Note: The story begins with Part 1.
He had hit a roadblock. One of the tasks took up all the time, and even after spending the entire day on it, he was not able to solve the problem. The Mistress, however, would not have any of this. She took him to the bedroom, where she fixated him to the bed. Starting very gently, but striking harder and harder with every stroke, she spanked him with the riding crop. First to warm up his butt cheeks, then three strong strokes for every missing story point.
– “You have disappointed me. Fallen back to your old ways. All I am hearing is excuses. Report to your jail cell at 8pm.”
When the time had come, she was already waiting with her utensils.
She cuffed him the way she usually does if he had to spend the evening in jail. This time the hands were chained behind his back to the buttplug harness, so he couldn’t move them up to his head. The legs got cuffs as well, so he could barely find some rest lying on the floor.
– “I have to make this as uncomfortable for you as I can, I am sure you understand. We have no time to lose.” Indeed, in the past, she had used the jail to put him in all kinds of predicaments. Finding the most punitive way of chaining him was almost her hobby of sorts. Sometimes she would chain him to the railing, so he couldn’t even sit down. There have been days on which she left it at a mild incarceration. Mainly because she had other things to do.
She grabbed the rubber mask and put it over his head. By itself quite a distraction from sleep. Then she took out some tape and a piece of underwear from the laundry. At first, she was no fan of the rubber mask that covers the whole face with the exception of the mouth, it almost spooked her. But she quickly saw the advantages. Completely taking away his eyesight, impairing his hearing, and generally creating this feeling of enclosure had a strong effect on his process of submission. But more importantly, the anonymity it created allowed her to be even more ruthless. He was just a faceless object now, and the ballgag made sure that he was also a voiceless one. She would not have him sitting or even lying comfortably in the cell. This was not supposed to be a relaxing spa visit.
– “Say ‘A’”, she said, almost jokingly, as she stuffed his mouth with the panties.
His whole life he was accustomed to breathing through his mouth. As a result, he tended to snore at night. The punishment was thus at the same time a treatment of his annoying habit. She wrapped some tape several times around his head, making sure he cannot spit out the panties.
– “You’re lucky I’m not ballgagging you. See you in some hours or tomorrow morning or whatever.” – her way of saying good night. She locked the door of the cell twice, and spent the evening on some quality her-time.
He had lost all sense of time, lying on the cold floor of his cell, trying to catch some sleep. The handcuffs were a notch too tight, hurting his wrists, and making every slight movement all that more painful. Suddenly, he heard two voices in the house, chatting and giggling. That was a surprise. Who was that other person? The door opened.
“So here is the bathroom. Nevermind my husband.”
“Men, huh? So over them. You’re doing the right thing here!”
They laughed and clinked their champagne glasses.
The door closed again, and the voices fainted. Some time later the guest returned to use the bathroom. The warmth of her pee was a welcome change from the cold, hard floor. However, she flushed it down the drain using cold water – an icy surprise he hadn’t seen coming. The Mistress never told him who the visitor was, how long she stayed, and what they were doing that night. He was only released and allowed back to his bed at some indiscernible point in the middle of the night.