Julia Westworth smiled as she watched her husband stew in his misery.

It had been some time since she last paid him a visit. Months. She couldn’t be bothered to remember any exact number.

The pudgy man Julia had married was sealed in his gimp suit. Thick leather covered the entirety of his body. There wasn’t a single part of him that touched open air. Even his air holes were plugged into a tank of oxygen rather than being simple holes.

He was little more than a worm at this point. His legs were secured in the sack like bottom of the suit, his arms bound in front of him in a tight straightjacket. He was gagged with his feeding tube, and sedated whenever he needed to be let out for a bathing. Mr. Westworth was never conscious when he was let out.

He still wriggled and struggled. No one could deny the man’s fortitude. Even after all this time he still wasn’t completely broken, though he still begged for freedom when he had the chance.

His mind was still there. Julia was careful about that. He had been in that state for a very long time, but she had it plugged directly into her home’s entertainment system. A specially made, high tech screen was in front of his eyes at all times, with earbuds embedded into his ears. It was all plugged into the TV, there was a radio receiver in their room, and things could be streamed directly to him. He couldn’t select what he was seeing, but he was often shown various pieces of entertainment. Sometimes he was even shown things he liked to watch.

And the news. Julia made sure he saw the updates of the mysterious disappearance of August Westworth, and how his wife and daughters (one from his first marriage, one from Julia) had grown more reclusive in response.

“Would you like to speak with him, Mistress?” Clara asked.

Julia turned. Her head maid had once been her husband’s favorite slave. His treatment of her had been bad enough that all Julia had to do was get him out of he way to earn her loyalty. She hadn’t even freed the woman, just stolen her from her gimp-husband. That was all it took.

“No, I’ll leave him to stew in there awhile longer. Keep up the good work, Clara.”

The short, curvy maid curtsied. Her outfit was considerably more modest than most maids, but the tight latex bodysuit was still hardly appropriate for the public.

Julia left the viewing room with its dark light and bright screens. Wondering what to do next. Her day had brightened considerably after seeing her poor husband’s suffering.

She glided down the hallway in her robe and slippers, whistling a happy little tune as she did. What to do next? Take a look at her newest slave and see how his exercise regimen was going? A visit to her stepdaughter?

Julia Westworth chuckled. Decisions, decisions.