Author's Notes:
(1) This is fiction;
(2) Do not read this chapter out of context. Read chapters 1-3;
(3) Jason is a masochist;
(4) Victoria is a sadist and possibly a psychopath, her actions illegal;
(5) Do NOT ever attempt "breath play" as it is described herein;
(6) Do NOT ever leave anyone in bondage as severe as this for as long as this;
(7) This story has scenes in it that will be upsetting to most, interesting to some, and erotic to an even fewer number of people. I don't expect many readers.
*****
Victoria cautiously opened one eye and found it was light outside. Suzie lay behind her, spooned into her back comfortably. She smelled like sex and the thought came over her briefly to engage in that once again, but then she smelled Suzie's breath, did the sour lemon look, and decided to get up and shower. Stepping around Jason, she checked his wellbeing and noted that he was breathing. That was good. Then she checked the bucket and noted that he had peed through the external catheter. He was fine, probably numb and in pain, but fine nonetheless. Served him right, the little shit.
She had been astounded that he had the gall to cut the chastity device off and in so doing, dare her to react. After many hours of contemplation about the degree of retaliation, she had decided to expose him to only one person, at least this time, as a "shot across the bow" so to speak. It seemed to have worked. He was subdued, angry but subdued, the first step in his absolute submission. By the end of the weekend he would be begging for anything that she could give him, not a broken man, but approaching that, perhaps a heavily burdened or bent man, one who for the first time could actually see his own breaking point, pull back, and submit to her to save himself. It was a form of breaking, she supposed, but she didn't really care; he was an aristocratic, arrogant piece of shit, and she had no interest in preserving his psychological makeup. In fact the reverse was true; now that she had him, she could mould him into anything she wanted, with the caveat that he still had to be able to function as a lawyer and supply her with the weekly fees. That was the tricky part, as it always was for a parasite: take too much out of the host and the host dies. The other six slaves were well healed, in balance and obedient, but Jason was clearly a slow learner. Until now.
She continued to the bathroom, deciding to leave him for the rest of the morning, at least until Lazy Suzie got up, which was usually around 10:30. What could another three hours do to him that had not already been done? That would be eighteen hours bound as he was. That alone would be enough to change a person.
She realized she was grumpy and extraordinarily nasty at the moment. She needed to shower, do her hair and makeup and then get dressed and make coffee. If she remained as she was, she might do serious damage to Jason, and although that sometimes made her quiver with excitement, it was a dangerous desire that she knew she needed to control.
Later, as she daydreamed while drying her hair, she began to make more plans for Jason. There would be no letup on the bondage. Before he was released from one particular hold, he would be put into another, and so on the entire weekend, so that it was like a continuous chain of bondage. He would control nothing and be controlled entirely by her. And he would be used...oh how he would be used, in so many ways, not just sexually, but as a display of his emasculation, in whatever way that manifested itself. Maybe she would use him as a footstool, maybe suspend him from the ceiling, or simply force him to stand as a sculpture-like display of absolute bondage. As she thought these thoughts, she saw herself smiling in the mirror, and she briefly pushed her thighs together in anticipation of the endless orgasms to come.
Then some serious thoughts fell over her like a wet blanket. There was Jodi. The reason she had enslaved Jason was really because of her friend Jodi. Because of the latex hood, Jason was anonymous. Should she continue to serve Jason up as a prostitute sex slave to Jodi, or should she tell her that this was Jason, the man that she had loved and who had dumped her? Would she eventually recognize him? She decided to leave that alone for a while. Eventually that problem would solve itself in one way or another. But Jodi had obviously been intrigued with male emasculation and sexual usage in her introduction two weeks ago to the scene. Maybe Jason and Jodi were meant for each other anyway. Maybe she would give Jason to her as a gift to be owned by her. She chuckled at the dynamics of that, how he would be forced to serve her, even marry her if she chose to make it so. But Jason needed time to adapt to being her slave first, to be obedient, and at the same time Jodi needed time to immerse herself in the female domination scene, to learn and to grow within that framework.
That night, it had been arranged for Jodi to come over for dinner and an evening of debauchery, the main course being Jason himself. For now it was preferable to simply use Jason as a prostitute only, an animal in bondage, a nameless sexual servant. It sounded cruel inside her head right now, but then she realized as always, that people like him secretly enjoyed this treatment. His penis was always attempting to become erect within the chastity cage, no matter what she did to him. Masochism was a strange beast, and when mated with sadism, became stranger still.
It was such delicious justice that Jason knew he was being used by the woman he had dumped; she could have him as male meat, but he could not really have her, not any more. He was an anonymous prostitute now, disguised by the latex hood, silenced by the gag and breathing tube, and bound by whatever means that seemed necessary for the sexual scene in which he was cast. Oh, and the chastity cage? That was just the frosting on top of everything else. He would not have an orgasm this weekend. It was perfect, and he deserved every bit of it.
Jason heard something, a consistent roar in the background. He opened his eyes and listened, finally comprehending it was a hair dryer. Someone was up and surely that meant he would be released soon.
What, where, why, how, were the questions that flooded his brain but he quickly put the pieces together concerning his present situation. It was Saturday morning. He was bound and helpless at the foot of Victoria's bed, all because he had tested Victoria's mettle regarding her ingenious blackmail. His hands tingled within the arm-binder and his shoulders and head ached. His chin and jaws also ached from the constant pressure of the leather posture collar forcing his chin upward. The anal plug was being pressured from within. And he needed to pee. Again. So he did. Once more as he lay there motionless, he listened to it dribble from the catheter tube into the plastic pail.
He was humiliated and disgusted with himself. If the Law Society saw him now, he would be disbarred. If his wealthy philanthropic parents in high society saw him now, they would disown him. Therein lay his dilemma; Victoria had all the cards.
He couldn't tell who it was that was drying her hair, as from his vantage point on the floor, he could not see the top of the bed. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. His needs at the moment were simple: find a way to withstand the pain, and do anything to prevent this from happening to him again.
As he lay there waiting for the next phase of his atonement, he thought about last night. Had that really happened? And most of all, had he been dreaming when Victoria had said, "Knowledge and humility will set you free."? It sounded so melodramatic and stupid, but there seemed to be rays of truth within it; he was learning, and he was gaining humility while suffering humiliation.
There were no sounds in the house now, but then again, the latex hood severely compromised his hearing, so he had no choice but to wait and wait, and wait. It was exasperating, but at the same time fulfilling, as endorphins took him higher and higher, and yet deeper and deeper into sub-space.
Victoria stepped over him suddenly and went to her bureau, pulling out a bra and a pair of panties, both white and plain but revealing. She stared at him while she leaned over letting her breasts fall and settle into the cups.
"Good morning," he said.
"Hey, how're you doing?" she responded as she slipped on the panties.
"Okay I guess. No, I'm not okay. Please, will you get me out of this? I'm begging you..." He didn't even have the strength or coordination to struggle.
Victoria smiled and walked toward him, squatting down so that he was looking directly at her pubic mound under the panties. Then she stared him in the eye said simply, "No."
Jason was not surprised, but he was dismayed. As she stepped over him again, disappearing into the closet, he pleaded with her, "Please Victoria! I have cramps... Look, I won't ever take the chastity lock off again, ever! I promise. I'll do anything you ask, anything. Please!"
She poked her head around the closet door and said, "Consequences Jason, consequences. This is the part that you missed or misunderstood in our little arrangement. You did what you did. You're getting the consequences. What do I gain by releasing you now? You see, you can't just SAY you'll do anything I ask; you have to WANT to do everything I ask, and that requires a change in your attitude. You'll come around though; I have confidence in you." She came back into the bedroom fully dressed in a casual loose black skirt and a sweater top on this cool October morning.