conneced to her bound ankles, forcing her head to remain up and pointed at the back door. An involved panel gag covered most of her face, save for her dark eyes that were wide with shock, anger, and perhaps something more. She moaned as the doors opened, and then moaned again upon seeing that it was not rescue, but her captress with another kidnapee who was there.

"This time you get to have company!" Heather pressed me up into the back of the van, carefully shutting the door before coaxing me onto my belly, "Liam, say hi to Louise, your new fellow slave-in-training!" 

I moaned something that could credibly have been a greeting. The girl's eyes darted back and forth between me and Heather, her mind clearly scrabbling for purchase. Now that I was in the van I noticed the thick black collar locked around her neck, a virtual twin to my old collar. Heather busied herself lashing my legs into a frogtie with straps, before, with a sly grin, producing mt old collar from a small velvet bag, "Let's get you properly attired then slave boy. The full outfit will have to wait until we get back, but at the very least you can have your old collar back."

I felt the familiar sensation of leather wind around my throat, and felt my body shudder at the snick of her lock closing it off. I had been captured again. I had bloody well walked right along with her into her kidnap van with barely a peep! What the hell was wrong with me!?

Heather patted my head as I moaned and then turned to liberally grope Louise's ass. The girl moaned and squirmed, trying to shift away, but Heather kept at it, touching her and whispering to her as she had with me, until the girl's moans became ones of pleasure rather than fear.

"Good girl. You're already learning." She sat back on her haunches to watch the both of us struggle and moan at her feet, a good natured leer on her face, "Well my two cute captives, here is the deal. I've been offered an opportunity to expand on my thesis project, fleshing it out into a larger book. To do that there will be a rather lengthy experimentation phase, to ensure I gather all the similarities and differences between the two of you. And then of course," she giggled, "All the revisions, re-writes, and so forth."

She leaned down to plant a kiss on our gagged mouths before standing up, "The three of us are going to be enjoying one another's company for a loooong time. I can't wait to get started!"

Louise turned her head as much as she could towards me with a plaintive look in her eyes. I just moaned, and closed mine.

Like it or not, Heather was bringing me home.

I wonder how long it will be for this time?