The email wasn’t changing no matter how hard she glared at it.

We expect all employees to return to in-office status for at least a majority of each week.

Bloody pricks. The lot of them.

Irena rose from her office chair, clutching at the side of the desk for a moment as her head spun. Back in the office. Exposed. She realized she was chewing at a nail and forced her hand away from her mouth with a snarl of effort. She had known this was going to happen eventually. Expected it sooner if she was being honest with herself.

At first glance one would think Irena was the consummate young professional. An elegant woman in her late twenties, she never left home without ensuring her dark red hair was carefully done up in a professional braid or bun. Never failed to wear an outfit that seemed to effortlessly enhance her figure, giving her a sense of power and authority even though her relatively average height left her shorter than most of her co-workers. Her green eyes could exude warmth and understanding, or frigid resistance depending upon her mood. To her friends and colleagues, Irena was the calm, collected, and devilishly intelligent woman they could all rely upon. She was solid. Stable.

But that didn’t save her from the tidal wave of anxious energy that seemed to be gathering itself within her. Nor from the rising whispers in her mind. All the things that could go wrong. The increased risk. The seeing people in person once more. The thousand details of social interaction that she had gratefully discarded during isolation. All back. All on her shoulders again. She rubbed at her face and then tugged fitfully at her messy braid. She hardly knew what to do with her hands. It was all too much.

Far too much.

She hugged her arms to herself, strangling the urge to whimper as she rocked back and forth. Pacing in front of her computer like a caged beast. A caged beast in silk pyjamas. With little stylized hearts and puffy clouds.

Irena needed relief from these feelings. She needed her safe place. Her rock in the storm of life. With a moan that was just shy of frantic, Irena stumbled out of her office. Down the hallway, past all sorts of certificates and commendations from her schools and workplaces. The pictures of happy gatherings of friends and family. Past the tidy kitchen, her small cozy dining room, and the living room with its carefully arranged furniture and entertainment centre. Past all the trappings of her constructed life. To the door at the end of the hallway, the only one in her home with a small discrete keypad underneath a final picture.

Her portal.

She gently touched the picture for a moment before shifting it aside to punch in her code into the keypad. A soft click sounded, and she pressed forward through the door. Not running. She would never run. But…close.

The interior of the room was the first thing to calm her. All shades of dark red, highlighted in black. Light seemed to be caught and held, unable to escape the room. Tastefully positioned wall sconces glowed with muted light, almost seeming to be flickering torches. It was simply furnished. Two large wardrobes were immediately to her left as she entered. A small attached room housed a minimalist bathroom. Along the wall next to it was a small inset treadmill with a few links of dangling chain hanging over it. And immediately in front of her, a large bed with flanking sidetables. And on the bed…her rock. Her port in the storm of life. Her safe place.

Her boy.

He was a part of the room, naturally enough. Dressed from head to toe in black rubber, her favourite. His legs encased in black rubber ballet heeled boots, and then strapped tightly together at the ankle, calf and thigh with thick dark red leather belts. The faint bulging outlines of his chastity cage could be made out through the thick rubber of his catsuit and, were she to turn him over, the faint outlines of the end of his butt plug could be caressed. A broad black rubber belt encircled his waist, with numerous d-ring tie down points that would tinkle merrily with any movement. The rest of his torso was consumed by a large rubber straightjacket, which defined his body while also constricting it utterly. His arms were strapped tightly across his body, with two small belts then holding them snugly against his body. Taut ropes were attached to points along his legs, waist and at his shoulders which were attached to the bed, ensuring that even if he began squirming he would remain stuck. A posture collar held his head firmly in place, which itself was covered with a thick, involved hood. A plug gag custom fitted to his mouth kept him quiet, the hood’s blindfold cut his sight off, and the special ear pieces ensured that he would only hear what she wanted him to hear.

He was, in short, a bondage fetishist’s dream come true. A vision of lust, desire, and kink, displayed there for her viewing pleasure alone. She could do anything with him, to him, that her heart desired.

Anything at all.

Irena flung herself onto the bed with a sob of relief, landing virtually on top of her bound boy and hugging herself tightly to him. Her legs wrapped as best they could around his own, and she clutched him, pulled him, into her, burying her face into his shoulder and posture collar. She shuddered against him again and again, feeling the whirling torment within her tearing at her. Trying to climb higher, to seize control over her faculties. But it couldn’t. Not anymore. She had her boy with her now.

A muffled moan sounded from within his hood, and she couldn’t help but let out a strangled giggle. She had woken him up. The giggle stopped the onset of another sob at least, and Irena gratefully buried her head back into him as she felt around blindly with her hand for the remote. She could feel him cautiously moving beneath her, stretching out his muscles as best he could. Pressing himself gently back against her. Reassuring her with his active presence. Reinforcing her battered peace of mind with his bound, controlled existence.

She placed a gentle chaste kiss against his rubber hooded cheek. He was so good to her.

Finally her questing hand found the remote, and she shot a confirming glance at it. His sleepy playlist was still running, a mix of soft ambient noise, music, and her whispers threaded together to make for a relaxing repetitive experience whilst he slept. Irena paused it and flicked the button that would let her speak directly into his ears.

“Sorry to wake you Pet, but I needed you.” Her arms tightened herself against him again and her voice caught, “They’re…they…they’ve decided to…to move ahead with the back to the office thing.”

One of the best things about her Pet was that he knew her, probably more than anyone else in her life. She didn’t need to haltingly explain why that was such a big deal, like she would with her friends or parents. She didn’t need to carefully dance around how vulnerable she felt, how on edge things could make her feel. No. Just that sentence and her boy squirmed infinitesimally closer and gave a supporting, and understanding, grunt into his gag.

“I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t be taking it so hard. I knew this was going to happen eventually.”

“Mmmm Mmmph.”

“I know.” She wiped at her eyes and gave his hooded countenance a smile, “I know it’s normal. It’s just…” She dropped her head back down to press her forehead into his, “It’s just I’ve felt so much better being at home. Working at my own pace. And…and having you so close.” She felt another shudder run through her and squeezed her eyes shut, before whispering, “I don’t want to lose that.”

“Mmpphh Mmmmm. Iiffh Hhhmpph.”

Irena gave a shaky laugh and pressed herself to him again, this time without the wracking shudders, “I know that dummy. And you’ve kept me sane. But it was just so easy during the lockdowns.” She flicked gently at the single d-ring on the front of his posture collar, “It’s just going to be such a big change, not being able to see you whenever I want. And I hate it.”

“Mmmpph.”

Irena gave him a playful not-so-gentle poke in his rubber-protected ribs, “Don’t go rolling your eyes at me.”

He squirmed around beneath her, not really moving that much but disturbing her position enough that she gave him a few more pokes to the sides. Which only increased his squirming in place. And so Irena shoved aside her fears for the future and set to tickling him with a will, poking and prodding in all the spaces she knew would set him to howling with laughter beneath all the rubber.

It didn’t last long of course, it rarely did when Irena was upset. But it did further blunt the edges of her panic. Enough that she could snuggle in next to him as his chest heaved and he made little mewling sounds into his gag as he recovered his breath. Enough that her brain quieted down, so that his presence could calm her. Enough to force the myriad voices that tormented her back inside their box. A temporary fix, but one she was relieved for, as she snuggled in around him, an arm and leg tossed possessively over him. It was moments like these, in the golden period after he had calmed her down from whatever fears had waylaid her, that she truly recalled how lucky it was that she had found him.

After all, it wasn’t really that she wanted to date him. She had never even considered him in a romantic light, despite the highly sexualized bondage she now kept him in. A not inconsiderable part of that was simply that she didn’t want others to be involved in his life. The bondage, the confinement, the sensations, all combined to keep his mind on her. And helpfully cut down to the bone the amount of outside interference in his life.

Really, when it came right down to it, Irena wanted to own him. Needed to own him, really. He belonged to her, ever since she had met the shy boy in high school.

In high school their lockers had been next to each other. When she had encountered him on that first day of school, something about him as he stood awkwardly next to her between classes had drawn her to the boy. Some sharp, stabbing need that cut through the chaos of her thoughts made her want to control him almost immediately.

It had started out small. Imperious requests to carry her books. Getting her food at lunch time. Organizing study materials for her. That sort of thing. All of which he did for her with the barest of protests. In return for which he got her smiles. Murmured compliments and thanks. Even pats on his head when she could do it without becoming the awkward centre of attention. She felt better when he was close by. Calmer. He quieted the noise in her head just by being there. And when she realized that, when she began to have a taste of the energy she had without all the mental strain she often fought with, Irena became almost inseparable from him.

Irena would invite him over quite often from then on, using the excuses of study sessions. Her parents were gratified as after only a month or so of these sessions their daughter’s attention span and work ethic had improved so well. Her grades tracked upwards, and she always seemed so much happier after a visit. So the boy was welcomed over each time happily enough.

Irena wanted him to stay for as long as possible though, and quite beyond what was often rather short study sessions. With the boy present, she could truly concentrate and grasp concepts clearly and with little difficulty. The actual studying together normally lasted only for a couple hours before she was finished, and her boy would be on his way. Irena wanted  him to stay and at first tried to find other things for them to do. Other hobbies or games to entice him to remaining with her. And though some of them worked, they never lasted as long as she wanted. The boy would leave, and she would feel...frazzled. Alone. Fuzzy. Eventually, she found a solution.

After her study sessions were complete, rather than breaking out a board game or some such thing, she would go to her closet and retrieve a small black bag and a chair. The boy, she was already beginning to think of him as ‘her’ boy, had confessed early on to a fascination with being tied up. The old cartoons and comic books were his muse, but Irena was happy enough to oblige if that kept him from complaining about being kept by her side. So she would bind his wrists and ankles with soft rope, and then blindfold him. For the remainder of his visit with her he would remain bound, enjoying himself in the simple ropes under her watchful eye. And she could get on with her day, safe in the knowledge that she had her boy.

Homework could be completed, chores dealt with, and hobbies pursued while her boy was securely bound in her room. Or in her closet if she wanted to chat with her friends. These games were just for the two of them after all, something both of them instinctively guarded from anyone else.

Over the years this continued. Irena slowly expanded the amount of rope she used, adding chest and waist bindings to keep her boy secure. She also cautiously explored her boy’s shy request to change up the position sometimes, carefully researching and then practicing a hogtie as their chosen alternate position. A few times she even daringly kept her boy roped up and hidden, telling her parents that he had left before calling his home and having the boy request a sleepover. The only choice he was given in this was whether he would be kept bound to the chair for the night or hogtied on the floor. Those nights were the best sleeps that Irena could ever remember having. And then in the morning she would grant a brief period of stretching before the ropes would go back on and she could get on with her day before releasing him for good around lunchtime.

Irena did her best to make sure he wasn’t bored by the long hours in bondage. Even for someone as fascinated by it as her boy was, she tried to find things for him to do. She made him music mixes that he could listen to while bound, and she began allowing him to have the blindfold off to watch her game whenever he was staying late.

By the time they were in their final year at high school Irena was dictating what he was allowed to wear to school, forcing a sense of fashion on him. She required him to participate in one sport per semester to keep him fit and flexible, while making up for the long hours he spent stationary in her bondage. She had him volunteer to complete chores at her place, mowing the lawn and other outdoor activities which gave her further excuses to have him over. Her parents paid him, and he would hand the money over to her when they were at school. After all, getting too much money might encourage him to pick up hobbies that took him away from her.

It was during their last year of school together that she discovered just how much she had come to rely on the boy to keep her steady. A week-long trip out of town on a family vacation. She had grown so used to feeling collected and confident that her boy was actually the one most nervous and downcast at the extended absence. She assured him that she would see him soon, and told him not to pout so much. Her breezy confidence began to fray on the third day. By the fifth she found herself becoming distracted or annoyed by the slightest things, and unable to sleep for long. By the seventh day, when she returned, she was becoming frantic. She needed her boy.

Irena had stormed up to her room, her face intent on her phone as she blasted texts to him, ordering…begging him to come over immediately. She had slammed open her door, and stopped short. It felt like her eyes bugged out in shock. There was the chair, in its central place. There was her boy, in his place. His ankles and calves corded up, with more rope across his waist. His blindfold firmly in place, and his hands cuffed behind him. Her boy, bound and secure, in her room. She had fairly leaped into his lap, burying her head into his chest as she wrapped herself around him. Holding him close. Calming herself. Mumbling muffled thanks into his chest while the panicked jitters shook themselves out. It took a while, and her boy murmuring calm reassurances that he was there, but she eventually felt normal enough again to wrap a few more ropes around his chest and arms before steering him into the closet. That night she slept peacefully for the first time in a week. It took all her new-found strength and calm to not keep him for that entire weekend.

When she found out later that year that they were both headed out to the same university, she took it as a sign. Something truly meant to be. For the final few months she threw herself into all the work she could get outside of her schooling and her time at home with her boy. Every penny she could was ploughed into her project savings. Every spare moment spent planning. Sometimes even while he was tied up in her closet, or hogtied and rolling around on the floor. Irena felt a little thrill during those times, how she was planning the future. Their future.

It wasn’t difficult to get him onboard with the idea of renting a place together, though she did leave him with the impression that there would be other roommates too. But the added financial support meant that she could get the place she wanted, the place that the two of them still lived in today. It meant she could head up in advance to oversee a few changes and additions to their new home before school was out.

There would be no dating for the boy. No exploration and taking advantage of the freedom that college brought to explore his feelings. That could take him away from her, and Irena needed him too desperately to allow even a chance of that happening. He was foundational to her life, the life she wanted for herself.

That single week away, without him there, had nearly driven her back into chaotic madness. Undoing all the progress she had made by having him close by, snug and secure, for most of high school. That single terrifying week had underlined in bold what awaited her without her boy. So she decided to take steps.

Once all their stuff was inside their new home, Irena had brought out her stout black bag. Her boy had been eager, excited. Their first bondage game away from home. Likely expecting something new, some new enjoyable addition. Irena had intended to deliver in spades, beginning their new games with raised stakes. She had bought him a pair of latex shorts, insisting that their new bondage games were going to be different. His eagerness to change into them cemented in Irena’s mind her need to get him packaged and secure before that energy departed her life.

She had carefully corded him up into a snug boxtie, before lashing his legs up to create a tight but not uncomfortable hogtie. As he began to squirm she had held him still and told him she wasn’t finished. That had perked his interest, and she had calmly walked back to her bag and withdrawn three more items. The first was a ballgag, which he eagerly welcomed. So eagerly that she began to think that he had been quite a bit more into bondage than she had previously thought. Next came the collar, a nice black leather one. When she told him that he was always going to be collared during their games from now on, he had let out a long happy moan. Which confirmed to Irena that her boy was definitely into this scene. She had smiled from behind him, running a hand through his hair. That would make things easier in the long run. The blindfold was almost an afterthought, but it did complete his first real encounter with what was unmistakably fetish play. Irena had felt a deep wave of relief once all three items were on him, and once it was clear that he really, really enjoyed the change. Her boy wanted more. She would give him more.

Irena had meant to go on about her day, leaving him there to squirm and struggle in his bonds for hours and hours with only minimal check-ins. But she couldn’t help but loiter around, reaching out to caress his head or parts of his bondage. Tugging on ropes, or tracing the lines of his collar or gag. She had become enthralled with the noises her boy made, and discovered to her surprise that she had wiled away nearly two hours. Irena had left him to it then, and gotten on with the rest of her prep.

His room had to be ready for him after all.

At the beginning she hadn’t been able to make it nearly so nice, with the appropriately sensual ambience. At the start it had been merely the bed, the attached bathroom, and a small bedside table with her bondage supplies kept within. But her boy had been ever so grateful at the start. When she had ushered him into the room, leading him on a leash with only his leg bondage undone, and told him that the games weren’t going to stop anymore because the day was over, he fairly melted into her hands. She had retied him on the bed, this time with his arms at his sides so that he could have a break, and then she left again. Retiring to take care of the hundred and one things that were needed to finish moving in. Registering with the university. And…altering her boy’s schedule. No need for him to be going off to class or anything silly like that. He could take his courses online. And they had had months and months of summer before either one of them was expected.

Plenty of time to accustom her boy to his new way of life.

Irena had known it needed to be a slow seduction. Even though every fibre of her being just wanted to keep him tightly bound at home and never let even a single one of his toes outside, that wouldn’t work at first. So she worked to establish a summer schedule for them. Something that would balance the increased intensity and duration of bondage with the veneer of a new university life. Her boy would always be in bondage overnight. That was not up for negotiation. While it was just the two of them around the house he would have his collar locked on at minimum if they weren’t otherwise playing. And Irena used his presence to summon enough courage to take them out exploring the local community, enabling her to get used to the place while keeping her boy close by.

It was during these excursions that she chatted with him about more restraint ideas. Probing for his hidden interests and getting a more detailed sense of what he wanted to explore. Of course, such discussions ensured that no matter where he was, or what he was doing, her boy always had bondage and kink on his mind.

It was on one of these excursions that they happened upon a local BDSM store. Irena had cajoled him inside, insisting that she wanted to get him a few additional toys. Once inside they had been met by the store owner, a gorgeous confident woman named Alice. She proved more than happy to measure Irena’s boy to get all his stats on file, and assured both of them that she specialized in custom orders. On that particular occasion Irena had her boy fitted for a nice leather bondage waist belt with accompanying chains and wrist cuffs. While he was happily testing out his new restraints, Irena had a quiet word with Alice to discuss her interest in future orders. When the two of them got back home, Irena calmly informed her boy that the waist belt and wrist cuffs were now a part of his ‘at-home’ attire. Still excited at the thought of real non-rope bondage restraints, her boy hadn’t even protested. Visits to Alice’s bondage shop soon became weekly treats for both of them, and Irena’s fetish stockpile had grown at a comfortable rate.

It was nearly a month later, well into Irena’s schedule of summer seduction, that she encountered her first real surprise. Her boy had been hogtied overnight, this time with a brand new hood with an attached ring gag. It had also been the first night when she had ventured to play a small audio on loop of her voice cooing to him about some kinky bondage things. She had hit upon the concept while reading fetish stories online, and found it rather stimulating. So she copied out some of the ideas, wrote a few of her own, and then recorded herself for her boy. Irena had set it up so that there would be at least an hour of the usual night time music and ambience before her voice kicked in. When she re-entered his room that morning to release him, she had frozen in place.

Her boy had been moaning. Loudly. In pleasure. And thrusting himself into the bed, in his hogtie. Irena’s eyes had been wide as she watched him writhe on the bed. She stayed rooted to the spot as she watched him finally get over the edge, and with a final shout of sexual fulfillment, her boy spurted out all over the bed. Irena had been at a loss. Her attachment to bondage had been all about ensuring her boy was secure and available for her. There had been little thought of the sexual nature of it all, apart from how that made it easier to enthrall and subjugate her boy. She was torn at first, standing there in the door. Angry with her boy for introducing change. Frustrated with herself for not thinking about this. And nervous about what might happen if it wasn’t addressed properly.

But now it was clear that her boy really did have needs when it came to playing as her bondage toy, and Irena had been neglecting that aspect of her seduction. If she wanted him fully under her control, his sexual needs would need to be assuaged in some fashion. So she had left him there, stewing in his bondage and juices, and placed a call to Alice to ask for some advice. The older domme had been quite happy to propose a solution. One round trip to her store, and a very informative conversation later, Irena returned to her boy with a chastity cage and a plan. Once his legs were untied, and the cage locked on snugly, her boy got to hear the plan. He would be allowed controlled orgasms, a minimum of twice a week, but from this moment forward was going to be in chastity. Just as Alice had informed her, her boy seemed completely enthralled by the idea and sunk deeper into submission as Irena took over his orgasm schedule.

Irena made a point to keep up weekly talks with Alice, plumbing the other woman’s deep knowledge about all things BDSM. Alice was especially helpful in instructing her on aspects of long-term training that would be important to address. It helped guide many aspects of her approach to acclimating her boy, and Irena gradually developed a rare (for her) friendship with the older woman.

The rest of that first summer had passed well enough, with her boy continuing to improve his ability to be in long periods of bondage. By the time the school year rolled around she had adjusted him to his schedule of almost always being in bondage, always being in chastity, and hardly ever leaving their shared home without her. Her boy’s outside life had narrowed to the university (where he attended his one in person class with her), Alice’s bondage shop, and a small pub near their place that she took them to on occasion. When indoors he was only allowed to wear something from the burgeoning fetish clothing collection Irena was curating for him. In addition to his wrist and belt bondage, Irena had added ankle cuffs that connected up to his belt, a thicker collar, and a nice ballgag. After all, it was his presence she needed and craved. She had to show him that she was in control of everything. Speaking in their home was a privilege; Alice had been quite clear that Irena needed to establish that level of natural control.

Their first Christmas holidays was a major test for Irena’s seduction. Since she had carefully selected the bulk of her boy’s classes to be online, he effectively had the entire month of December free. Which had meant, from Irena’s perspective, that he would be spending the entire month in close confinement and strict bondage. That was something her boy wasn’t willing to do. What had followed still seemed surreal to Irena, though it had been repeated often enough since. They argued. While her boy was locked in strict bondage, helpless as a newborn lamb, but still stubbornly intent on defending his position. Whenever things got too overwhelming for Irena she simply gagged her boy and hugged him close, needing to recharge and pause the argument. And her boy, bless him, had understood and accepted the enforced silence with grace.

For nearly two weeks in November the argument simmered along, with intervals of a couple hours or, in one case a full day, in between their clashes. Until eventually, they had had a breakthrough.

“…of course family is important to me dummy,” Irena had snapped, wrenching the hogtie rope a bit more forcefully than strictly necessary. Rope had made a come back in the last week. It let her really drive home her frustration with the whole debate, and her boy was liberally festooned with tight lines, “I just don’t see why—”

“That’s the issue,” her boy had interrupted, the wince at her binding plain in his voice. She remembered feeling ashamed for taking it out on him that way, but furious that he was making her do it by being so bloody stubborn. He tried to wriggle around to face her, but Irena had held him in place. She didn’t want to see an angry face. Not on him. Nor for him to see her own. She couldn't face that. He sighed. Loudly. “You aren’t seeing the issue here because you’re afraid.”

"Great. Perfect. Thank you Doctor Dummy." Irena cinched the hogtie in place as she bit out the words and, her eyes beginning to glisten with frustrated tears, grabbed the ballgag. She had positioned herself above him, hands dropping the orb to hang with pregnant promise in front of him. Just as she began to press it home her boy sputtered, “Wait! Irena…wait.”

She had paused then despite her mind screaming at her to silence him, to be done with the argument, the gag still hovering an inch from his mouth. She felt him squirm beneath her and then softly continue, “Irena…please. Come down here and let me say something to you instead of the bloody wall.”

That had drawn a snort from her, despite how she had felt on the verge of a breakdown. She had crawled off him and slumped down to the floor, facing away from him but with the back of her head in his field of vision. She didn’t want him to see the frustrated tears. The fearful tears.

A gentle, amused grunt came from behind her, “Well aren’t we just two peas.” Irena had twitched her lips in a ghost of a grin. “Look, mmmmm, have I ever given you any reason to think you’re going to lose me?”

Irena had twitched at that, and her boy ploughed on behind her, “I’d like to think I’ve proven that I’ll stick with you through thick and thin right? I’ve been enjoying this too, ok? You aren’t…” his voice had stuttered, “You aren’t going to lose me just because we go back home together for a few days alright?”

Irena had shuddered a little, and then turned quickly to wrap her arms around as much of him as she could reach, burying her head against his and sobbed, “B-but what if I do? What if…what if you decide you don’t want this anymore.” Her voice had softened to a squeak, “what if you decide you don’t want…me?”

Her boy shook underneath her. After a few moments Irena had realized he was laughing. She reared back, ready to lay into him as savagely as she ever had, but he beat her to it.

“Don’t…don’t want you?” Her boy wheezed, “Do you have any…any idea…any…” he paused, valiantly trying to get his breath back. The ropes made it a bit more of a challenge, but he managed eventually, “Do you think I just walk around letting whoever wants to tie me up?” His eyes caught and held her own, his voice stayed soft. Like he was speaking to a spookable little animal, “We’ve been friends for a long time Irena, and I have never, not once, abandoned you. Never even thought about it, even when you were a bossy little terror in tenth grade. Hell, most of high school really I guess.”

She giggled unevenly, shakily at that, slumping down against the bed and against him. One hand found its way onto his head and just rested there. Irena could feel the roiling ball of anxiety, fear, and anger slowly beginning to drain. His voice kept rolling. Slow, steady, methodically calming.

“I’ve been with you every step of the way. I know you need me close by, but I need to be able to go back and see my folks. Just a few days. You can come with me, and be right there with me the whole time. Give me that much, and I’ll be your indoor pet the rest of the month, ok?”

Irena had just laughed, a quiver to it that showed how close it was to a cry, “How the hell did you get so reasonable about things?”

Her boy had sniffed and said with an assumed air, “I? I am the most reasonable person in the world. People come, from near and far, just to gaze upon my reasonableness an-mmmffgh!” She had cut off what was sure to be a long melodramatic speech with the ballgag. She buckled it tightly around his head, and then cupped his chin to help him look at her. She smiled. Really, genuinely for the first time in two weeks.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Mmmmffphg.”

“Oh shut up.” She gently knocked foreheads with him, and he chuckled into his gag. She joined in, keeping her head pressed to his own, “Alright. Fine. I’ve been…I’ve been off kilter a bit over this.” Just that admission alone and the gentle understanding in her boy’s eyes lifted a weight from Irena’s chest. “Okay…Ok. So…” she had racked her brains, “How about a week. Back home. We’ll see everybody. Everything you wanna do there, we do. But I get something in return.”

He cocked his head to one side, “Mmmffgh?”

“Well no, having you to myself for the other weeks isn’t the same. I want a…little bit extra. It’s obviously way early for your Christmas present but…I, uh, kinda got you…a rubber catsuit.”

“Seerrmmighy?”

Irena grinned, feeling on firmer footing, “Well you love the stuff, and I like how it looks on you, so I thought why not as a present? Alice helped me pick it out and custom fit it for you. So deal is, you get your week around Christmas time to be with family and friends…with me. But the rest of the month, you are in that catsuit. Being my gimp, pet, whatever. Deal?”

He had nodded, smiling around his gag, and she had given him a quick grin in return. Then she blindfolded him. It was still time for him to chill in bondage for a few hours. But she did stay behind for a little while, massaging and caressing his bound body. She had still needed to calm down, and the sudden solution to their argument had surprised her. She had eventually felt sorry enough for the stringent tie she had imposed on him that she had let him out after an hour to be rebound more comfortably for bed.

December, for all the tension that had heralded its approach, turned out to be a wonderful month. Exams were taken and passed with aplomb. Preparations for the holiday were undertaken, made more fun for both of them as Irena’s boy slaved around the house in his bondage. And of course, spending all of his quiet time, and his nights, wrapped up tightly in his new rubber outfit. When the week came, he confessed to Irena that it felt strange to have nothing but his chastity on as they drove down to see their family and friends. Irena just smiled and patted the large black bag she had brought with her.

The visit passed in a whirl of dinners, outings, and enjoyable relaxation among family. Despite the chaos of it all, Irena found that she was able to weather it reasonably well. She was virtually inseparable from her boy throughout, in either of their family’s houses. Before she had known it, the week came to an end. Her boy had been right, and she had been wrong. Which meant, to her mind, she had to reward his willingness to be stubborn.

So as the two of them drove off at the end of the visit, Irena had headed over to an isolated little picnic area just off the highway. She got her boy out of the car, and marched him over to the trunk. Out had come her little black bag, with ropes hissing out of its interior as she quickly, methodically, restrained him. Nothing fancy or elaborate. A secure boxtie, calves and ankles, and then lowering him gently into the trunk. Where she traced him up into a snug hogtie before gagging and hooding him. “You were right about doing this.” Irena had told him then, stroking the rubber confined head of her boy, “So you get to be frustrated all the way home, where I’m going to let you have a wonderful orgasm before you get packed away again.” He gave her a happy, satisfied moan as he twisted in his bonds, and she had given him a final pat before slamming the trunk closed and driving them both home.

The next semester followed much as the first had, though now with significantly upgraded toys at Irena’s disposal. Her boy became increasingly constrained, his bondage more plentiful and elaborate. She saved up and managed to get a second suit from Alice by the end of the school year, allowing her to keep her boy as a gimp if she wanted to for as long as she wanted. Which, given how beautiful he looked in rubber, was quite often.

That second summer together, their one year anniversary of this more intensive relationship, on the advice of Alice, Irena introduced her boy to butt plugs “to help keep his sex drive up in chastity.” The plaintive pleasure wracked moans she got from him, and the fuzzy headed afterglow he described, made her confident in adding such devices more regularly to their play.

And so it continued, semester after semester, summer after summer. Irena’s boy continued down his spiral into being her permanent pet. Her boy in truth.

Until here they were. She a young professional climbing the ladder. He her helpless boy, caught in her web. University graduation was the last time he had really left the place in anything approaching normal clothes. Just about all of them had been disposed of by that point anyway, a few sets kept for critical visits to family around the holidays. She bought him plenty of audio books, even as she placed most of his physical belongings into storage. She used the graduation money that both of them received to install the in-ground treadmill, ensuring that she could exercise him for hours a day in extensive bondage. Before the pandemic had struck, she had even taken him on business trips with her. It had been a nerve-wracking thrill, transporting him in that special suitcase designed for her by Alice’s friend Claire. Trundling him along through train stations, into the trunk of cabs, and then up to a hotel room. Once there he could be safely strapped down to the bed, and she could be the brilliant young professional her colleagues and friends expected. All because her boy was with her, and always would be.

Irena snuggled in tighter to the tightly strapped and restrained body, listening to the calm, deep breathing as her mind spun gently down paths of memory. It still amazed her, thrilled her, that her boy trusted her as much as he did. That this gentle, smart, caring, perfect boy had willingly become her Pet, her boy, meant the world to Irena. That she could be calmed, reassured, by a few muffled words from him, by his stubborn, faithful presence was priceless. Her fingers stroked over him, over his bonds and gag, as she marveled at her good fortune.

Irena cared for him, in her own way. She got him his audio books, his music, because she didn’t want her boy to be bored. She exercised him according to a strict schedule, fed him a diet designed by Alice, gave him orgasms according to a schedule designed by Alice, because she wanted her boy to be healthy and satisfied. And she talked to him as often as she could, because he was the one person in her life she could trust absolutely. He completed her.

So in the end it wouldn’t matter that she had to go back to the office. None of the stress in her life mattered more than the fact that her boy was safe and secure, locked away in her home.

Irena had her boy. Her life was perfect.