Controlling Christine, Book One

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Home From The Trip

Christine

It was awful! I couldn’t spit out the pad, nor could I get at any of my fastenings. The way I was strapped to my seat kept me completely helpless and each stop and bounce made the chain fastened to the front of my skirt pull and vibrate maddeningly. Within two miles I was wailing frenziedly under the captivity of my gag and there was at least another forty minutes of this to go before I was released! Every now and then his hand would descend to one of my breasts, presented so readily by my tight bra, and I had to endure his fondling while I lay there beside him. As a woman, I desperately wanted to protect myself from this sort of intimate caressing, but bound as I was, I was vulnerable in the extreme. I didn’t know where we were for all I could see was the van’s head-liner and so I just had to endure my fate.

We finally arrived at the house and parked, then he raised the seat to its normal setting and quickly released me from the multitude of restraint belts. A moment later he came around to my door and opened it.

“C’mon, honey. Time to go inside.”

I sat there in fear for a few seconds, trying to shake my head against the drag of the ear-ring chains. I didn’t want to get out of the van dressed and restrained as I was. Someone would surely see me. He didn’t seem to be worried though because he grasped my leash and literally dragged me out to stand before him.

“Now,” he admonished, “you should learn to do what you’re told as quickly as possible.” He was serious.

I moaned with embarrassment, standing there in broad daylight on the driveway, gagged, leashed and helpless. He turned and locked the van, then whistling some tuneless melody, casually pulled me along the sidewalk and up to the front door at the end of my leash. Once there, I stood behind him, my face flaming with embarrassment while he fumbled for the key. Finally I was drawn inside. With the door closed and locked, he pulled me along behind him to the playroom at the back of the house, then inside the large chamber, its outer wall completely made of glass. He clipped a dangling chain to the back ring of my collar, leaving my regular tether still attached, then walked to the wall and pressed a button on a control panel. The shiny links of my newest leash began to disappear into a hole in the ceiling and in a moment I was forced by the increasing tension to prance to the middle of the room and stand under the aperture while the chain shortened. He stopped the hoist and walked back to where I stood helplessly waiting, almost on tip-toe.

“I’m gonna go and get dinner ready then I’ll be back for you. Don’t go too far away now!” he chuckled, giving me a playful, proprietary swat on the behind when he walked away.

I turned at the end of my tight neck chain and stared at his retreating back until the door thunked closed, and locked. The chain was loose enough that it permitted me to dance in a small circle, but I couldn’t relax or even bend my knees and so just had to endure my fastenings in gagged silence until he returned.

The balance of our evening was very low-key. After he’d removed my gag and freed my hands, I was taken by my c******s leash to the dining room to enjoy one of his deliciously-cooked meals and when we’d finished the clean-up, we went into the TV room to watch some of the newer shows. At ten PM he took me upstairs.

“Time for bed,” he stated. “Today has been a real b***h and I just want to pit out. You’ve had quite a day too, hmm?”

“Y-yes Master.” I answered dutifully. “Am I to sleep with you tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so, honey. I need the rest and so do you, so it’s into your cell,” he stated not unkindly. I sighed with disappointment, knowing that I would soon have to wear my gag once more. If I slept with him I didn’t normally have to, although I was kept on a bed leash, unable to escape him if he wanted anything of me.

“Okay, time to get you out of your clothes.”

Within five startlingly short minutes I stood naked before him, except of course for the multitude of chains still ensnaring my body.

“Go do your thing in the bathroom, then come back here. Don’t be too long.”

With a rattle of my reminder chains I went into the en suite and with difficulty, did what had to be done. After washing thoroughly I walked hesitantly back into the main bedroom.

“Time to get you tucked away for the night!” he stated unequivocally.

I couldn’t stop the fearful trembling that wracked me every time he opened my cell door and drew me into the black-walled cell/bedroom. The whole interior was unrelieved black, except for the chromed fittings on the steel-framed bed, lit by small adjustable spot lights in the ceiling. Wordlessly, he pulled me to the side and locked the short, chain bed leash welded to the centre of the head-board to the ring on the back of my collar. I stood fidgeting nervously, as I did every night while he prepared my bed bondage, staring around at the featureless, flat black walls. He pulled back the quarter inch thick, shiny, black rubber over-sheet, unlocked the bedside table drawer, then pulled out my sleeping gag and turned to me.

“Kneel!”

I sank slowly to my knees before him as he had told me I was to do each evening before I was to be gagged. “Any last words tonight, Christine?”

“M-M-Master?” I quavered, looking up into his uncompromising eyes, “D-do I have to wear this crotch thing and all the other chains to bed?”

“Fraid so,” he said . “Anything else?”

“N-n-no, Master,” I sniffled, more hopeless tears beginning to brim in my eyes, trying to get some sympathy.

“Very well. Open your mouth, then I’ll get you settled in once you’re gagged.”

Chained and leashed within the cell, there wasn’t any way to avoid my fate and so I opened my mouth as widely as possible while he squeezed the pad and prepared to insert it.

“A little wider.”

The slightly resilient rubber device was slowly thrust between my teeth and I groaned with discomfort when it forced them even further apart. The pad was bigger than any I wore during the day and I hated it with a passion He continued pushing, holding my head at the back with his other hand and I felt the surface irregularities that mated it so exactly to my palate, sliding across my teeth until the horrid thing was completely inside. I could almost close my jaws to a comfortable level again once it was in my mouth and when I did, he wriggled the pad a little so that its custom-formed surface settled into the various nooks and crannies. I bit down and when I did, the choke-pear sucked itself into intimate contact, making me moan with apprehension when my tongue slipped into its groove. Flexible, thick rubber fingers on the sides of this groove in the choke-pear slid into place on either side then under it so that it was almost immobilized. He walked behind and drew the inner strap tight, making me almost retch when it was locked. My hair was brushed aside and he fastened the wide cover-strap. I was totally silenced, again.

For the first months that I’d had to bear the awful silencer, I’d been unable to sleep with any degree of comfort, constantly fearful of choking, but now I’d become accustomed to wearing it every night, although I hated the thing. He walked around to stand before me.

“Into your bed.”

I rose slowly from my kneeling position and sat gingerly on the coldness of the rubber-coated mattress, feeling goose bumps rise while I prepared to lay back. He smiled at my shivering when I swung my legs up, keeping them straight, then slowly dropped them onto the cold shiny surface. Once my legs rested on the mattress, he walked to the foot, then reached down and picked up the short chain welded to a ring that slid along a rail on the raised frame. Its free end was equipped with an integrated lock and it was but the work of a second for him to slip its thick, silvery shackle through the inner rings of my ankle cuffs and close it with a final-sounding click. There was enough slack in the tether that I could pull up my knees almost to a right angle with my body, but the bed’s design also permitted him to chain my legs out in a full spread-eagle if he felt like it. He’d only done that a couple of times and I didn’t like it at all. I felt so utterly vulnerable and exposed when he fastened me in such a way. A moment later he’d clipped both of the side belts to their rings on my cinch and I slowly sank back onto the cold but rapidly warming, rubber-covered mattress, knowing that if I didn’t, when they were tightened, I’d be forced to do so.

With a mechanical whirring, the tensioners drew the side straps tight, pulling me deeply into the soft, envelopment. He stood beside me and stared down into my brimming eyes.

“Hands.” was all he said.

I moved my cuffed wrists to my stomach and he slipped another lock through their rings, joining them to the front of my compressing belt. He spent the next minute or so arranging my reminder chains so that I wasn’t laying on them then pulled the thick rubber sheet up over me and zipped it to the thick mattress cover with the edge-mounted heavy-duty zipper, sealing me into the bed so that now there wasn’t any way for me to get out. There was a neck-hole and he closed that around the base of my throat beneath the bottom edge of the collar, then zipped it closed too. My head slipped into a deep, formed depression in the pillow, and although I could lift it slightly out of its place, the tension of the sheet pulled me back down immediately.

“Okay!” he smiled at me, “You’re set for the night, Christine. See you tomorrow morning.”

He leaned down and kissed my eyes and nose while I struggled silently under the thick, impervious cover to rise to meet him, mewling desperately through my gag to have him stay with me a few seconds longer. He stared down at me in silent, gloating contemplation, then walked to the door and turned off the lights. The heavy, thick, and sound-proofed panel slid noiselessly shut behind him, closing with a dull thud and plunging the room into unrelieved blackness. The electric locks snapped, sealing me inside for the night, his total prisoner and possession.

For a couple of minutes, I jerked against my bonds beneath the sheet, struggling uselessly to escape the chains and straps that held me a prisoner, panting and gasping through flared nostrils, but my efforts were, of course, to no avail. In seconds I was bathed in sweat within my snug rubber imprisonment and for a moment or two more I whined and pleaded pitiably against my locked-on gag, but the room seemed to suck up all sound and my chains made only the faintest rattles when I tried pulling my legs up. Deep in my crotch the bar and intrusions locked into my body continued to tug uncomfortably against my flesh and each breath I drew tightened the restricting web of chains around my chest and locked to my n*****s. I gasped in a welter of self-pity and claustrophobic fear, continuing to weep and fight my bindings, as I did every night now.

After a long while I settled down and once more accepted my hopeless bondage, finally drifting off into a terrifyingly real nightmare ..........