Friday, April 22, 2016

Stored away

It's been two or three months since Mistress took complete freedom away.

Or... since I accepted that I have no life, no existence outside of slavery to her. She didn't take my freedom away, I gave it away. I relinquished it, slowly, bit by bit until there was nothing left but being Mistress's lap dog.

Life is simpler now, though. I don't have to think about much except how to please her. And when possible, how to stay out of trouble, though that is pretty much an impossible task. I am punished every day for something, the only question is how severe the punishment is.

One of her punishments is to place me in a hood. It's locked on, so there is no way to get it off, even if I dared try. It's leather, or pleather, or some such material and has straps that tighten it around my head and face, and a built in gag.

There are no eye holes, no mouth hole, no ear holes. Just two small holes at the nose. I breathe, but that's it. It does a pretty effective job at sensory deprivation. Everything is completely dark, and of course there is no taste. I can hear a bit, but she also adds ear plugs which fit pretty securely and make it virtually impossible to hear anything short of someone yelling at me. The part that goes over my mouth has a gag in it, that extends into my mouth. I can chew on it, but it also keeps me from talking in a way that can be understood.

I am then set to a task, like doing the dishes. I'm blind, deaf, and dumb (I can't speak because of the hood gag, either). I can breathe, but the air is pretty stale because the two small nose holes aren't really large enough to get air through. I must feel my way along and do the Helen Keller type job.

Of course, when I don't do a good job or break something, it really doesn't matter that it was because I had the hood on. I am punished anyway. She usually beats my pain sack. Sometimes she will tie me up in the full hogtie position, where my ankles are bent all the way behind me so my body makes a reverse "O".  My ankles are then tied to a noose that goes around my neck.

Something about a properly tied noose? They can tighten, but don't get looser. Once tight, they stay that way. So when I am tied up in the hogtie, if I wriggle around or relax my legs they pull on the noose around my neck, tightening it. The first time she tied me like that I begged.

"Please, mistress, my back and legs are cramping terribly, I can't keep in this position. I am going to choke myself!" I was already speaking in a strained hoarse whisper because of the noose.

"Oh, Marc, I have complete faith in you. You can do it."

She sat and watched me struggle, each time I moved it tightened the noose around my neck.

"Please, please mistress! I can't... my head is pounding!"

"Of course you can. It is amazing what people can do when their life depends on it."

Mistress loves seeing me in distress. She gets off on it. So that first time when I was effectively strangling myself she hiked her skirt up and started masturbating. I think she came about the time I started to lose consciousness.

I continue to marvel how all this time I continuously have massive erection. It was true when I was first dating Mistress, and it is true now that I am living with her. I am constantly hard.

When I am not in chastity that is. She has begun to use chastity devices more and more regularly. She says I don't need and shouldn't have orgasms, so my cock doesn't need to be erect. All I need is the peehole to let the pee out.

One of the worst developments has been the storage cage. That isn't my regular cage, which is relatively comfortable. That one is large enough for me to rest in different positions, and has food and water in it. There's a corner with a small dish that I can pee and poop in.

No, the storage cage isn't really a cage at all. It's basically a coffin shaped hole in the floor in which I lie. The top has an iron grate, like a cage, going over it. There isn't enough room to move around at all; I just lay there. The hole is in the basement, the place where I have been spending more and more time. The basement is concrete, so the storage hole is concrete as well.

The first time I was put into storage I panicked; there was so little room I felt trapped and started pleading and begged and cried. I was sobbing. It was claustrophobic, like, being buried alive in a coffin. The hole is too short for me to stretch my legs out, so I have to keep them bent to the side. There is so little room to move.

I guess I was making too much noise that first time because Mistress covered the storage cage with a wooden plank to keep my noise from disturbing her. I think she also covered the plank with a carpet, because there is one she keeps on the floor most of the time. It further muffles any noise I make.

Sometimes when I am laying in the storage cage, and I have nothing to do, and my legs are cramping because I can't stretch them out, I try to play with my cock. There is nothing else to do in there. But most of the time my cock is locked away, so I've started experimenting to see what happens if I play with it when I am locked up.

Generally, it just hurts. My cock gets hard but can't go anyplace, so it just gets smashed and hurts, which makes it go limp again. Like a cycle of arousal, pain, collapse, then arousal again...

It's humiliating.

Mistress will sometimes come and torment me when I am locked away in the storage cage. I am completely helpless in the storage cage, and she loves to see me squirm in there. She has a sharp stick she uses to poke me. It hurts, but really that's nothing. If she is doing that, she is just bored and having fun watching me wiggle.

When Mistress really wants to hurt me, she will use this electric prod she has. It is like a stun gun but it is long and thin. When it touches me it sends a sudden, nasty shock through my body. It hurts like I have been pierced with a knife, though the pain goes away pretty quickly.

Mistress loves to hear me cry out in pain. It arouses her sexually, and also makes her happy. I guess that means I am fulfilling my purpose by suffering for her.

When Mistress is in a bad mood, she will urinate on me. I also urinate when in the storage cage, because... there is no choice. I can't hold it forever. So I pee. I am usually on my back which means the pee shoots up over my stomach and then dries there. There isn't that much difference between my peeing on myself, and Mistress peeing on me, except when Mistress does it I get to swallow her pee and see her pussy hovering over me.

I welcome these times, because it breaks the mind numbing monotony of being buried in the basement floor.

I will do almost anything to keep from being put into storage. She's left me in there for three days before. At least I think it was three days. I can't really tell in the basement. I fear it because it is so isolated, so alone, and so tight with no room to move. It really is like being buried alive. Shen she covers me over and puts the carpet on top, it feelings like she has forgotten me and I will die in there, slowly, suffocating or dying of thirst, covered in my own urine and wallowing in my own feces.

Sometimes I hear her footsteps on the planks above me. She uses the basement for storage and some other things, so I know she comes down there when I am in storage.

I know I am fulfilling my purpose by suffering in whatever way Mistress decides. Still it is very hard, existing in the storage hole for long periods at a time.

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