I stumbled out of the bedroom, the heels that Mistress Eliza had put me into click-clacking along the floor as I moved. I moaned into my gag, biting down on the foam ball as I looked at the hallway. Some mud and marks, but nothing too bad. I could do this.

I still wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted me to bet three days…three days…of no sexy times with Mistress if I couldn’t deliver on cleaning the house. Three days of no pleasure had been her punishment for me when I had launched my first, and only, escape attempt in those first days of captivity. Three days of aching in my cage as Eliza had demonstrated to me the foolishness of such things, of the pleasures that I had denied myself by not being a trustworthy prisoner. It was a punishment that I never wanted to repeat, why would I with a Mistress like Eliza…and I had just used the prospect as a bet. As a currency. As a…

I gave my head a shake, realizing I was just standing there ruminating. I could faintly hear Eliza in the bedroom, moving around on the bed. It would not do at all for her to pop her head out and see her latex clad maid just standing there. I blushed and found a smile quirking my lips around my gag, hurriedly stepping forward towards the hall closet that contained cleaning supplies.

I could do this. I could clean this place and avoid three days of no sexy times. And if I couldn’t…

I shuddered as I opened the door, the feel of my latex skirt swirling around my thighs.

If I couldn’t Eliza was going to make my life a teasing, aching, frustrating, arousing hell…and that would be okay. That was fine, good even. It meant I was still here. It meant that Eliza was still here. Neither of us in the clutches of the Kraken organization that had come so very close to sundering us, perhaps forever, when they tried to take me. When they…

I growled into my gag, deliberately forcing that train of thought into a mental ditch. I was not going to think about that. I was not going to marinate in ‘might have beens’ and hypotheticals. Eliza had beaten them. Beaten them so badly that they were enslaving some of their own people, and banished them from her home. My home. Our home. Eliza had won, and I was safe.

Now quit moping around and get on with your day dummy. I giggled behind the gag, nervously, softly, but the sound firmed up my mental stability. I began to clean, scrubbing away at the muddy footprints first as my security plug pulsed pleasantly along. Very much set to “Good Slave” mode. After the madness of the Kraken assault, its filling presence in my rear was a comforting reminder. Accompanied by my collar and chastity cage, all three reminding me that I was owned by Eliza. By someone who cared for me. Someone who valued me as David, not simply a replaceable piece of property that could be disposed of at will. Eliza was my Mistress.

She would never abandon me. As she had so conclusively proved this morning.

Had I been set the task of cleaning the hallway, and everything else, when I had first…arrived…courtesy of Eliza, I likely wouldn’t have had a hope in hell. But, after all the time spent here, and Eliza’s exacting standards when it came to timely completion of chores, I actually had a shot. Even with the wrist and ankle cuffs and the clinking, hanging chains between them and the belt around my waist.

The hallway was rather simple, just mud and marks. The mud I scrubbed away with my cleaning gear, delighting in the soothing normalcy of cleaning in my maid attire. It helped keep me from dwelling too much on the events from this morning. I scrubbed, and cleaned, and washed the floors and walls, getting rid of every speck of much that the Krakens had brought in with them. Purging their presence, and making the hallway as close to what it had been in the moments before they got there. The marks required buffing out which I could do easily enough, and probably painting at some point, which would have to wait for another day. I hoped Eliza wouldn’t dock me for that. She was reasonable after all, about such things. Unless she was looking for an excuse to lock me away…

I shivered a little amidst the buffing at that thought. I still wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed me to offer up that particular…

No. No, stop it.

I gave my head a shake, mumbling into my gag at my thoughts.

Finishing up in the hallway, I gave it a quick look over. Eliza was still in the bedroom, but that didn’t mean I had all that much time. She might have already ordered whatever we were going to eat this evening, might have already removed a substantial amount of time…for if the delivery arrived that would be the end of me being allowed to work at my tasks. That would signal my success or failure.

And I so did not want to miss out on sexy times for three days. I wanted morning bondage sex. I wanted to be splayed out on the bed, or down on the padded table in the dungeon. Or taken in the living room, or while I dangled in her suspension rig, or any of the other wonderful ways that Eliza had shown me that she could take her and I into the realm of ecstasy and orgasm. I didn’t want to lose that, however temporarily. I wanted my Mistress in every intimate way…I wanted to feel that we were once more as we had been. I wanted to shove the Kraken invasion behind a wall of pleasure, and bury it beneath feelings of warmth, security, and Eliza’s control.

Wanting that, I needed to achieve it, and I furiously applied myself to cleaning and scrubbing down the stairs, doing so as rapidly as I could in my boots. My latex skirt swishing and swirling around me as I descended with feverish energy. The entryway was thankfully free of anything worse than mud and scuffs, allowing me to just keep mopping and vacuuming. Easy enough, and without constantly having to bend over and scrub at offending pieces of debris.

I got deep into the groove of cleaning as I slowly scrubbed along. Removing the muck and repairing the look and feel of my home as I went. The latex maid outfit a constant teasing reminder of how kinky and fetishy I looked. Hell, Eliza making me look at myself in the mirror, making me see how she clung to me possessively, had restored a measure of my own confidence and self-regard. I could acknowledge that I looked good in these sorts of outfits…and that I was wanted. Desired, by the person I adored. The person who had indicated in no uncertain terms by word and deed that I was hers. That I need never doubt her attachment to me. That I was safe, and treasured, here with Eliza.

That wonderful train of thought kept me pleasantly occupied as I completed my tasks in the entryway, and all along the hall leading to the kitchen. I paused there for a moment to survey the work to be done, leaning a little on the mop as I looked into the kitchen, and the living room. This would be more intensive work, there being plenty of scuffs, furniture overturned, and muck scattered around. Still doable within the time I thought I had, and I figured—

“There’s my industrious little slave,” Eliza’s voice came from the stairs. I flinched a little in surprise and turned, my eyes lighting up as I watched her approach me. She very deliberately looked around at the entryway, and made a satisfied little grunt as she smirked knowingly at me, “Someone is quite the cleaner. Does someone not want his cock locked away…?”

I shook my head, faint tinges of my blush evident around the harness panel gag. That brought another pleased chuckle from Eliza, who closed the distance with me to wrap an arm around my waist, tugging my collar’s d-ring with a finger to kiss the air in front of my gag. I whimpered, trying to press towards her for a real gag kiss, but she held me at a distance, her eyes sparkling with teasing pleasure. That dominant enjoyment of my own frustrated wants.

“I don’t want to distract you,” Eliza murmured, still preventing me from closing the distance to secure a kiss as she used her other hand to feel up my latex covered rear, “But I did want to make sure the plug was working properly, after all that stress this morning.” I groaned, the pleasant vibrations of the plug teasing me, just as her hand groped and caressed my butt. “Can’t be too careful Davey,” Eliza grinned, “I do want to make certain you don’t get silly ideas. Especially now that you’ve seen just what the house can do.”

I groaned, shaking my head. She couldn’t possibly think I was in any way thinking about escape after all that. I wasn’t…

She booped my nose, “I can see that silly brain of yours overthinking things.” She yanked my collar a bit, making me bend down so that my eyes were level with hers, “I’m only teasing sweetheart.” Her hand holding my collar caressed my jawline, her eyes steady on mine. Twinkling with amused, caring affection, “I know you aren’t. Hell, you probably can’t at this point can you? Even fathom abandoning your one-of-a-kind Mistress?”

I shook my head and grunted firmly. No. Never.

Eliza giggled, letting go of my collar and spinning me around to give me a sharp smack on my latex covered ass.

“Eeerrppgh!” I squealed into my gag, staggering forward a pace.

“Good. Because you are mine, and you are staying right here with me come whatever hell the world flings at us.” She giggled and gave me another light smack as I started to turn around, “Oh no, that wasn’t an invitation slave. You still have chores and a deadline. Unless you want me to be the only one cumming over the next three days…?”

I squealed and click-clacked away from her into the kitchen at speed as she laughed, “That’s what I thought Davey. Don’t dawdle now!”

I began cleaning in the kitchen with a greater sense of urgency, moping away at the Kraken muck. Eliza was down here now. That had to mean my time was probably ticking away at a greater rate. The clink and tinkle of my chains accompanied my movements more frequently now, and despite my long experience with moving in a restrained manner, my haste meant I was every now and then catching a hand or a foot as the chain snapped to its max extension. Eliza, as always, knew just how to frazzle me.

But I would show her. I paused for a moment, the moping portion done, and surveying the kitchen to determine what remained. I would show her just how awesome I had become at chores…I would beat this challenge. I would…I would…

I shivered as I suddenly felt the security plug notch up. Going from “Good Slave” mode to the, as I called it, “I’m Watching You Slave” mode. Eliza had gone into the living room. There was every chance she was sitting on the couch watching me on her phone. Of course, there was an equally likely chance that she had simply notched the security plug upwards as a way to make me think she was watching. She did love to mess with my brain after all. I shivered and blushed, looking around for the umpteenth time, as though I would somehow finally succeed in finding a camera in the kitchen. Nothing. Never anything. Damn she was good.

I set myself to scrubbing the counters, my mind still making strident mental declarations of success against the niggling doubts that were beginning to creep in. Doubts that abounded as I thought about Eliza’s delight in frustrating me, teasing me, and making me ache. Maybe she was actually keen on locking me away. Maybe that would be how she entrenched normalcy back into my brain, by removing orgasms for a few days to ensure I was properly concentrated on my role. After all, though there was sex aplenty, and other sorts of orgasms besides, Eliza always emphasized these were privileges, just as most of the enjoyments of my life with her were privileges. I happened to be good enough, obedient enough, and…I shivered and blushed at the thought…cute enough that I managed to earn quite a bit under her control…but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take it back for however long she pleased.

The kitchen took the longest so far, a hard thirty minutes of cleaning it back to the standards that I had absorbed from Eliza after weeks and weeks of captivity. I also had to finish the dishes that had been left behind from breakfast…a breakfast that seemed like it was from another day, another week, the Kraken assault on our home having done so much damage to my mental equilibrium. Those slowed me down, as I paused with every third or fourth dish as my mind swirled with gut churning possibilities. Of how I might never have gotten to do them at all if things had gone wrong this morning. Of how that time in the basement might have been my last as Eliza’s slave. Of how…gaaaah. I shook my head again, growling at myself. That wasn’t helping. I deliberately recalled how things had ended that morning. How the Kraken team had been bested by Eliza. How Prescott had been stripped and humbled, hell, how I had actually managed to fling some quasi-witty banter back and forth. Me! Witty! That thought alone made me weakly chuckle behind my gag, but allowed me to break from the quicksand of dwelling on the Krakens. I finished tossing the last of the soiled rags into the garbage just as I heard voices from the living room. Eliza’s voice…but others too. Was that…was that me?

I found myself slowing in my final moping of the kitchen. I couldn’t concentrate. I heard my gasps, my moans, my screams. I heard her giggles, her amused commands, her stern correction. I heard floggers, the rasp of rope, the squeak and squeal of rubber and latex. I heard Eliza’s exclamations of enjoyment over certain videos, certain pictures. “Oh I remember the first time you tried that”

I shuffled carefully over in that direction, doing my best not to make noise or interrupt. I made it to the living room and peeked in, finding Eliza was indeed on the couch, sprawled out in that unique Eliza way that was clearly comfortable, yet also incredibly alluring. I winced slightly as I felt myself press against my chastity cage, helped along by the purring plug in my rear. How the hell was she able to make me feel like that, without even being aware I was there? Eliza was just…special. Gorgeous, whip smart, devilishly kinky, and utterly invested in her care and ownership of me. Despite me being a slave, despite her keeping me bound, collared, and completely beneath her thumb…somehow I felt better than I ever had before. Somehow, Eliza taking me, training me, owning me…somehow that had bettered me, drawn feelings from me, in ways I’d never thought possible.

I twitched, shivering a little as I saw she was indeed watching the digital scrapbook of our time together. But she wasn’t watching just the most recent material…she was watching it from the start. From that first day when I had been terrified, and angry, and intent on nothing but escape. I watched as the pictures danced along the screen from those first weeks. Of the bondage that Eliza had put me through. Slave’s First Hogtie. Slave’s First Suspension. Our outdoor bondage walks. Working as her bondage maid. Being her Snuggle Slut. How she had teased me, dangled rewards before my flustered face, cooed and gently mocked my straining, angry eyes, reassured and comforted me as I screamed and wailed for release. Little videos of her teasing me in chastity. Of her watching as I crawled towards her, eyes on her in desperate hope for release. Of me sleeping, with her hand in the video, or her grinning face, captioned with ‘Poor boy is so exhausted.’ Or another, of her grinning as she showed off the Bondcon booking on her computer, while I was bound, strictly hooded, and kneeling beside her. Blindly unaware of the vacation she had planned for us, unknowingly propelling us forward to experiences that had changed me. Changed us both.

And through it all, through every last video and picture, I watched myself change. Shifting from that scared, angry, and unwillingly aroused young man from that first day, to how I was now. Or at least, just before the Kraken attack. I was content, I could see it in those final pictures and videos. I was happy, submitting to my Mistress and her training. When she caught me with her camera, snapping a selfie or a short little video, I didn’t refuse, or protest, or mulishly comply. I watched myself blush for the camera as she teased me with hands and words. I watched myself crack jokes, as Eliza hand-gagged me, or kissed me. I watched myself grin and squirm against her in happy bliss as she giggled and made teasing comments, and pressed herself to me.

I watched as we grew into each other, as I grew into her slave. Her boy. Her David. And she, as she became my Mistress. My owner. My Eliza.

“Awww, you look so happy in this one,” Eliza chuckled. I twitched my head in her direction, and she snapped her fingers, “Get over here slave, I don’t like loitering.” I scurried out, but noted the amused smirk on her face. She had known. Known probably the whole time. And that tone was not Eliza in discipline mode, but simply the amused domme who had just successfully caught me out.

Eliza looked at me as I knelt next to her, and raised an eyebrow, one of her hands gesturing to the dirty carpet, “I told you you had a series of jobs to do, didn’t I Davey?”

I nodded, a muffled “Yes Mistress” partially emerging from my gagged mouth.

Eliza smirked, tapping her phone. I looked down and moaned as I saw the delivery app opened to a time window. Counting down from forty minutes, “Well sweetheart…You’ve just managed to waste thirty minutes admiring yourself…and you have yet to finish here or the conservatory and not much time.”

I burbled apologies into the gag, giving her my puppy dog eyed expression as I incomprehensibly begged for understanding. For more time. But Eliza just shook her head, still with that teasing, domineering grin and flicked her fingers at me, “No, I gave you time Davey, you don’t get to ask for more just because you wanted to watch the scrapbook with me.” She curled a finger beneath my chin, her eyes twinkling with merry enjoyment at the predicament I had partially, partially I say, placed myself in.

“Now, you are certainly welcome to kneel here next to me and gawk if you wish…but I hardly think your cock is going to thank you for being so lazy…”

I moaned and spun around as quickly as I could, finding the hand vacuum in its niche next to a small cabinet. I began to crawl around the carpeted space, doing my best to still find every speck of Kraken dirt as I tried to recall the state of the conservatory. Did I see it? I didn’t think so, when walking up in my partial fugue state from the basement this morning. The other rooms hadn’t been too badly damaged. I could still do this. I could still beat this!

Eliza, for her part, continued to watch the scrapbook, taping new images and captions into the file with her tablet as she worked away. Though every time I looked up, I had the distinct sense that she was keeping an eye on me. On my squirming latex covered butt. On my flushed, gagged face. On the chains and cuffs that kept me prisoner. I shimmied a little more as I moved, deliberately adding a greater degree of sensuality to my every movement. I moaned into my gag as the security plug shifted and buzzed within me, heating me and arousing me, making my chastity cage feel ever more tight and snug as I strained to concentrate on my tasks. Strained to not simply collapse to the living room carpet and thrust, and moan, and attempt to orgasm even while locked.

Somehow I managed it. Somehow I got through cleaning up the last of the mess in the living room, all while being teased by my bonds, by the buzzing intruder in my rear, and by myself and Eliza on the screen. Hell, Mistress Eliza added to it throughout, though especially at the end when she rose as I did, and delivered a simple brush of her hand across my face, ending with a tug on my collar and the faintest kiss on the top of my head.

“Best hurry along my little slave maid. The sands of time are running out…”

I got to my feet and click-clacked my way out of the living room, through the now sparkling kitchen, and out into the hall to the conservatory. I stepped in, and let out a plaintive wail into my gag. The place was an absolute mess. A collection of pottery plant pots had been smashed by some great weight, spreading debris and dirt all over the space. One of the deck chairs that Mistress Eliza delighted to sit in as she teased me, hell that might have been the one she had backbreakingly bound me to after I tried to escape, had been destroyed by the same falling weight. Smeared glove prints abounded across the patio doors, speaking to some frantic effort to get them open by the Krakens.

I moaned in despair

There is just no way that I can clean this entire room in the time I have left, I thought in crushing realization.. I grabbed for a broom and started sweeping up the scattered dirt. I was still going to do my best. I wasn’t going to quit. Though even had I wanted to throw in the towel, there was simply no way Eliza would stand for me just lazing around and waiting out the clock.

As if on cue, Eliza sauntered into the conservatory, the smile that she turned in my direction all the indication I needed that she had been quite aware of just how messy the conservatory had been made. She moved off to the side, where she could still keep me in sight, and began fussing over one of her lemon plants. I was busy shoveling pottery and dirt, and for a moment didn’t realize Eliza had started murmuring to the plant. I did notice what came next though.

“What do you think lemon tree?” Eliza pondered aloud, “Will the slave make it in time?”

I moaned plaintively into my gag, mumbling muffled objections, but Eliza paid me no mind.

“Mmmm, there is quite a lot to clean its true,” She was stroking its branches, cradling one or two of the lemons that were nearly ripe enough to pull off, “He’s usually so diligent Lemon, but for some reason he got distracted.” She paused as though listening to a response, and then shrugged with a smirk, “That’s just it Lemon, he does know better. It’s almost as though he wants to lose.”

I made my objections to that crystal clear with the grunts and groans I made, but Eliza still ignored me…though I saw her smile grow with satisfied enjoyment at my frustrated and nervous state.

“We’ll just have to see I suppose Lemon, though you know I can’t abide layabouts…even if they are adorable.”

I blushed, still furiously sweeping as fast as my cuffs and chains would allow me.

“Cuteness is never an excuse, you’re absolutely right Lemon. Perhaps I should remind him of that?” She paused again, definitely delighting in how I shuddered and moaned, “Well, maybe I won’t have to. Three days is an awfully long time for him…I’m sure he’ll be much more attentive to his duties after he’s been denied and teased to within an inch of insanity…”

I shuddered again, nearly dropping my broom as I half turned towards her. Nearly ready to simply drop to my knees and beg for mercy. But though Eliza would no doubt enjoy the begging and pleading, I knew her well enough to know it wouldn’t do me any good. She had had me declare what the consequences would be if I failed, and was a big believer in following through on such punishments.

Gaaaah. Infuriating…Unfair…Cruel…Arousing…Titillating…Thrilling…

Wait…

That wasn’t right, gaaaaah…

I gave my head a shake, mumbling into my gag as I steadied myself. I looked around, having managed to collect all of the dirt and debris into a single pile. There were still a number of muddy tracks on the floor, and I’d done nothing yet about the glove and hand prints. I set my broom down and took a step towards the glass when a loud analog buzzer rang out behind me, making me squeal in surprise and spin around…nearly falling over as I saw Eliza standing within three paces of me with an amused smirk.

“It seems you dawdled too long slave. Put your cleaning tools away and come see me in the living room. Don’t worry, you’ll be finishing this job up tomorrow.”

I sighed into my gag and nodded in defeat. Eliza gave me another winning smile and sauntered back out of the room. Leaving me to put away my cleaning supplies, and then slowly make my way to the living room.

When I arrived, I found that the delivery driver had already come and gone. Waiting alongside Eliza was a hot, fresh, and utterly delicious looking pepperoni pizza, my favourite. I looked at the pizza and back at Eliza and mumbled something incredulous.

Eliza gave me another of her satisfied smirks, “What can I say, I know my boy. Now get your cute butt over here, I’m starving.”

I went to my knees before her, and she made a slow and sensual process of freeing me from the tight gag that had kept me silenced since leaving the bedroom. As the foam ball came free, and she set the whole aparatus to one side, I rolled my jaw and grunted with relief. Eliza ran a finger along my face, sending a little thrill lancing through me, and she tucked it beneath my chin,

“Ready for a pizza and movie night?”

I nodded, “Thank you Mistress…I…I just…”

She arched an eyebrow at me, making me blush, “Just…?”

I stammered for a few moments and then made an obvious effort to get a grip on myself, “I’m just happy. And grateful.” I shuffled a little closer on my knees, pressing myself to her, “Thank you Mistress. For everything.”

She stroked my chin, and then ran her hand through my hair, before gently taking hold of it, “You…are very welcome, Davey. Now…would you like a bite of pizza?”

And so we ate together. Mistress Eliza eating, and offering me choice bites of whatever slice she was working away on. Not only was it my favourite style of pizza, plenty of pepperoni with just the right amount of cheese and crispiness, but she had somehow endeavored to get it from my favourite place in town. Which had to have been quite the drive. I was over the moon, not having had it in all the time since she had taken me, and it doused the flickering embers of bitter defeat quite nicely.

We did end up watching a movie, one of Mistress Eliza’s seemingly endless collection of movies that contained a wonderful mixture of humour, romance, and the good guys triumphing after much risk and derring do. I didn’t remember much of the details of it, as I got to snuggle up to Mistress and collect her scritches and pats as I drifted into that wonderful half awake state that Eliza had learned to nearly effortlessly put me into when she wanted. Cradled half on her lap, still in my slick latex maid outfit, I melted into her arms as she ran her delightfully knowledgeable fingers over my head, my neck, my stomach, and my thighs. But soon enough I felt her boop my nose several times, and I blinked owlishly up at her.

“Time for us to get to bed Davey,” Eliza murmured, “Or rather, time for me to get to bed. I’ve something special for you tonight.”

I shivered in her arms, but didn’t offer any objection as I was helped to my feet. The security plug buzzed merrily in me as I walked along behind her until we got to the stairs, at which point she grinned and pointed me in front of her. I thought about making a smart remark about her wanting to watch my butt as I climbed the stairs, but two thoughts stopped me. First, I didn’t want to alter the dynamics of tonight, which had all the makings of an enjoyable non-punishment evening. Second, my chastity device wasn’t coming off for three days, and I didn’t want to give Mistress any cause at all to add a fourth.

We got up to the bedroom with no major incidents, apart from the plug once again ramping up as I staggered up the stairs. Eliza giggled, “Oh, I suppose I should ensure you can actually walk into the bedroom.” And entered a command on her fob that reduced the vibrations back to the now familiar “Good Slave” buzz that accompanied me most of my days. When we entered the bedroom I saw a large canvas straitjacket laid out on the bed, and a wardrobe I hadn’t seen opened before with its double doors yawning wide.

Eliza moved me to the bed, and began stripping me out of my gear and attire. Unlocking my cuffs and chain, getting the maid outfit carefully off, and then having me stack everything to one side. I would be cleaning everything tomorrow. Once I was naked, apart from my chastity cage and the thrumming security plug, she gestured me to stand next to the bed.

She strode over and stood next to me, her nearness, her physicality, her warm presence a balm to my still somewhat rattled nature. She leaned past me, picking up the straitjacket and slowly flicking it open with precise, minimal movements. Allowing me to stand there and gaze down at the implement that would soon hold me captive. Allowing me to marinate in my nerves. The anticipation singing in my body. I found myself quivering a little, letting out a small keening whimper that was all excitement, and nervousness, and arousal, and sheer gratitude for Eliza being near me. A complex and unique sound, that I wasn’t entirely certain I’d be able to replicate. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered as she picked up the straitjacket and held it in front of me. Because my Mistress had me. Was standing with me. Smiling at me. I smiled back, and slowly fed my arms into the straitjacket, feeling some of the tension ease even more from my body.

“This is part of your special evening David.” Eliza murmured as she slowly began to pull the straitjacket over my body, “I thought after the day we’ve both had, you would appreciate some snug bondage.”

“Yes Mistress,” I whispered, my eyes half closed. I hadn’t worn a canvas straitjacket before, the material not being especially fetishy…yet there was some appeal to it I felt. Not as kinky perhaps, but this being the sort of thing that prisoners and mental patients wore…its reality did strike a small cord with me. Eliza seemed to realize this, running her hands over my covered torso as she slowly did up a few buckles…and then brought two straps up in between my legs. Sandwiching my caged cock between them…and then joining together into the back. Eliza gave a firm tug, and I let out a strangled squeal of pleasure as I felt the strap dig into my rear…driving the security plug in that little bit deeper. And making the vibrations all the more intense.

Eliza pressed herself to me from behind, standing on tip toes to put her head on my shoulder so she could croon into my ear, “Arms across your chest slave.”

I complied, feeling the slack in my arms taken up, and the straps buckled tightly behind me. Then Eliza began circling me, buckling straps in place to ensure I couldn’t move my arms up and down, buckling more straps in behind and along the side to ensure the garment was quite snug. I stood there through it all, enjoying the sensuality of the process. Enjoying Eliza’s touch through the material. Enjoying the almost absent way she would reach up to caress my neck and face while she fiddled with some part of the jacket.

Then came a new set of cuffs I hadn’t seen before, thick medical grade restraints. Buckled and locked in place, then connected with two feet of cold chain, making me think of asylum patients. I giggled slightly as I shifted back and forth, and Eliza stood up and grabbed the d-ring on the neck of the straitjacket, making me look at her grinning face, her twinkling eyes.

“How does that feel slave? Feel secure? Snug as a bug?”

I nodded happily, opening my mouth to respond…and had a strip of hard plastic surrounded by soft plushy material shoved in my mouth.

“Mmmrggh?”

“Those were rhetorical questions Davey,” Eliza grinned brightly as she strapped the bit gag tightly into my mouth, “Note this is a nice comfy one with lots of padding, so you won’t be uncomfortable. Hell, I could keep that gag in for hours and hours…all night long actually. Its what its designed for after all…”

I moaned into my gag, squirming as she turned, a finger once more through the neck d-ring and led me over to the wardrobe. There I found a new sight. The entire inside had been thickly padded, like one of those asylum rooms where the intent is to ensure the straitjacketed patient doesn’t hurt themselves. My eyes went wide as I looked, and then looked at Eliza, who had another of her Cat Ate the Canary grins as she slowly pushed me towards the yawning opening. Suddenly I realized I was not going to be spending another night snuggling with Eliza, as we had last night, nor was I going in my normal position in her bedroom at the foot of her bed. No, it was to be a night of tight confinement in tight bondage. My normal state of affairs.

I couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh as I stepped into the padded wardrobe, with Eliza right behind me…and blushed as I realized it was a sigh of happy acceptance, rather than resignation or irritation.

I had definitely changed.

Eliza pushed me until I was seated on the thick padding, and then stood in front of me for a moment before slowly kneeling down to straddle me. Pressing a hand to my chest, the other shoved up right beside my head. Bringing her close in to me, pressing herself against me in deliberate, casual dominance, grinding a little against my thighs and caged cock. Showing me that I was owned. She deliberately ran her hands over my body. Over my bound arms, my covered chest, over my thighs and my caged cock, drawing muffled moans and half hearted pleas. Over my face, my gagged lips, until she griped my hair and stared into my eyes.

“You are mine, David.” She brushed a strand of hair from my face, “All of your body is mine, every inch of it.”

I groaned, nodding as she looked me deeply in the eyes. Confirming that I was hers, making me acknowledge I was hers, with the intensity of her seductive domineering glare.

“Any movement tonight is going to remind you of that.” She flicked my nose as my security plug thrummed, and I moaned again as she chuckled, “Oh not just that sweetie, you’ve also got that cold chain between your legs. You are going to feel your bondage, feel the sensation of cold metal on your legs, and feel that pulsing pleasure in your rear, and you are going to know every second that you spend awake in here tonight for me, that you are mine.”

I groaned as she gently shoved me backwards on that final word, pressing my body into the depths of the isolation wardrobe, still on my lap. I wouldn’t be fully stretching out when I was left to sleep, but there was sufficient space to curl up and drift off, whether upright or lying down. Not the most comfortable sleep for most, but I mostly slept in a cage that offered less space than this, so it was, amusingly, a bit of an upgrade.

I felt her hands stroking over my forehead again, and bunted my head firmly into her hand with a pleased grunt. I heard the smile in her voice as she let her head touch my own, and murmured to me, “Just remember slave, you are safe here.” Eliza ran her hands softly through my hair, pulling further small moans and grunts from me, “Whether in my cage, or in my wardrobe, or wherever I choose to keep you, you are safe with me. The world can’t touch you here. Ever. Only I can.”

I moaned, wanting to thrust myself forward as her other hand continued to roam over my body. Bury my entire body in her arms and just be with her. Wanting her touch over all of me again. Wanting her. Just her. Always her.

Her grip on my hair tightened fractionally, and pulled me a little closer to her face. To her warm gaze, sharpened with her clear control. To her lips, pulled in that crooked smile I adored, “Tomorrow we are gonna inspect every inch of that body. I intend to make certain my property is completely undamaged.”

I looked at her, eyes shining with all manner of pent up emotion, and could only let out a long low moan filled with need, aching frustration, desire…and joy.

Eliza leaned forward, her lips quirking, and delivered a soft kiss on my bitgag, “So sleep tight my lovely boy…we’ve a full day tomorrow.” And then she pushed me back into the isolation wardrobe. She rose and stepped out, leaving me within. She leaned on the doors for a moment, her eyes twinkling as she looked me over as I squirmed and moaned, before she slowly slid them shut. Plunging me into darkness. I grunted and moaned for a few moments more, trying to get used to the new space. I felt a little tremble working its way through my body at the tight confines. Though roomier than my cage, it was an isolation cell. I couldn’t hear anything beyond my own ragged breathing and the pulsing buzz of the security plug. I moaned and shifted around, my heart beating a little faster as I tried to hear anything, sense anything, beyond the confines of my cell. I didn’t…I didn’t want to be alone tonight. Not after the day. I dreaded waking up in this pitch dark space, dreaded the possible nightmares. Dreaded feeling alone.

I began to burble and moan louder, uncertain about this whole idea, when I felt my security plug buzz in that additional pulse. That “I’m Watching You Slave” mode. I flushed and let out a loud grateful moan.

Mistress Eliza was watching. She was watching me somehow, even here. Even here, cut off from the world, I wasn’t alone. I had her, and she had me. Mistress Eliza had me…and all was right with my world.

With that reassuring thought, I sank down into the isolation cell, in my snug bondage, and drifted off to sleep.