The Hostage

The Hostage

Chapter One

Sirens screamed through the darkness of the night.  Lights flashed, casting a
strange reddish-blue tint to everything they touched.  The normally quiet
suburban neighborhood soon woke from its previously undisturbed slumber.  A
light flashed on in the upper window of a nearby home.  A shadow passed over the
drawn curtains as the occupant was awakened by the noise outside on the street. 
The curtains parted to reveal the form of a woman after only a brief pause.

"What is it?" asked a sleepy male voice.

"I'm not sure." Replied the shadowed form of the female.  "Go back to sleep. 
I'll check it out and see."

The male within the large bed dutifully closed his eyes without another thought.

The curtain within her hands dropped away and she turned back to the bed to grab
up her night wrap.  Slinging it around her well-muscled, broad shoulders, she
tied it around her tiny waist and was shutting the door to the bedroom without
thought to the lover she was leaving behind.

She descended toward the first floor in total darkness, not bothering with the
light for she knew her childhood home like the back of her hand.  At the bottom
of the wide, carpeted stairs she turned left, heading for the front door and
pulling it wide without thinking.

Stepping out into the coolness of the October night, she pulled the wrap tighter
and approached the officers gathered around the mangled remains of what looked
like an SUV.  It had been smashed into a telephone pole in one of her neighbor's
yards and she was shocked to see no one inside as she got closer.  The
headlights almost touched and she had to wonder how anyone could have survived. 
The driver's door had been pushed open and she thought for a moment that maybe
the occupant had already been taken away to the hospital.

"Ma'am..." said an officer in a stern voice as she got closer.  "Ma'am, please
go back inside.  There's nothing to see here."

She moved closer, giving the officer a stern look of her own before asking a
simple, "What happened?"

"Ma'am, please, go back inside and lock your doors." The officer commanded in
return.

The woman planted her feet in her perfectly manicured lawn and crossed her arms
over her well-endowed chest as she said.  "Tell me what's going on."

The officer sighed deeply, sensing somehow that he wouldn't win without telling
her what she wanted to know.  With a placating hand on her elbow, he explained
as he turned her back toward her home.  "Ma'am, the suspect is still loose in
the neighborhood.  Now please, go back inside your home and lock all your
doors."  He said, giving her a gentle but insistent shove back toward her front
door.

With a soft snort, she did just that, all but slamming the door behind her. 
Once inside again, she moved through the darkness toward the kitchen, still not
bothering with the light. 

She was halfway there when she felt something hard and cold shoved into her
back, just below her ribs.  A hand descended over her mouth and pulled her
backwards into the object and a sudden voice hissed in her ear.  "Make a sound
and I swear I'll shoot you..."

If she'd have been able she would have laughed, but the hand over her mouth made
sure she couldn't do anything other than stand there.  Which is what she did,
remaining still as stone until he spoke again. 

"Is there anyone else in the house?" hissed in her ear a second or so later.

Slowly, she shook her head underneath his hand, thinking to herself that while
her lover was upstairs, he wouldn't be appearing anytime soon no matter how much
noise she made.

She smelled the fear rolling off the man behind her, as well as the blood, which
was obviously from the crashed SUV next door.  He had to have been hiding
somewhere in the manicured bushes outside and had snuck inside when no one was
looking.

"You're sure you're alone?" he questioned, shoving the gun in her ribs harder in
implication.

She nodded, keeping her breathing calm and even while she simply folded her
hands in front of tightly wrapped robe. 

"If I take my hand away promise you won't scream?"

Again she nodded as the barrel was pushed deeper into her ribs and the hand
slowly dropped away.  "Put your hands behind you," he commanded in a soft hiss.

She did just that.  His free hand dropped to the belt of her robe and untied it
swiftly, pulling the ends around behind her and wrapping them around her crossed
wrists.  

"If you behave I'll let you go after the police have moved on..." he hissed
softly as he wound the belt.  When he seemed satisfied that she wasn't going
anywhere, he shoved the barrel of the gun deeper in her ribs to prod her toward
the back of the house.  "I heard you talking to the cops.  What did you say?" he
asked as he guided her along with a tight grip on her shoulder.

"I simply asked what was going on." She replied as they moved through the
darkness toward the kitchen.  "They weren't very forthcoming I'm afraid, other
than to say you were still in the neighborhood." She admitted honestly,
shrugging her shoulders.

"You're not afraid of me?" he asked as they arrived in the kitchen and he pushed
her into the chair with a hard shove.

The air left her for a moment and she sucked in a breath before being able to
answer.  "If you were going to shoot me, you already would have." She stated
when she could.  "Besides that weapon is not silenced and the cops would come
running with the first shot." She stated as she saw his shadow pass over the
window.

From the looks of his outline, he was a big man, at least 6'3" or 6'4" with very
broad shoulders.  She could just make out the standard issue orange prison
jumper he still wore.

"You escaped from the county jail." She stated in a soft, simple tone.  It was
an observation, made calmly as he moved toward the back door and checked the
locks in the darkness. 

"Yes.  I did." His voice returned as he came around behind her again.  Grabbing
a handful of her long, full hair, he pulled back hard.  "Does that scare you?"

Again, she shrugged slowly, her eyes tearing slightly in pain.  "Not really, but
there's no need to get violent about it." She said slowly.  "I won't fight you." 
When he didn't seem reassured, she smiled in the darkness and whispered in her
best seductive tone.  "I promise..." as she shifted slightly and pushed her
ample chest through the folds of her wrap.

He dropped her hair then, shoving her head forward roughly.  "What are
you...some kind of sick freak?" he asked as he moved off in the darkness again
and peered out the small window over the sink.

She chuckled to herself, but remained calm, tossing her hair out of the way as
she spoke again.  "Not really.  Just a girl making the best of what could be a
terrifying situation."

His silhouette turned toward her then and she saw his smile and the light from
outside glinted off the barrel of the gun as he brandished it toward her. 
"That's right lady.  Don't screw around.  Behave yourself and I'll be out of
here soon..." he said emphasizing each word with a shake of the gun.

Again she chuckled to herself and relaxed back against the kitchen chair,
lifting one leg to cross it over the other as if she was merely getting ready to
share a cup of tea with someone.  "I told you I wouldn't fight you," she said
softly. 


Several hours passed with the man continually staring out the window.  The
police finally moved on, giving up on the search.  She saw his wide shoulders
slump in relief as the last of the police lights was turned off and the cars
began to disperse.  Neither of them had said a word since her last statement and
it was he that broke the silence as he came toward her in the darkness. 

"Come on." He stated, tucking the weapon into his pocket as he lifted her from
the chair.  "I need to get out of here.  Where are your car keys?" he asked as
he dragged her toward the front hall again.

"In my purse on the table." She stated, moving along without resistance.

When they reached the mentioned object, he rummaged around in it for a moment
and finally pulled out a set of keys on a simple ring.  "Where's your car?"

"In the garage." She returned coolly.

He muttered something about literal females, and began to shove her toward the
hall coat closet.  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to tie you up and gag you." He
stated without compunction as he opened the door.

"Not really." She said, planting her feet much as she had in the lawn hours
before.  "I could always fix you a nice, warm meal before you go." She stated. 

When he didn't respond, but kept trying to shove her in the closet, she tried
logic.  "I mean, who knows when you're going to get to eat again." She added
when he didn't seem convinced.  "I'm an excellent cook, I assure you, and could
have a nice steak and potatoes whipped up in no time," she added slowly, still
unmoved despite his attempts to get her into the closet.

His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, reminding him that he hadn't
eaten since his supper in the jail the evening before.  He debated a moment
more, then removed the gun from his pocket and shoved it into her ribs again. 
"Alright, but no funny business." He stated in a cold, menacing voice as he
undid the loops of her belt.

"No funny business." She reiterated with a slight smirk on her lips as she
turned and moved off back toward the kitchen.

Reaching around the doorjamb she turned on the light and got her first good look
at her captor since his unexpected arrival.  In turn, he got the first good look
at his hostage once his eyes had adjusted to the light. 

He was 6'4", as she'd surmised, with long brownish blond hair that easily
reached the collar of the bright orange jumpsuit.  His chest was broad, well
muscled, as she'd guessed, testifying to either a life of hard work, or a long
prison sentence.  His bright blue eyes looked cold and calculating as they took
in the modest, clean and homey kitchen.  His long legs were even more muscular
than his chest, and she turned away to hide the smirk on her lips as she moved
off toward the cabinets.

He slid slowly into the chair she'd occupied with the gun still trained on her
and following her every move as he took her in with a cold eye.  She was tall,
for a woman, almost six feet herself, well muscled if the flat stomach, broad
shoulders and long, toned legs were any indication.  She moved with a kind of
grace that most women just didn't have.  Confidence.  Cool, calm confidence that
wasn't lost on him.  If times had been different...he might have...

~What!~ he mentally berated himself.  ~Dated her?~ he wondered next with a
derisive chuckle at his own thoughts. 

He watched, gulping softly as her long, almost pitch black hair swayed softly
against her pristine white robe.  The silk rustled softly as she pulled down a
can of coffee from the cabinet.  She fixed a pot and set it to brew before
moving off toward the refrigerator with slow, cool grace. 

"You really aren't scared of me are you?" he asked incredulously.

Her wide shoulders shrugged slowly as she rummaged around in the freezer for the
steak she'd promised him.  She turned back, setting the meat on the counter
before answering.  "Like I said, if you were going to shoot me, you'd have done
so in those first moments." She stated softly, unwrapping the meat to let it
thaw while she bent and retrieved a wide skillet from another cabinet.

The coffee was just finishing up as she set the pan on the eye of the stove. 
Flipping on the heat, she pulled out two mugs.  "Mind if I join you?" she asked
slowly looking to him for an answer with the pot poised to pour.

He jerked the gun once and nodded.  As she poured, he noticed the slight shake
in her hand.  ~So, she's not as calm as she seems...~ his mind said with a soft
chuckle.  ~Gotta give her credit though...~ it added a moment later as she set
the cup in front of him.  ~She's trying...~

For just a moment, he thought she might toss the hot brew in his face, scalding
him and trying to escape.  But it descended slowly toward the table without
incident, especially after he cocked the gun.

She had to turn away quickly to hide the smirk on her face and in her eyes as
she reached for her own cup and took a long swig.  Turning back and under
control again, she leaned against the counter, cup in hand and asked softly, 
"So, what'd you do?" while she waited for the pan to heat.

"Killed a man..." he stated in a non-chalant tone lifting and drinking from his
own mug.  "At least that's what they seem to think." He added, licking the warm,
wonderful "real" coffee from his lips.  He was unable to help the soft sigh that
escaped him as he spoke next.  "This coffee is good.  What kind is it?" He
couldn't have stopped the question even if he'd wanted to, because he hadn't
coffee that good in months.

She shrugged, the action causing her robe to part again and expose her tanned
breasts.  "My own blend.  A bit of Columbian Bean, some nutmeg, a pinch of
vanilla, and a smidge of orange to add some flavoring." She stated as she turned
toward the fridge to retrieve the butter.  "Would you like mushrooms with your
steak?" she asked solicitously.

"Sure." He returned, amazed that this woman, only a few inches shorter than
himself, could be so calm in the face of what was happening between them.  He
took another long draw from the cup in his hand, and shook his head at the turn
of events.  It was as if she'd turned the tables on him with hardly any effort
at all.  Going from hostage to hostess as she plopped a generous helping of
butter in the skillet then added the steak.  Both sizzled softly as the heat
began to cook them and she calmly took a few moments to chop up some potatoes
and put some water on to boil.

"Do you mind if I season the steak?" she asked as she stood in front of her
opened cabinets.  "I just can't stand the thought of serving you something that
I wouldn't eat myself." She added as she began to pull down several bottles and
was sprinkling the seasonings before he could answer.

"What are you adding?" he asked, rising slowly to come toward her and the
heavenly aroma already wafting off the pan.  His stomach rumbled again and he
thought about the last decent meal he'd had.  It had been months, literally, not
since the night he was arrested.  He'd been visiting his mother, on the other
side of Chicago.  They were just sitting down for dinner when a heavy pounding
sounded on the door.  He shook his head to stave off the memory and poked the
gun in her back again.  "I said, what are you adding?"

"And I said, nothing but some simple spices." She said again, her voice going
slightly irritated before she brought it under control.  "Some pepper, garlic, a
pinch of rosemary just for flavoring, and a bit of salt.  Trust me, it'll be the
best steak you've ever had.  I told you I was quite the cook." She added as she
worked the spices into the meat with a long fork.

Again, he thought she might turn and try to attack him with the fork, but she
kept it on the steak, indeed working the spices into the meat as it cooked.  She
added a bit more from one bottle, then from a second, and finally a third before
she spoke, turning to look at him over her shoulder.  "I told you I wouldn't
fight you.  Now please sit down, it won't take long to cook."

He couldn't help himself and moved to obey without question.  He wondered, once
more, how she'd managed to turn the tables on him, from hostage to hostess, but
she had and he eased himself back into the chair without thinking.  Laying the
gun on the table, he lifted his cup and asked politely.  "More coffee please?"

She turned, lowering the heat on the steak and poured him another cup without a
word.  All the while that she cooked, she sipped from her own cup.  It took her
about 1/2 an hour to finish off the heavenly smelling meal and set it before
him.  The sun was just lightening the sky as he picked up the knife and fork and
dug in without another word passing between them.

She sat back in the chair calmly watching him eat, all the while drinking her
coffee.  He ate heartily, as if this was his last meal, digging in and
swallowing the barely chewed meat.  She made a mental note to work on his
manners in the future, but let it go without saying anything as she sipped at
the home made brew in her cup.  He was half way threw the meal before he
realized something was wrong.

His limbs began to get heavy...laden...as if he suddenly had great weights
attached to his wrists.  He began to struggle to lift each bite to his mouth,
but he was so consumed with eating the meal that he couldn't focus on what was
actually wrong.  It was only after he couldn't lift his arms at all, that he
managed to lift his head toward her and question in a slurred voice, 
"What...what did...you do?"

She shrugged again and he finally saw the smirk on her face as her eyes
glittered across the table at him.  "Drugged you." She stated as she set the cup
down with a long, slow smile.

"With...with what..." he asked as he began to loose control over the muscles in
his face.

"Oh it's harmless, I promise you." She stated rising out of the chair and coming
around the table to calmly pick up the gun he'd threatened her with all night. 

His eyes grew wide with fear for a moment and she chuckled as she pulled the
clip from the butt and calmly emptied it into one hand.  "Don't worry, I'm not
going to shoot you."  She said as she dropped the now empty magazine and bullets
into one pocket of her robe.  Tossing the gun to the table, she moved his arms
to his sides and straddled him on the chair.  Running her long fingers threw his
hair she chuckled slowly as she spoke. 

"The drug I gave you is my own blend, like my coffee." She stated, leaning back
against the table behind her and slowly beginning to unzip the front of his
jumpsuit.  "You'll be able to see and hear everything that's going on around
you," she said as the zipper slid open.   "But unable to react.  You can blink
your eyes and with some will power move your head, but anything below your neck
is useless...for at least 24 hours." She added as the zipper opened fully and
she got her first glimpse at his rock hard chest. 

Sighing softly, she ran her long fingers over the hard planes and her eyes
twinkled as they gazed into his.  "Just as I'd hoped...not an ounce of fat...A
fine addition...yes indeed, a fine addition..." she added as she rose off his
lap and moved off out of his line of sight without another word.

Chapter Two

He heard her move off threw the house then up the stairs.  A frustrated, angry
growl echoed in his mind as he tried to move some part of his body, but as she'd
said he couldn't.  He could feel his limbs, could feel the blood pumping in fear
threw his veins, but it was as if the drug had severed the nerves and responses
from his brain.  He mentally willed himself to move, crying out in his own mind
with anger as his limbs failed to respond.

His wide eyes flicked to the coffee cup still sitting just a few inches in front
of him on the table.  Was it the coffee? He wondered.  It couldn't have been
because she drank from the same pot.  It must have been the steak, which she
didn't eat.  He looked to his mostly clean plate, with only a few bites left and
knew he had to have ingested a goodly amount of the drug if it was on the steak. 
Even the large helping of potatoes was almost gone.

He wanted to kick himself for being a fool...for accepting the woman's
hospitality.  But how could he have known that she was anything other than what
she appeared.  Then it hit him square between the eyes.  She'd just been too
calm.  Way to calm for someone with a gun to their back and a stranger in their
house.  There was more to this woman than met the eye. 

He realized how much more about fifteen minutes later when he heard someone
coming into the kitchen again.  But the sound was odd and he saw why when the
person finally came into his line of sight.  It was a man, a good-looking man,
with long blond hair and greenish-gray eyes.  He was chained, hand and foot,
much like a prisoner would be in a jail, much like he himself had been anytime
he was transported from his cell.

Only this one was a bit different.  Instead of a prison issue belly chain, with
cuffs, he wore a wide, weight lifters belt around his flat, trim waist.  It was
secured with a padlock at the small of his back and his hands were shackled by
what looked to be a two-inch chain to the front.  Strong, flat pieces of metal
looked to be permanently affixed around his wrists and were padlocked to the
either end of the short chain. 

A similar set of metal bands had been attached above his knees and to his ankles
with a bit longer chain between both of them, but short enough to hobble his
steps to a mere shuffle walk.  He knew that walk all to well, but this poor
man's chains were even shorter, only about three inches.  The man moved with
ease though, as if he was used to them and he got another shock as the man
turned slightly to scoop up the coffee cup in his chained hands.

His mouth was open wide and a large round, black ball had been pushed behind his
teeth.  A metal bar dissected the ball and had two rings attached to either end. 
A number of thin, but tough looking leather straps were riveted onto the rings
and had been wrapped around his head to buckle together in the back.  Small,
silver padlocks jingled slightly as he moved further away from the table and
used his head to pry open a cabinet without looking at him sitting paralyzed at
the table.

He moved to the counter and pushed up on his tiptoes to get the cup onto the
ceramic surface.  Shifting forward and reaching out his bound hands as far as he
could, he used his chin to knock something out of the cabinet.  Pouring the
creamer into the cup, he shuffled over to the pot and grabbed at it with his
hands.  Moving back to the cup, he emptied the pot's contents and turned to
shuffle out of the kitchen.

He got his first look at the man sitting at the table then and gave him a
pitying look before moving past without pausing.

Another frustrated growl boiled up in his mind as he watched the bound man move
out of his line of sight.  He struggled then, again willing his body to respond. 
When nothing happened, he tried to get his adrenaline to pump, to surge threw
his system as it had in the early evening hours when he'd been running from the
police after his escape.  Once more though his body failed him and he could do
nothing but sit there helpless.

He screamed out, in anger and rage, or at least he thought he did, he hoped he
did as he continued to struggle against the effects of the drug.  Deep in his
heart he knew it was useless.  Until it wore off of it's own accord, he was as
helpless as the man that had just shuffled out of the kitchen.


He must have dozed off because a loud noise next to his ear caused his eyes to
fly open sometime later.  He looked to the kitchen window and could see the sun
was high in the sky telling him it was at least noon if not later. 

"Awake I see..." came her soft melodious voice from behind him. 

He swallowed and realized there was something now pressing his tongue tightly to
his lower jaw.  With a start, he could just begin to feel the straps encircling
his head and knew without a doubt that she'd put a 'harness' on him like the
other man's.  He tried to work his jaw, to close it but the object was solid and
unforgiving.  He growled again and this time the sound carried past the ball and
he felt his chest give a slight shudder of movement.

"Seems I miscalculated the dose...so I'm afraid I'm going to have to secure you
in another way..." she was saying as if she'd seen his chest move the moment
before.

He felt himself unceremoniously pushed out of the chair to land on his side with
a hard thud and a whoosh of air from his lungs.  Without a word she rolled him
onto his stomach and he gave a shiver as his naked skin touched the cold
linoleum of the kitchen's floor.  She pulled both arms behind him and began to
wrap something around his wrists as the first tiny bit of movement was returning
to his hands.

By the time he could move them though, his wrists were bound tightly together
with numerous coils of rope.  She moved to his ankles next, doing the same, just
a scant second before he could again move his feet.  He groaned softly as she
wrapped a loop around each of his upper arms, then with a foot in the small of
his back, pulled them together until they almost touched.  Looping the rope
repeatedly over his upper arms, she cinched them off then patted his bare
buttocks with a chuckle as the freedom to move returned to him and he began to
struggle.

Grunting and growling he rolled about on her kitchen floor, cursing behind the
ball in his effort to twist his hands and get at the knots.  She squatted in
front of him as he rolled onto his side and smiled, patting his cheek as she
spoke softly.  "I wouldn't bother.  I've been doing this for a very long, long
time..."

He didn't know what "this" she was referring too, but felt the need to fight
her.  Swinging his bound ankles toward her, he tried to roll up onto his butt
and kick out at his captor.  She chuckled and merely rose to her feet and walked
out of the kitchen without thought to his new predicament.

He really began to struggle then, rolling about on the cold linoleum of the
floor with muffled grunts and groans at the unforgiving, tightly tied ropes.  He
squirmed, he kicked, he rolled, struggling to gain his feet and his freedom. 
But nothing worked.  As with the drug she'd given him, she'd ensured he was well
and truly stuck, only this time the drug wouldn't wear off of it's own accord.

As he rolled around on the floor, he realized she'd undressed him while he dozed
in the chair.  His bright orange jumpsuit was nowhere to be seen, nor was his
prison issue underwear.  A shiver coursed the long length of his body at the
thought of being recaptured, naked and subdued by a mere woman.  The other
prisoners would never let him live it down and he'd end up in more fights than
he cared to think about just then.

Eventually, after about an hour, he managed to use one of the kitchen chairs to
stand up.  Unsteady on his tightly bound feet, he realized he was only inches
from his freedom.  He tried walking at first, but his ankles were too tightly
tied, so he settled for hopping.

Thud...Thud...Thud...he moved precariously across what had once seemed a tiny
kitchen.  Only bound as he was, the distance from the table to the drawer might
as well have been an entire football field.   Sucking the air in threw his nose,
he finally managed to reach the counter.  Squirming around he used his fingers
to pry open the drawer he'd seen her take the long fork from and hoped it also
contained a long, sharp knife he could use to cut the ropes.

Clunk...went the drawer after only 1/2 an inch.  He turned slightly and groaned
loudly, noticing for the first time the child safety locks that held it shut. 
He hopped a step and tried another, then another, and another, only to find the
same result each time.  The small bits of plastic kept the drawers of her
kitchen shut tightly without even enough room to get fingers into them.  He
tried the cabinets next, using his face and head to pry them open.

Unlike the drawer's each of the doors swung wide, but he soon found why she
hadn't bothered to lock these.  Any bottles they held were made of plastic,
ensuring that even if he could manage to break one, there was no way it would
cut threw the ropes that held him. 

"Ahhh...standing I see..." came her voice as she breezed into the kitchen. 
"This will make things go a lot easier and faster."

"MMMPPHHHTTTTT..." he bellowed out in an angry curse, though the words weren't
understandable even to him.

She merely chuckled, coming around the kitchen table and dropping a handful of
metal pieces upon it as she stepped closer to him.  "I'll just bet you're
wondering when the police are going to show up, yes?" she asked as she lifted
out a single piece from the pile and began to fit it around his waist.

He nodded and realized with a sudden start as the padlock closed at the small of
his back that she had fitted a weight lifters belt around his waist. 

"Well, they won't be." She stated simply as she spun him with little effort and
pushed his chest down on the cool counter.

"MMMMPPHHHTTTT..." he screeched out as he felt a piece of cold steel closing
around his left wrist.  The right wrist was given the same treatment and he felt
a small padlock added, locking his wrists together at the small of his back.

She didn't remove the ropes instead she added another piece, knotting it off
tightly between his bound hands before pulling him back into a standing
position.  Turning him back to face her, she unceremoniously threaded it between
his legs and began to loop it repeatedly around his limp cock and balls.

"MMMMPPPHTTTTT..." he screeched out a second time, trying to twist his upper
body away to keep the rope from being secured around his genitals.

Her response was merely to smack him loudly across the chest.  He stilled
immediately, more out of shock than anything else.  She bent back to her work,
tying the rope off securely at the base of his balls before reaching up to
gently caress the handprint she'd left. 

"I really do not like to beat my slaves little one..." she said as her fingers
roamed gently over the mark.  "But misbehave and I will." She added before
turning back to the pile on the table.

A shudder passed over him at the word slave, but he did his best to hide it. 
Pulling at his wrists, his eyes grew wide as the rope there tugged viciously on
his now imprisoned cock and balls.  Despite himself, he felt the beginnings of
an erection, but it was cut off quickly by the tightly wound rope.  He groaned
loudly behind the gag and thrust his hips forward, pulling even more viciously
against the rope.

Moving swiftly, she secured another set of bands just above his knees and added
a short, two-inch chain between them.  Squatting before him, she untied the
ropes at his ankles, and spent a moment softly caressing the marks they'd left
with a shake of her head. 

"Tisk, tisk..." she said softly as she rose again.  "You shouldn't struggle
so..." she added as she reached for one of the kitchen chairs. 

Placing it against his waist, she attached a similar pair of rings to his ankles
and stretched them out as far as the chain between his knees would allow.  She
took a moment and tied them off to respective legs of the chair with ropes he
had no hope of reaching.  She smiled into his eyes as she looped another rope
around the back of his neck and pulled him downward with little effort until he
was bent at a 90-degree angle over the back of the chair.

With sure fingers, she knotted the rope to the rail at the bottom then ran the
rest of it under the chair and up to his bound wrists.  Tying it off with the
knot in reach of his fingers, she bent and smiled into his eyes for a moment,
letting him know of his predicament with soft words.

"There, that should hold you until tonight." She stated simply, patting his
cheek affectionately as she moved out of his line of sight again.

Chapter Three

The rest of the day passed uneventfully.  He could hear both his captor and the
other man moving about the house as the hours passed.  He heard the vaccum
cleaner turn on and off, heard the other man moving calmly about presumably
cleaning this, that and the other.  He could just hear a television set in the
distance, but had no idea what program she watched.

As the first hours of the afternoon passed, he continued to struggle.  Twisting
his upper body this way and that in an effort to escape.  He even managed to
undo the knot at his fingers, but soon realized the folly of his efforts when it
had no effect.  His rope-laden cock and balls were in tortured agony with each
twist of his body, but he did his very best to ignore it.

It wasn't easy though.  With each slight movement, the rope wrapped around his
genitals pulled hard and for a while, he thought they would simply be ripped
clean off.  But they weren't and he soon found himself relaxing as much as his
position would allow him. 

Finally, as the shadows of the setting sun were lengthening within the small,
homey kitchen, she came back to him.  Spinning a kitchen chair with easy grace,
she slid into it and sat staring at him for the longest time before she spoke.

"Gage Weston." Was the first thing she said and he jerked against the ropes that
held him to the chair. 

Lifting his head up as far as he could, his own eyes wide with fear, he shook
his head slowly in disbelief.  "MMMMMPPHHHHTTTT..." he grumbled against the ball
in his mouth.

She just smiled at him and crossed her long, leather clad legs, folded her hands
in her lap and continued.  "Gage Weston.  Arrested and convicted of murder two
weeks ago."  She lifted a hand and casually examined a perfectly manicured nail
before going on.  "Sentence was passed just two days ago.  Life without the
possibility of parole." She stated as her hand rose to her chin and the nail
she'd been examining tapped her strong chin.  "Escaped the night after your
sentencing."

He groaned against the ball in his mouth and renewed his efforts to be free of
the bondage she'd placed on him.  She reached out then and laid a calming hand
on his shoulder.  "Calm down Gage." She said softly and gods help him he did,
especially with her next statement.  "If I was going to turn you in, don't you
think I already would have?" she asked in an eerily calm, logical sounding tone.

His head drooped against the rope around his neck and he sighed out threw his
nose, slowly nodding in response to her question. 

She leaned forward then, gently raising his chin with a crooked finger.  Staring
into his eyes she smiled slowly as she spoke.  "I've spent the day doing some
research on your case.  You really didn't kill that man did you?" she asked, her
eyes holding his with no effort at all.

He gulped softly, tears springing to his eyes as he slowly shook his head.  He
wanted to confess his innocence, as he had all along, but the ball in his mouth
prevented him from saying anything.  ~Please...~ his normally cold eyes begged
in a moment of weakness.  ~Please believe me...~ his mind cried out as the tears
pooled along the bottom lids.

With a gentle caress of her thumb she wiped them away then reached to the front
of the chair and untied the knot holding him bent over.   Coming around behind
him she gently helped him to rise into the upright position then bent and undid
the rope at his ankles.  When he was free of the chair, she picked up the rope
still around his neck and gave it a gentle tug to indicate he was to follow her.

He did, realizing he didn't really have a choice just then and was clearly
surprised when she led him into the plush living room of her home a moment
later.  He saw the other man then, kneeling before a large, overstuffed chair,
bound as he had been that morning.  She snapped her fingers as they made their
way across the room.  He rose to his feet with ease, despite his bonds and
shuffled off in the direction of the kitchen they'd just left. 

As she slid into the chair and pulled him down before her, he could just hear
the rattling of pots and pans coming from the kitchen as the other man began to
prepare dinner.  She leaned forward slightly and pushed his head forward after a
moment and began to undo the ball gag's harness.  The large ball popped free and
he took a moment to work his aching jaw back into place as she spoke.

"Would you like some water?" she asked solicitously.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he knelt there, settling back on his
calves.  He had a ton of questions he wanted to ask, a long line of curses he
wanted to prevail upon her, but he had a deep seeded feeling that any speech,
however slight would only get that awful ball placed back in his mouth.

She smiled again and he sat there thinking that he liked her smile.  It was an
honest one, seemingly unfettered by fake sincerity.  She reached for a bottle of
water on the small table next to the chair and held it to his lips.  When he'd
drunk his fill she set it aside again and settled herself back into the large
chair.

The silence between them stretched out and finally Gage broke it with a soft
question.  "Why?"

She frowned slightly at him then smiled slowly.  "Why what Gage?"  she asked and
paused.  "Why didn't I call the police and turn you in?  Or why have I kept you
tied up all day long?  Or better yet why am I not afraid of you...which would
you like answered first?"

He gulped again, dipping his head for a moment and lowering his eyes.  "All of
them." He stated as calmly as he could manage, shaking slightly in anger.

She chuckled and again he found himself drawn to the sound.  It rolled over him
in waves, like the warm water of an ocean.  He heard more than saw her settle
further into the chair as she answered his questions.  "I didn't call the police
because from the very start I didn't believe you actually capable of hurting
someone...anyone.  I've kept you tied up all day long to give you the chance to
calm down somewhat from last night.  And I'm not afraid of you for the same
reasons I stated above."

She leaned forward then and lifted his chin again to stare into his eyes as she
added her next words.  "From the moment your hand descended over my mouth I knew
you weren't dangerous." She said softly caressing his cheek.  "Just a little
lost and afraid." She said slowly, her head tilting to one side as she continued
to stare into his eyes. 

She sat back and reached out to the small table next to the chair and picked up
a medium sized box.  Setting it on her leather-clad legs, she opened it and
began to remove some items he couldn't quite make out in the growing darkness of
the evening.  Pouring some of the water onto a small scrap of cloth she reached
out and began to dab at his forehead.

He hissed, pulling away slightly as the pain from her touch rang out in his
mind.  "Easy now Gage, I'm not going to hurt you, but you've got a nasty gash
from the accident that needs to be looked after..." she said with a soft smile. 

He relaxed again at that and realized she was right.  With everything that had
happened in the last 24 hours he hadn't had time to notice it in all honesty,
but now he sat calmly as she cleaned the cut.  When she was done and had it
bandaged, he smiled gratefully at her.

"Thank you..." he said simply, shifting a bit to try and get comfortable.

"Your welcome." She returned, putting away the first aid supplies.  Sitting back
again, she crossed her legs and stared into his eyes as she spoke.  "Now I
suppose it's time we talk about your situation, isn't it?" she asked with a
soft, slow chuckle.

He nodded again, still not trusting himself to speak.  Finally, when she said
nothing at first, he again broke the silence between them.  "Please.  Please
untie me.  I...I promise I won't try anything." He said, shifting against the
bounds as best he could.  "This...this is really uncomfortable."

"Oh I'm sure it is." She replied, but made no move to do as he'd asked.  She
leaned forward in the chair and turned his chin toward her and smiled into his
eyes.  "I'd like to believe you wouldn't try anything Gage, honestly I would,
but I don't think that untying you would be in my best interest at the moment."

"DAMMIT WOMAN!" he cursed, launching himself as far forward as his limited
amount of movement would allow.  "I SAID UNTIE ME!" he bellowed a second time as
he attempted to push her and the chair over.

For her part she sighed, placing a boot clad foot into his chest and giving him
a surprisingly hard shove.  He flopped backwards and grunted as he landed on his
bound arms then rolled onto his side.  Rising she appeared in his line of sight
a moment later, the deadly ball-gag harness in her hands as she squatted next to
his head.

"YOU FUCKING BIT..." he cursed but the words were cut short as the ball was
shoved behind his teeth again.  "MMMMPPPHHHTTTT..." he tried a second time as
she buckled up the ensemble tightly.  He tried to fight her off, kicking out his
legs and rolling around, but she seemed ready for it and soon had the infernal
thing done up.  "MMMMPPPHHHHTTTT..." he cursed again as he flopped around on the
floor.

She calmly rolled him onto his flat, well-muscled stomach and before he knew
what to do, he heard the dreaded sound of a padlocked being clicked shut.  He
pulled at his ankles then and found them held together with no freedom of
movement at all.  He heard her move off slightly then return and felt his ankles
being pulled upwards toward his naked ass.  Within mere seconds she had knotted
a rope around the padlock, threaded it threw his wrists and was pushing one end
threw a ring in the back of the head harness.

With a boot-clad foot in the small of his back she pulled at the rope, hard,
causing the ball in his mouth to sink even deeper as his wide chest and
shoulders were lifted off the plush carpet of her living room floor.  He
grunted, continuing to struggle as his back was painfully bowed and his bound
hands sunk beneath his upturned ankles.

"MMMPPPHHHTTTT..." he grumbled, trying to twist his head this way and that
against the strong rope that pulled at the ball.  Finally, after some moments of
useless struggle he relaxed, at least as much as he could, and sighed slowly
thankful that at least in this new position the rope on his cock and balls was
no longer being pulled tight.

He realized as the pressure eased that he had to piss.  Bad.  His eyes grew wide
then and he grunted behind the ball, trying to roll onto his side to ease the
weight on his bladder.

She knelt before him and smiled an evilly wicked smile that didn't quite reach
her eyes.  "I'll just bet that you have to pee..." she said slowly.  "Don't
you?"

"MMMMPPHHHTTTT..." he grunted, nodding his head as much as he could.

"Well, I guess I'll have to grant you this one boon, seeing as how I really
don't want my expensive carpet ruined..." she stated softly. 

She disappeared for a moment then he felt the toe of her boot underneath his
side as she lifted him without effort.  Once on his side, his head still pulled
back painfully, he felt her loosen the knot at the base of his balls.  He almost
started right then and there, but her next words made him still.

"You won't let go until I tell you too." She stated in a commanding tone that
let him know any disobedience on his part would bring upon him nasty
consequences.  He felt her take a hold on his limp cock and couldn't help the
beginnings of the erection that sprung to life.  It had been too long since he'd
been touched by a woman, any woman, and despite the circumstances, his
traitorous body reacted.

He groaned when she chuckled softly, closing his eyes and moaning as she began
to lightly stroke him.  He shuddered fighting off the urge to pee over the
wonderful sensations her light touch was creating. 

When he was half erect, he felt her shove the tip of his head against a bottle
and speak in a soft command.  "You may pee..."

He couldn't have helped himself just then, even if he wanted to defy her and not
let loose of his bodily functions.  He groaned again, this sound closer to
relief than anything else as his bladder emptied into the bottle of it's own
accord.  When he finally finished, she shook his cock, like any man would,
getting the very last drops.  Again he groaned, finding himself enjoying her
touch. 

She moved away slightly and he could hear her doing something with the bottle. 
Then she was back, her finger's lightly beginning to stroke his cock with a
lover's touch.  He growled this time, shifting his hips as much as he could,
though even he couldn't tell whether he was trying to get away or not.  She
seemed undaunted by this and merely continued to stroke him, her perfectly
manicured nails roaming up and down the sides of him, gently caressing his
quickly growing erection.

He shuddered a second time then groaned loudly as he felt her warm, hot mouth
take him deeply into her throat.  She chuckled, the sound rumbling threw him and
that was all it took for his cock to spring into a full-blown hard-on, despite
the circumstances.  He whimpered behind the ball, struggling unconsciously to
push himself deeper into her hot mouth.  When he realized he couldn't, he
growled in frustration and bit down hard on the ball between his teeth.

"You like that don't you?" she asked as she pulled away from him.

He whimpered softly as the cool air touched the raging erection and tried to
shift toward her on the floor. 

"That's good to know..." she said with another soft chuckle. 

"MMMMPPPHHHTTTT..." he cried out as she again tightened the noose of rope around
his now rock hard cock and balls.  He struggled against the hog-tie into which
she'd placed him as she tightened down the rope just enough to ensure his
erection wouldn't diminish then calmly rolled him back onto his stomach.

He whimpered softly as he touched the carpet and was quickly trying to hump
against the floor to gain relief and finish what she'd started.  She laughed
this time, from high above him as he struggled to bend his hips and rub himself
against the soft floor.  He soon found out why she'd laughed when he realized
after several moments of struggling that no matter how he shifted, with the
noose of rope wrapped tightly around his raging cock and balls there was no way
he would be able to get himself over the edge.

The tight hog-tie ensured he couldn't lift himself off the floor enough to gain
any leverage.  All his body weight rested on his hips now and no matter how much
he tried to shift and squirm there was no way to ease up enough to create the
friction he needed.  Even rolling back onto his upper thighs didn't provide
enough friction and only caused him pain as all of his weight was shifted onto
the erection itself.  He tried rolling onto his chest then, but even his brute
strength wasn't enough against the tight ropes that bowed him.

With a growling, mewling whimper he finally stilled himself, his hips
unconsciously taking over where his mind left off.  They continued to shift,
squeezing and rocking as much as he was allowed against the carpet in the futile
hope of gaining relief.  Tears of frustration sprang to his eyes as his body
began to sweat, his need to orgasm slowly overcoming his conscious will, as he
lay there helplessly bound and gagged.

She squatted into his line of sight then and smiled, reaching out to softly
caress his cheek around the straps of the harness on his face.  "If you're a
good boy, I might just finish this before the night is out..." she said softly
then moved off.

Some part of him resisted her statement, promising himself that no matter what
she did he wouldn't succumb to her.  But the other part of him, the part between
his thighs, cried out deafeningly with his need for relief.  He whimpered softly
in response, his eyes blazing angrily up at where she had been just the moment
before.

The next hours passed slowly for Gage.  Lying as he was he couldn't see more
than what was in front of him which was barely a few inches off the floor. 
After her statement she'd moved off and he heard her settle into the chair
behind him.  A television he couldn't see switched on, was run threw several
stations before ending up on the news.

As the broadcast began, he at least had an idea of the time at long last.

"Our top story tonight is the seeming disappearance of convicted murderer Gage
Weston..." the voice of a female reporter was saying as the broadcast began.

He grunted and groaned, struggling to cry out helplessly.  ~I'm not missing...~
his mind screamed.  ~I've been kidnapped by a beautiful slightly demented and
sick, woman...Please...HELP ME!~ it added before he knew what his own thoughts
were about.  ~Come get me...~ he begged helplessly.  ~Take me back...anything is
better than this torture...~

A mewling whimper escaped from behind the ball as the reporter continued to go
over his escape, the late night chase threw the streets of Chicago, and his
subsequent disappearance. 

"The Police are asking your help tonight..." the reporter was finishing up.  "If
you've seen this man..." there was a pause and he figured his picture was
flashed on the screen.  "Do not approach him...he is to be considered armed and
dangerous...call this number..." Again there was a pause, then finally, "and
give the local police station your location..."

"In other news..." the voice of a male reporter picked up without missing a beat
and the broadcast moved on.

He heard her soft chuckle and another mewling whimper escaped him as she spoke. 
"What do you think, Gage?  Should I pick up the phone and call?" she asked in a
taunting voice. 

"MMMPPPHHTTTT..." he tried to beg.  ~YES!  God's yes...PLEASE call lady...~ his
mind screamed out.  ~At least then I'd be able to move...to be free...to touch
myself...~ his mind added.  He gave a shuddering jerk as her naked foot reached
out to touch his upturned shin.

In his struggles he hadn't heard her move the chair to his side, but realized
she had done just that as her warm, strong toes began to slowly knead a path up
along his straining thigh muscles.  He whimpered as her foot moved from his skin
then began to slowly dig beneath his hips.  The touch of her toes on his raging
hard-on was 'almost' enough to send him over the brink, but not quite.   He
whimpered softly a second time as he tried to lift his hips and give her more
access.  Her other foot stopped him though as she placed it firmly in the middle
of his back, beneath his hands and kept him pressed tightly to the floor.

~OH GODS...~ he moaned.  ~Please...please...~ he wanted to beg as the tips of
her toes slowly began to caress the length of his cock.  ~Please...please...~ he
whimpered again.  ~GODS WOMAN...stop this torture...~ his thoughts added as he
tried to rock against her touch and send himself over the edge.

She did just that a scant second later, as if sensing his thoughts.  He moaned
out, the sound echoing off into the silence and tried to roll onto his side. 
She chuckled again, a dark rumble of sound and he heard the other man shuffling
into the room with a clink of the chain.  He couldn't actually see what was
happening but surmised what might be in the next moments.

The other man, laden with a tray knelt beside the chair, moving with practiced
ease as he lowered himself at her feet.  Gage could hear several locks being
undone, then a soft pop as the man's own head harness was removed.

There was a slight pause then a soft, "Thank you Mistress," in a deeply rumbling
voice.

"Your welcome Deacon." Was her soft reply, then,  "What have you prepared for me
tonight?"

"Your favorite Mistress." Came Deacon's soft, deep voice.  "Fillet Mignon,
sauteed in your special mushroom sauce, a vegetable melee, with creamy mashed
potatoes on the side."

"And a glass of my favorite white wine to wash it all down..." she said and Gage
could hear the smile in her voice.  He didn't see her reach out and caress
Deacon's strong cheek nor his responsive and telling lean into her touch as if
he craved that and nothing more in thanks for his efforts.

Gage's stomach rumbled up loudly from his position on the floor as the heavenly
smell of the dinner reached his senses.  Torn between his need for a release and
his body's craving for sustenance, he could only lie there and whimper softly. 
The next twenty minutes or so were pure, unbelievable torture as he heard her
begin to eat.  She obviously fed Deacon as well for he muttered a soft "Thank
you Mistress," every few moments.

When she was finished, taking her obvious time, she spoke commandingly.  "Have
you prepared a plate for our guest?" she asked as he heard her plate being set
aside.

"I have Mistress." Deacon stated softly, his voice sounding as if his head was
bowed.

"You may feed him then."

Chapter Four

Gage couldn't believe the audacity of the woman that held him prisoner.  After
her statement giving permission for Deacon to feed him, she risen and moved out
of the room.  Deacon had disappeared for a short time as well before reappearing
in his limited line of sight.  He slid gracefully into a cross-legged, Indian
style position in front of Gage's hog-tied form and began to undo the buckles
that held the ball-gag in his wide-open mouth.

Even with it removed, the straps of the accompanying harness kept his head
pulled backwards so that he was unable to lower his head.  "Man...get me out of
this..." were Gage's first words as the ball was popped free.  "That woman is a
psycho..." he added, shifting his eyes upward to lock with Deacon's as he
renewed his efforts to free himself.

"Shhhh..." the man named Deacon cautioned him.  "If she hears you talking out of
turn she'll punish us both.  Now be quiet and eat while you can..."

"PUNISH US!" Gage bellowed.  "WHAT THE HELL!" he added a second or so before he
heard the telltale click of shoes on the hardwood floors of the hallway.

"Awwww shit..." Deacon muttered, setting Gage's plate on the floor just inches
from his nose as he quickly shifted up into a kneeling position.  Laying his
shackled hands on his muscular thighs, he bowed his head until his chin touched
his chest and softly whispered toward Gage.  "Now you've done it."

"So..." she said slowly from above and behind him.  "It seems our guest is more
interested in talking than eating yes?"

Gage could just see Deacon slowly nod in the growing shadows of the room.  "Yes
Mistress."

"Hmmm..." she said as her feet appeared at the corner of his limited line of
sight.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH...LET ME GO!" Gage bellowed in rage, struggling to move, to
lash out at her in anyway he could, which amounted to nothing more than words. 

"Deacon..." she commanded softly and Gage was surprised to see the other man
jump to do her bidding even though she hadn't said more than his name.

The ball to the gag was forced back between his teeth.  Despite his efforts to
keep them tightly clenched, Deacon merely sighed and pinched his nose shut. 
When Gage opened his mouth to take in a breath of air the ball slid in with
little effort.  Buckled back into place he growled loudly, struggling again to
move, to lash out angrily as a nearby lamp switched on.

Dispelling the shadows of the evening, he blinked a couple of times in the
brightness then glared angrily up at her as she moved a chair into his line of
sight and slid gracefully into it.  "I would have thought that a convicted felon
such as yourself would have learned that your actions have consequences." She
stated knowingly.

"MMMMPPHHHTTTT..." he growled up at her, shaking angrily against the cuffs and
ropes that held him. 

He realized slowly that she'd changed clothes.  The tight leather pants she'd
worn earlier in the evening were gone.  In its place was a soft looking, full
skirt of blue silk that perfectly matched her eyes.  A modest looking pair of
heels, died to match the skirt adorned her feet, and a tight corset looking
thing hugged her upper body, pushing up her well-endowed chest.  Her tanned legs
peeked out at him from underneath the long hem and he realized she wasn't
wearing stockings.  Her hair had been coiffed atop her head, with soft tendrils
hanging down to frame her face. 

She smiled slowly, the same honest one he'd been admiring sometime before, and
despite the anger in his eyes he felt his large heart skip a beat and slam
painfully against his ribs.  Once more he found himself wishing for different
circumstances.  Found himself wishing he wasn't a convicted felon, lying
hog-tied at her feet, but was instead the man he'd been before...before...

He cut the thoughts off and grunted angrily again as she spoke, her soft voice
filled with disappointment.  "Well Gage Weston, you will learn that such
behavior does have severe consequences in this house."

She rose then, moving away from him and he grunted out something that could have
been a pleading whimper as he struggled to move. 

"See to him Deacon..." he heard her command after a moment.

"Yes Mistress." Was the other man's reply.

"You know where I'll be if you need me tonight." She added and Deacon's muffled
grunt responded. 

A door opened somewhere nearby and there was a moment of clinking chains,
snapping padlocks, and muffled grunts.  A muffled groan and a whimper followed
just a moment before he heard the front door open and softly close.  Deacon
reappeared in his line of sight and flashed him a momentary look of anger, as
Gage was able to take in what the Mistress had done to him.

Gone were the chains that had allowed him some movement.  In their place was a
dastardly looking corset of leather.  It hugged Deacon's wide, well-muscled
chest like a second skin.  Cuffs had been attached to his upper arms and were
held in place by tiny, silver padlocks.  Another lock bound each of his arms
tightly to his sides at the elbows and wrists ensuring that even if he wanted to
lift his arms he couldn't.  Strong mittens covered his hands, balling them into
tight, useless fists. 

A large O-ring had been shoved behind his teeth, propping his jaw even wider
than Gage's own.  A pair of hard looking leather biker shorts had been worked
over his legs, covering his once naked thighs and pelvis.  Sewn together, they
held his legs tightly closed with the top disappearing beneath the equally stiff
corset.  A strip of leather had been worked into a hole in front of the knee
length shorts and was tightly padlocked at the back, looking like it was trying
to cut the poor man's ball sac in half.

Gage groaned in sympathy and felt his own, undiminished erection remind him of
its presence with a painful jerk against the floor.  He shifted again, trying in
vain to gain his relief against the carpet.  The heavenly scent from the plate
just inches from his face wafted up on an unseen breeze and invaded his senses
again, momentarily cutting off his need for orgasmic relief in exchange for the
craved sustenance of the food.

He lifted his eyes upwards to where Deacon still stood and pleaded as best he
could around the gag, dipping his eyes toward the plate in indication.  Deacon
could only shrug his wide shoulders before hobbling off out of his line of
sight, as if to say, ~Sorry, I can't help you...but you brought it on
yourself...and me...~	

Gage heard Deacon move into another part of the house, leaving him with only his
thoughts, the painfully growing erection, and the heavenly smell of the food for
company.


Deacon moved about the house, feeling utterly useless.  Normally when the
Mistress went out at night, which was often, she merely locked his hands
together in front of him, with a short chain to the ever-present belt at his
waist.  His hands were free though, as well as his feet, though they too were
usually chained together.  But tonight, as his own punishment for not telling
Gage the rules and letting him talk out of turn, he was bound as tightly as the
new addition to their family.

He flopped his mitten-covered hands against his thighs in frustration, yanking
uselessly at the sturdy locks that held his arms immobile.  Granted his feet
were free of their usual chain, but he still wore the permanently welded ankle
cuffs.  Beneath the cuffs on his wrists, the same sturdy, permanently affixed
silver bands felt comforting against his skin. 

He sighed as he wandered about the house, trying to use his tongue to move the
O-ring in his mouth.  It was as useless as being able to free his arms but, like
Gage, he felt the need to at least try.  His wanderings took him threw every
part of the house, except for the living room, and he sighed with the pleasant
memories each room brought.

He realized as he passed her home office and glanced at the calendar that he'd
been with The Mistress for almost a year now.  He smiled softly around the
O-ring and stood leaning against the doorjamb, staring into the room.  The large
oak desk in the center of the room was as grand as the woman that often sat
behind it.  Polished smooth and clear of any paperwork, its surface glittered at
him beneath the small lamp that illuminated it.  His own hands kept that surface
clean and polished to a high shine on a daily basis. 

Her computer sat quietly on the desktop, turned off for the moment and he
groaned as his eyes roamed to his own computer, sitting in the far corner of the
room.  Over the year he'd been living with her, she'd made special
accommodations that befit his situation.  Because he was kept in chains, day in
and day out, she'd commissioned a specifically designed desk just for him.  It
was short, just high enough off the floor for him to slide beneath it in a
kneeling position.  The rolling keyboard slid in and out on hidden tracks and
was long enough that no matter how short the chain she put between his wrists
and his waist he'd be able to type.  The monitor sat at what would be his eye
level and the cordless, track-ball mouse had been permanently affixed into a
slot that was usually within easy reach of his bound hands.

If she was feeling particularly devilish and cuffed his hands behind him, she'd
even designed a stick that fit into any one of half a dozen gags he was known to
wear so that he could still type, albeit very, very slowly.  Special eyebolts
had also been fitted into the floor at various angles around the desk, so if
needed, or it pleased her, she could bind him tightly into position until his
work was finished.

He'd spent many an evening, after dinner had been served, learning to master the
art of "stick typing" as he called it, and could now type almost as fast with
the single implement as he could his own fingers.  He still tended to stumble
when using the mouse, but he was learning.

He sighed around the O-ring in his mouth again and thought back over the last
year.  Deacon's case was special and he considered himself extremely lucky. 
He'd met The Mistress about a year and a half ago at a society party given by
the Mayor of Chicago himself.  It was a charity function; something that had
bored Deacon to tears for many a year, but this night had been different from
the very beginning.

He'd shown up on time, looking dapper and handsome in his tailor made tuxedo. 
He'd given the perfunctory greetings to those in attendance; then moved off to
find a quiet corner and a much needed drink.  He'd had a rough week all together
and really, honestly didn't feel like attending, but as his secretary had
reminded him, it was his duty as CEO of one of the largest electronics companies
in Chicago to at least make an appearance. 

So he had.  Immediately he was bored to tears as the conversations around him
went from polite greetings threw the gamut of weather, politics and finally
settled on the inevitable, the economy.  Like just about everyone else in the
room, the firm was hurting in the declining state of the Union and just
beginning to waver under the pressure. 

He knew, deep in his heart, that if things didn't change and soon, himself and
the 10,000 other people that worked for him would soon be out of a job.  His
family had owned the company for more generations that even he could count and
he felt horrible that it was going to be him to loose everything.  At the time,
he'd just been promoted to CEO, his own father hoping that a fresh perspective
could and would turn things around, despite the failing economy.

But try as he might, even with all his college education, Deacon just couldn't
seem find the one thing that would make the difference between success and
failure.  That was when she had walked into the room...and his life.

From the moment he'd seen her descend down the three small steps at the front of
the room and head toward the Mayor to make her greeting, he'd been in love.  Or
at the very least, lust.  She was gorgeous, but not in the 'classic' way most
thought of as beauty.  Overly tall for a woman, her broad shoulders, trim waist,
and long legs testified to many a year of exercise.  Her hair, like earlier
tonight, was coiffed atop her head with soft tendrils hanging down past her
shoulders and well-endowed breasts to frame her plain, but beautiful face.

Every male eye in the room turned at her commanding presence as she moved among
them, smiling and nodding to those she knew.  Her dress that night had been a
soft looking green that screamed out to be touched.  Similar to the one she'd
left in earlier, it fluttered about her feet, softly trailing out a few inches
behind her and giving the impression that she should have been at a cotillion in
the deep south 100 years ago, instead of at a high-society charity function in
Chicago in the year 1998.

Deacon slowly closed his eyes and relived that night as he had so many times in
the last year and a half.  She'd made her greeting to the Mayor and his wife
then moved off further into the room, stopping at the groups that had formed and
speaking softly with those she'd nodded too as she arrived.  Without realizing
it, he'd pushed off the wall and made a bee-line right for her, his intent to at
least know her name, if not ask her out for dinner.

Like bees drawn to a flower the men of the room began to flock around her, as if
she alone was the Queen of all she surveyed and they were there to do her
bidding.  As he jockeyed himself closer, her twinkling laughter reached his ears
and he knew, deep within his heart of hearts, he was lost.  Completely and
totally lost.  All thoughts of his life simply vanished, melting away with that
one simple, yet brutally honest sound.

Eventually he'd managed to work his way to the front of the growing crowd of men
and he came to a shuddering halt at the edge of the inner circle.  She was even
more beautiful to him up close, but in her presence now, he found himself simply
unable to speak.  It was as if, without a word, she managed to command him from
that moment forward.  That first night she never even looked at him.  Didn't
even speak in his general direction, but her tone of voice, simple, strong and
brutally frank with those she did speak too, was enough to give him vividly
erotic dreams for weeks afterward.

That night, as he'd stood there just watching her, he'd known somewhere deep
inside that she had exactly what it was he'd searched for all his life.  Even
though, in all reality, he wasn't able to say exactly what 'that' was.  Just
that she had it, and he was almost desperate to get it. 

The rest of the night he was never more than a few feet from her, content to
just watch and listen to her voice.  Thoughts of his failing business never
entered his mind in those hours, never crossed the plane to his consciousness as
the party wound it's way into the history books.  Each time she laughed he felt
a shudder course the length of his spine, each time she smiled he felt his heart
skip over itself, each time she spoke, her smooth, deeply rich commanding tones
sent a warmth like he'd never known coursing through his very veins.

He didn't even know her name until a few days later when a mysterious package
had shown up on his desk.  It was devoid of the usual shipping marks and was
addressed in a bold, flowing script with only his name.  For just a brief moment
he'd been terrified.  With all the recent events in the world's history, the
bombs, the attacks upon US citizen's on foreign soil, he'd thought it might be a
bomb or something, but then her scent had wafted off the package and he'd known.

How she'd gotten it past his secretary and into his office, he never did know,
but he didn't honestly care in all truth. It only mattered that it was from her,
nothing more, nothing less he mused as he ripped the plain brown wrapper away
from the box and it's contents.

A low whistle of appreciation escaped his lips as he lifted the hinged cover of
the black velvet box.  Inside, two highly polished silver bands sat nestled in
more soft looking black velvet.  They glinted at him in the early afternoon sun
streaming in the windows behind his chair and gods help him tears pooled in his
eyes at the beauty of the gift she'd given him.  Each of the bands was about two
inches wide and lay open as if merely waiting for the right wrist to lock
around.

A folded scrap of paper, tucked neatly to the inside of the lid caught his
attention and he reached for it with shaking fingers.  The air left his lungs as
he unfolded it and read the decisively bold, flowing script.

"Snap these around your wrists and come to me...Mistress Elaina," was all the
note had to say. 

He gulped, hard, feeling as if he was precariously balanced upon a great chasm
and the next decision he made would be his last.  With only the briefest of
pauses he reached out and picked up the first of the two silver bands.  Sliding
it over his skin, he gave a slight shiver as the coolness of the metal invaded
his senses, but snapped it closed with a decisive click of finality.

He struggled now, visibly shaking himself out of the memory and straining
against the locks that held his arms immobile in an unspoken need to touch the
gleaming silver at his wrists.  But he couldn't and he groaned dejectedly,
wanting for a moment to kick himself, not to mention the man hog-tied in the
living room, a few good times.

He pushed himself off the doorjamb though and began his useless wanderings about
the house once more.  The months after the day he'd snapped the silver around
his wrists, had been a slow, but steady journey into full out slavery and
submission.  As the time had passed, he'd found out exactly what the 'it' was
that she had and he wanted. 

Control. 

A stern, seemingly endless, control over everything in her life.  Including him. 
After that day, the weeks had turned to months and slowly he found himself
spending more and more time at her feet, instead of running his business.

Surprisingly enough though, his business didn't suffer in the slightest. 
Instead it improved...vastly improved, for with a simple word from her contracts
began to flood in.  From every corner of the market, the government, private and
corporate orders began to boost his business beyond even his modest dreams.  And
she began to take over more and more of his day-to-day business dealings,
leaving him more and more time to become the slave to her he found himself
craving to be.

Content to be chained, hand and foot, gagged more often than not and puttering
around her home.  Their home, actually, even though he still legally kept a
condo on the upper west side of the city.  He couldn't remember the last time
he'd stepped foot in the place, but he knew she went there frequently to host
parties and entertain clients when the need arose.

That was where she'd gone tonight, to entertain a group of English businessmen
about to give the company another large contract with the British Airways
Corporation.  If she gained the contract, which he knew she undoubtedly would,
it would just be another feather in her cap.  Not his.

And he was content with that, for she'd done a far better job of running things
than he ever had.  Even his father thought so, as he'd eluded too at one of
their monthly 'dinner' meetings the week before. 

"Boy son, that Elaina sure has a head for the business...Good thing you put her
on the staff as a VP." The older man had stated simply.

"That she does father..." Deacon had replied simply, then moved the subject
matter away from his Mistress.

To the outside world, Deacon had become an elusive recluse, with all business
matters being sent through Elaina.  To his family, his father in particular, he
was always available, though the older man didn't know that his phone calls were
forwarded to Elaina's home instead of his own office.

The only one within the corporation that knew of his and Elaina's special setup
was his most loyal secretary, Joselyn.  She was paid quite handsomely for her
silence and had developed a wealth of lies and sidetracks for anyone that came
looking for Deacon personally.  A beautiful young woman in her own right, the
other perk to her continued silence was that she was often invited to their home
to be serviced by Deacon himself at the bidding of his Mistress.

Deacon truthfully didn't mind, because he'd always liked Joselyn on a personal
level anyway, and if his tongue and hands ensured her silence, then it was all
the better for him because it meant he could and would continue to stay right
where he was.  Chained, gagged and helplessly devoid of all control over
anything at all.

Chapter Five

Deacon eventually returned from his aimless wanderings of their home to find
Gage exactly as he'd left him.  The poor fellow didn't have much else to do but
lie there on the floor and Deacon's earlier rage was forgotten as he stood
staring down at the pitiful, weakly struggling figure.  He wanted to tell the
man what a good life he could have with The Mistress, but the O-ring prevented
that.

Just like his own failing life, he knew that Mistress Elaina could help the man,
maybe even get his conviction for murder overturned at some point, but at the
very least hide him from the authorities.  Deacon had been kneeling at her feet
when she'd done her research earlier in the day and had seen the 'evidence'
against Gage.  It was circumstantial at best, with only an unsure eyewitness to
place someone that vaguely resembled Gage leaving the vicinity of the crime at
the time. 

There was no DNA, no physical evidence other than a slightly older woman's vague
description for the authorities to go on.  Gage's arrest had been a matter of
circumstance as well, with an anonymous tip to a crime stoppers hot line being
the proverbial nail in the coffin so to speak.  The caller had given Gage's
name, phone number, address and last known whereabouts only because his
description was remotely similar to that released by the police.  His trial had
been quick and condemning, with the prosecutor calling only the coroner, the
eyewitness, and one psychologist to the stand as evidence.

The coroner had testified to the brutality of the murder, the eyewitness had
condemned Gage to conviction with finger pointing, and the psychologist had
testified to having seen Gage for six months the year previous to help him with
anger management.  Apparently Gage had had some problems at his work, a
construction company, and had flown off the handle several times in the presence
of his supervisors for various reasons. 

Despite his temper though, he was a good worker, loyal and timely and the
company didn't want to loose him as an employee.  So they'd opted to pay for his
visits to the doctor instead.  Deacon was sure that if the poor man had known
that six months of therapy would condemn him to a life in prison he probably
would have forgone the treatment and just walked away from the job.  Like so
many, Deacon included, the failing economy of the time ensured Gage had a need
to keep his job and thus underwent the visits. 

Deacon sighed out around the O-ring when Gage gave off a mewling whimper and
wished he could ease the poor man's position, even if only a little bit.  Eyeing
a pillow at one end of couch he moved to it and after some doing had it knocked
to the floor.  Using his feet, he kicked it along until it was closer to Gage's
helplessly upraised chin.  Sliding the cold plate of food aside with his foot,
he maneuvered the pillow underneath Gage's chin and smiled slightly around the
O-ring in his mouth when Gage's grateful gaze rose to his.

He shrugged a second time as if to say, ~It's the best I can do bound as I
am...but you're welcome...~	


Gage sighed gratefully as the additional height of the pillow eased up the
strain on his shoulders and neck.  He'd never been in such a humiliating
position in his entire life.  Bound up like the proverbial Christmas present he
could only lay there, helplessly struggling to reach something that held him and
free himself.  The cold plate of food had long been forgotten as the hours
passed, but his erection held even tighter by the noose of rope around his cock
and balls hadn't been.

The pillow only served to reinforce its presence as more of his weight was
rolled back onto his upper thighs and hips.  He groaned, though whether it was
out of relief or pain even he couldn't tell.  Deacon had disappeared out of his
view again and he could only wonder what circumstances had brought him under the
ladies thumb.  If he'd known it had been a willing conversion from free man to
bound slave, he might have wondered as to Deacon's sanity, or lack there of.

But he didn't know that, so he could only lie there and speculate.  With no
noise, the TV long having been turned off, and only the bottom of a chair to
stare at, he found himself sinking into a depression he hadn't felt since his
arrest some months before.

From the beginning he'd professed his innocence.  Claiming that while he had
indeed been in the area of the murder on that night, he'd only been driving
through the neighborhood and hadn't stopped.  Of course, that left him without
any sort of alibi whatsoever, and that combined with the testimony from his
doctor and the eyewitness account of him driving hurriedly away from the scene,
it was enough for a conviction.

Especially with the election of the Prosecutor looming on the horizon, the city
seemed to feel the need to put away an innocent man for good.  Gage wasn't
wealthy, far from it, he was a working stiff like anyone else.  His parents, god
love them, were borderline poverty, living off the meager retirement his father
had earned from 40 some years of back breaking labor in a plant and his mother's
teacher's retirement. 

In the end it amounted to a barely livable income between the two and Gage did
what he could to help.  But he had his own bills to pay, or at least he had
until...until that night.  Gage had always been a bit high strung.  From his
earliest memory he knew he had a temper.  But he'd done what he could to control
it; at least most of his life.  But there were times, especially when he became
frustrated with something, that his temper would gain a hold of him and he'd
just simply forget how to react, letting his anger and fists do the talking for
him.

In all honesty though, he'd been fortunate that he'd never truly hurt anyone and
it had been mostly the inanimate that had suffered his wrath.  Doors, walls,
desks, anything he could punch to release his anger.  He'd been honest with the
doctor he'd seen, the one that had been his downfall at the trial, telling him
how he just didn't seem to be able to help himself when he got angry.

His parents, when they had seen their only son dragged away in handcuffs, had
done what they could to help.  But it just wasn't enough and the poor public
defender that had gotten his case had been vastly over-whelmed and out matched
by the seasoned prosecutor.   

Gage sighed softly around the ball in his mouth and tried to blink away the
tears forming in his eyes.  As he'd lain there, he'd given up struggling to free
himself, only hoping that eventually the lady would come home and do it for him. 
The first chance he got though he was going to escape, just like he had from the
county jail.  As he'd waited all those months in the lock-down for his trial,
believing he'd be proven innocent from the lack of evidence, he'd still kept a
wary eye on the guards and their movements. 

While he didn't profess to being the brightest of men; he'd done alright in
life.  After high school, he'd gone on to a local community college then worked
his way up to a foreman for the construction company he worked for. 

For those first years he'd done well, gaining somewhat of a hold on his own
temper.  It wasn't until the added responsibilities of being a foreman had been
placed on him that he found himself getting more and more agitated.  More and
more short- tempered, with himself and those that worked for him.  Ultimately,
ironically, his own admittance to his temper was his undoing.

But some part of him had watched, learning what he could from his cell and the
other prisoners around him until after his railroaded trial.  It wasn't until
after his sentence hearing that he got his chance to escape.  He was to be moved
to the Federal Penitentiary the next morning and knew the night he escaped was
going to be his last chance.  He waited until the guards had changed shifts,
knowing there were only a few on the nightshift to make his move.   After his
meager dinner and the change in shift, he'd stuck his finger down his own throat
and heaved his guts.

Waiting until the guard was making a bed check he began to moan deeply in pain,
folding himself in half on the cot as if he was consumed by cramps.  The guard,
maybe because it was an old trick, or because he sensed Gage's desperation
didn't believe his act at first, but with the evidence in the stainless steel
toilet, he didn't have much of a choice.  Two of them handcuffed him and half
walked, half dragged him toward the infirmary. 

Gage continued to moan deeply, shaking slightly as they moved along the
corridors.  He knew, from a recent visit, that the infirmary was set as close to
freedom as he was going to get.  Its position allowed the doctors and nurses to
come and go easily without the vigorous checks and gates the normal prisoners
had to endure each time.  Once inside he was handcuffed to the bed and the nurse
came to check him over.

The guard's left and Gage sprung into action.  Twisting he managed to get his
hands around the young woman's throat, cutting off any cry for help she might
have given. 

"Unlock them..." he commanded with a cold, desperate glint in his eyes.  He
never would have hurt the young woman, but he couldn't let her know that and he
saw he'd succeeded when she fumbled with the keys.  She managed to unlock the
cuffs around his wrists and he rose off the bed, hitting her once square in the
chin to knock her cold.  Picking her up gently he'd lain her in the bed and
scooped up her keys. 

He'd watched and knew which key would unlock the doors to the outside world and
a moment later he was sliding out and into the darkness of the night.  Running
desperately now, he'd managed to skirt the one-story building and onto the
street.  His chances of finding a vehicle were slim, but luck was with him as
the SUV he'd ultimately crashed was coming down the street at that exact moment.

Jumping in front of it, the guy behind the wheel slammed on his brakes to avoid
mowing him down.  Moving quickly Gage had jerked him out of the driver's side
with a muttered, 'I'm sorry' and took off in the still running vehicle.  He
hadn't thought much past his escape, but now that it had happened he knew the
only thing he could do was drive.

Which he did, for all he was worth.  Eventually, obviously with help from the
man to whom the SUV belonged, the police caught up to him.  What ensued was a
reckless, high-speed chase threw the streets of the city.  His only savings
grace was that it had been late at night and there weren't that many others out
at that time. 

So that was how he ended up hog-tied on this ladies living room floor.  He'd
managed, just briefly to loose the police in the suburb, but he didn't know the
streets and the curve, combined with his high speed had been the downfall for
the top-heavy vehicle.  By the time the police had caught up to him again, he
was out of the vehicle and hiding in the bushes next to her front door.  His
initial intent was to just stick to the shadows and hide until the police moved
a bit further away, but when she'd opened her door and came strolling out
casually he'd taken the opportunity to slip inside.

If he'd known what he was getting himself into, he would have gladly rose up out
of the bushes and shouted...~HERE I AM...TAKE ME!!~ and gone back to jail
without a fuss.

Any freedom, despite the tiny 10x10 area of his cell, was better than what he'd
endured so far at her hands. 

~Or was it?~ his mind wondered.  So far, despite the strict bondage she'd put
him into, she truly had been gentle with him.  Far more gentle than he had been. 
She hadn't threatened him, she hadn't beaten him, and she certainly hadn't shot
him with the gun he'd found in the SUV's glove box.  All of those were plusses
in his mind, even though he couldn't move.  He suddenly realized that the only
reason he was still hog-tied on the floor was because of his own behavior.

His mind then quizzed him as to what she would have done with him if he hadn't
acted the way he had.  Hadn't said the things he had thus far.  Would she have
eased up a bit?  Let him have some freedom of movement as she had when they'd
come into the living room early in the evening.  Granted he'd been forced to
kneel in front of the chair, but she hadn't done anything else beyond that until
he tried to attack her.

The biggest plus was that she hadn't yet turned him back over to the police.  He
tried to fathom what that meant, but couldn't because his erection chose that
moment to slam against the floor as her distinguishable scent reached his nose. 
He'd been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't heard the front door open again, but
he knew without having to see that it was indeed the lady of the house.

"Has he behaved Deacon?" came her soft question and he heard the rustle of her
silk dress as she came to sit in the chair he'd stared at all night long.

"He has Mistress." Was Deacon's soft reply somewhere in the vicinity of his
upturned knees and ankles.  She'd obviously removed his gag, but what else she'd
removed Gage couldn't tell.

"And are you remorseful for your own behavior?" she asked of Deacon next.

"I am Mistress." He returned and Gage could indeed hear the sincerity in his
voice.

"Tell me." She commanded as she crossed her long legs.

"Mistress," Deacon began.  "I am sincerely sorry that I removed Gage's gag
before I explained the rules of your house to him.  I have failed you and for
that I beg you forgive me and allow me to learn from my own failings to better
serve you in the future." He added with a bowed head.

"Very well, you may go." She stated, a satisfied smile on her face as he rose to
his feet and shuffled out of the room.  Her eyes roamed slowly down toward Gage
and the smile faded.  "As for you..." she paused, cocking her head to the side. 
"I think a night like that will do you just fine.  Somehow I doubt if I was to
remove that gag you'd be as sincere as Deacon was."

Before he could move, grunt, squeal, or blink, her long fingered hand reached
out and snapped off the nearby lamp, plunging him into complete darkness.


The rest of the night passed uneventfully.  As the minutes ticked by, counted by
the soft ticking of a nearby clock, Gage really began to realize how sorry he
was for what he'd said the evening before.  The lady wasn't a "bitch", she was
something...something he couldn't quite put his finger on.  But like Deacon, he
wanted to find out what it was. 

~No...~ he mentally berated himself in the lonely darkness, ~You need to find
out what it is...what she is...~ he corrected himself.  How she could so easily
turn the tables on him, going from a meek, extremely calm and confident hostage,
to a Queen in the space of a few heartbeats.

He thought back over it and realized the exact moment it had happened. It had
been her soft offer of food.  There was something underlying in her tone,
something as calm and cool as the rest of her, but commanding at the same time. 
Maybe it was the fact that no one, at least not in his recent history, had ever
offered to actually do something for him.  Not because they had to, but
seemingly just because they wanted too.

Or it simply could have been her naturally commanding presence.  Something he
desperately lacked and had tried so hard in the recent years to gain for
himself, but had failed at miserably.  Or it could have been...

He cut the train of thought off before he spent the rest of the night going over
the millions of 'what if...' scenarios.  There was no 'what if' here, only the
facts.  And the fact of the matter was, he was a convicted felon, destined to
spend the rest of his life in a tiny 10x10 cell in some upstate, desolate
penitentiary.  The only savings grace at his sentence hearing had been his lack
of previous criminal record.  Sure, he'd had his share of parking and speeding
tickets, what red-blooded American hadn't, but he'd always paid them on time and
there had never been a violent history connected with him.

The judge, thank the gods, had taken that into consideration and merely given
him a life sentence. 

~Merely...~ his mind cried out as the tears pooled in his eyes.  He couldn't
have stopped the tears even if he'd wanted too just then.  Up to this point,
throughout his mockery of a trial and sentencing, he'd calmly held to the hope
that the whole thing was just a bad dream.  That he'd wake up back in his bed,
in his apartment, with his cat purring contentedly on his wide chest.  But he
hadn't woken up, so he'd begun to bury his emotions deep inside, holding them at
bay and holding onto his sanity with the only thing he had...his anger...his
rage at the circumstances.

But now even that was gone, for at long last, he realized how truly helpless he
was to prevent whatever would happen next.  At least in his tiny cell, he had
some modicum of control, however slight, but now, bowed into a tight hog-tie he
realized there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the strange turn of
events his life had taken.  Or would take in the next hours and days.

His soft sobbing cries must have woken her because he heard her soft footfalls
coming down the stairs a moment later.  Without a word she came to him, undoing
the rope that held him practically bowed in half.  His aching muscles screamed
in agony as his body was at last allowed to stretch out.  His mewling cries grew
in volume and intensity as she helped him ease his legs flat. 

Moving the pillow from beneath his chin, which he'd flopped on in exhaustion
when the rope was undone, she replaced it with her own legs, easing him onto his
side so his cheek was now pillowed on her rock hard, yet surprisingly soft
thigh.  She stroked the side of his face then, as he lay against her crying soft
tears.

"Shhhh..." she whispered softly, stroking his head around the harness of the
gag.  "It's alright Gage...it's alright..."

Her words and gentle touch only made him cry all the harder, racking sobs that
shook his wide chest.  He was at last free to express the emotions he'd kept
hidden for so long.  She shifted again, easily lifting his bound form into her
own strong arms and cradling his weak, boneless body against her warm chest. 

"Shhhhh..." she cooed a second time, her voice soft and melodious against the
cheek cradled under her chin.  "It's alright Gage..." she added a scant
heartbeat later as he continued to cry like a lost little boy.

Her expert hands undid the straps to the gag, calmly slipping it off his head. 
His aching jaw popped back into place and he truly began to cry earnest and
sincere tears.  "I'm...so sorry..." he wailed against her neck.  "So...sorry..."
he continued to blubber over and over for a long while.

Her soft, gentle hands stroked his back and aching arms.  She cooed words of
gentle, meaningless nonsense until his sobs finally quieted and he lay still
against her chest.  "Shhhh..." she said a final time, having rocked him slightly
all the while that he cried.  "There, there now Gage..." she whispered softly as
she continued to stroke his back, chest and arms.  "It's alright." She added one
last time as he lay in her arms.  "You're safe now...you're safe..."

There was a long, almost natural silence between them, which he finally dared to
break.  He felt a slight shiver course over him, remembering the last time he'd
dared to speak first, but plunged ahead anyway.  "What...what are you going to
do..." he asked, the one question that had been burning in his mind for the last
hours.

When she didn't readily answer he feared he might have angered her again and she
was going to put him in that god-awful hog-tie, but finally she sighed softly,
speaking in a low, almost velvety tone.  "That all depends on you, Gage."

"Wha...what?" he asked, leaning back as far as he could in her arms to look up
into her face.

She chuckled, a sound he found he'd missed in the last hours, and spent a moment
to gently wipe away the tracks of his tears before speaking.  "The way I see
this situation is you have one of two choices." She began, continuing to stroke
his wide, handsome cheek even after the tears were gone. 

"You can either A) tell me now that you want to go back to jail.  At which
point, I'll let you back to the floor, get up and go call the police.  Of course
that brings with it a wealth of additional charges to the murder wrap, but I'm
sure you could have figured that out by now." She informed him coolly.

"Charges?" he croaked out around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat
and the sinking feeling in his stomach.  "What charges?

"Well, at the least there's kidnapping and breaking and entering..." she said
with a thoughtful look in the lights from the street outside.  "I'm not sure
what they call keeping me hostage, but I'm sure there's some legal term for it."
She said.

"But...but your door was..."

Anything else he might have added was cut off as she placed a gentle finger
against his lips.  "We both know the police wouldn't see it that way.  After all
you are an armed and dangerous felon Gage..." she said with another of those
telling chuckles.

He took a moment to think that one over and knew without a shadow of a doubt she
was right.  The police would indeed see this scenario in a whole different
light.  Like his professed innocence, he'd be railroaded into more charges,
quickly and efficiently.  "What's...what's option two?"

She reached out and softly stroked the hair out of his eyes, smiling down at
him, her bright white teeth creating a stark contrast in the darkness.  "You
stay here with me..." she stated simply.

Chapter Six

After those five, simple words Gage lay within her arms, debating the options
she'd presented him with.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity and realizing
he didn't really have a choice, he nodded slowly, burying his face against the
warmth of her neck as he gave his soft reply.

"I'll...I'd like to stay..." he whispered softly, his voice choking around the
lump in his throat and the sudden pounding of his heart.

She'd hugged him tightly then, a warm, but gentle response the likes of which
he'd only ever felt from his mother.  "I thought you might see things that way,"
she said softly, rubbing her cheek against his for a moment.  "Now, what say we
make you more comfortable, hmmm?" she asked.  Sliding from beneath him, she
pulled the pillow from the couch closer again and gently lay his head upon it
before moving off into the darkness.

"Now," her voice came to him even though he couldn't readily see her.  "Since
you're being punished, I can't untie you, but I can modify it a bit so you can
get some rest." She said as her voice came closer again.

"Please..." he begged softly as she began to fold up his legs again.  "not...not
the hog-tie..."

"Oh Gage..." she said calmly.  "Just be patient." She added as she worked for a
moment near his feet then moved up near his head again.  When she moved away
from his feet, what he couldn't see, but could readily feel was the many loops
of rope she'd wound around his calves and upper thighs bending his legs until
both almost touched.  The only thing keeping them from doing so was the cinch
she'd put between them, ensuring that he couldn't stretch out his legs at all. 
The bend to his legs didn't put any strain on his still screaming muscles, but
it wasn't the most comfortable of positions either. 

With the chain still locked between his knees and the padlock at his ankles, he
knew he wouldn't be able to open his legs at all no matter how much he strained. 
Loosening the rope at his elbows, she let them out just an inch or so, so that
if he wanted too, he would be able to roll over on his back during the night
without undo strain on his upper arms. 

"Open wide..." she said when she came up toward his head again.

"Please...no...not...tha..." but his begging pleas were cut short by the smaller
version of the ball gag that was pushed into his mouth.  Lifting his head
slightly she buckled it up tight at the back of his neck and stroked his head. 
This one wasn't as large as the black one he'd worn all day, but it was still
big enough to muffle any speech he might have tried to make.  "MMMMPPHHHTTTT..."
he whimpered up at her, turning his head and trying to rub it against the pillow
beneath him.

"Shhhh...now Gage." She said, softly stroking his struggling head again.  "You
understand I can't have you making a fuss and bellowing to high heaven..." she
added as he heard her rise to her feet and pad softly out of the room. 

~BUT I WON'T...~ his tried to scream out past the new gag.  The sound didn't
travel very far and he feared for a moment she'd left him alone again, but then
he heard her soft voice coming to him from the direction of the door.

"Sleep well."

"MMMMPPPHHHTTTT..." he cried out again, struggling to roll onto his back.  It
took some doing, but once he had he lifted his head from the pillow to look for
her, but she was already gone.


The next morning dawned bright and cheery, with the summer sunlight streaming in
threw her drapes and warming his slightly chilled skin.  As he blinked open his
eyes and got his first good look at the ceiling to her living room, he forgot
for a moment where he was and all that had happened in the last 24 hours. 

It all came slamming back into his mind though as he tried to sit up and found
the bonds she'd placed on him stopped him cold.  With a groan he bit down on the
hard rubber filling his mouth and simple lay there.  Until she came to him, or
sent Deacon, he was still just as helpless as he had been in the dark of the
night. 

The dawning of a new day hadn't changed anything, no matter how much he might
have wished it otherwise.  He heard them then, talking together in the kitchen
and groaned again as the smell of bacon, eggs and coffee drifted to his senses. 
Again his stomach growled angrily, seeming to think his throat had been cut, and
he struggled to sit up and move toward the food. 

After a few moments, their voices came closer and it was finally her that
appeared, squatting down beside him.  She was dressed in a simple pair of
sweats, but he still couldn't believe how beautiful she was.  Her long,
pitch-black hair fell over her shoulder in a wavy cascade and he shuddered
involuntarily as it softly caressed his naked chest.

"Hungry?" she asked.

He nodded, unable to voice his need to eat and she smiled moving to lift him
into a kneeling position beside the coffee table.  Pulling the chair around she
slid into it as Deacon appeared as well and knelt gracefully on the other side. 
His legs, upper body and hands still hadn't been freed and she smiled softly at
him as he knelt to place the tray strapped around his waist within easy reach of
her fingers.  He wasn't gagged anymore and Gage knew he wouldn't be either. 
After a moment, she reached over and gently pulled his head forward to undo the
large buckle at the back of his neck.

Taking a cue from Deacon he whispered a soft thank you then remained still and
quiet.  The two men exchanged quick glances and Gage felt his stomach warm
strangely as Deacon smiled in soft approval.  He'd never been one to swing that
way, but that one moment of approval from someone that was so obviously trusted
by this woman made him feel good nonetheless. 

Elaina reached out and took the plate from Deacon's waist and flipping on the
morning's news, she ate without glancing at either one of them.  When there were
only two bites remaining, she lifted one onto her fork and held it out in
Deacon's general direction.  Deacon leaned forward gracefully and took the bite
from the end of the fork without a word.  Sitting back on his calves as he
chewed then whispered a soft, "Thank you Mistress."

Without any acknowledgement whatsoever she lifted the last bite off the plate
and held it out in Gage's general direction.  He couldn't lift up onto his knees
like Deacon had, so he did the best he could and bent at the waist to strain
forward and finally gain the tasty morsel.  Chewing and swallowing, he took
another cue from Deacon and whispered a soft "Thank you."  He couldn't bring
himself to add the word "Mistress" just yet, but the warm smile she turned upon
'almost' brought the word forth anyway.

She rose then and Deacon followed suit, the tray at his waist rattling softly as
he hobbled off after her, leaving Gage alone.  He 'almost' called out to them,
wanting to beg for more food, but he saw it was unnecessary as both of them came
back into the room a few moments later.

This time, Deacon's tray was laden with two more plates, both full of generous
helpings and he slid into a graceful kneeling position beside the coffee table. 
The woman picked them off the tray and set them down then showed Gage how to use
what limited movement he did have to turn himself toward the small table.

When he took the initiative and squirmed forward on his own in order to get
closer, she praised him with a soft stroke of his head and an even softer smile
of approval. He felt his heart slam into his ribs and he smiled sheepishly in
return.  For reasons beyond him at that moment, he wanted her approval for
anything and everything he did. 

"Come to me when you're finished." She said by way of soft command then padded
out of the room on bare feet.

Gage shifted forward, bending at the waist to present her with his bound hands,
but she was already gone.  Turning to look at Deacon he was about to ask how
they would eat, when he saw for himself.  Without thinking the other man had
bent at the waist and was lapping up the food on his plate like an animal. 

At first Gage baulked, thinking that even he couldn't go that low, but then his
need and craving for sustenance outweighed his moral sense of propriety and he
bent toward the food.  It took a bit to get used to eating without his hands and
silverware, but eventually he managed to lick the plate relatively clean. 

Waiting until Gage had finished, Deacon rose to his feet and hobbled off with a
soft, "I'll be back soon..."

True to his word he returned, Mistress Elaina coming in a moment later.  Deacon
knelt before the plates again and she smiled at him, inspecting both before
patting his head like a dog.  Again Gage baulked and thought about saying
something, but her soft, affectionate touch to his own head at his cleaned plate
a moment later stilled the words in his throat.

She moved away and reappeared with two ball-gags looped over her wrist.  Placing
one into Deacon's willing mouth, she strapped it up and locked it down before
bending slightly to free his wrists from the belt and pull the mittens off.  He
smiled gratefully around the ball then took a moment to flex his fingers before
rising to stand.

She came to him then and he shook his head, his eyes pleading with her and
looking at the gag.  "Please...no...I...I...promise...I'll...be...goooo..." but
the rest was cut off as she simply slipped the gag behind his teeth.  Buckling
up the strap and locking it in place, she squatted beside him and untied the
ropes around his thighs and calves.  Unlocking the lock at his ankles next, she
replaced it with a short chain, similar to the one he'd seen on Deacon's feet
that first day.

She rubbed his cheek affectionately and then smiled into his eyes.  "Deacon will
show you the ropes around here.  Remember what he does, for tomorrow I will ask
the same of you." She said softly then left the men to their duties.

Deacon used his freed hands to help Gage shakily rise to his feet, then held his
upper arm until his legs could bare his weight without buckling.  Smiling around
his own ball, he led the man through the house to start the day.


Elaina spent the rest of her own morning at her computer.  It was a Friday and
she had nothing slated on her calendar.  After a quick phone call to Joselyn to
check on things in the office, she used the rest of her time to dig as deeply as
she could into Gage's case.

She knew already that it had been a railroad job, but she needed some way to
prove it, otherwise Gage would never be a 'free man'.  At least as free as she
was going to let him be.  But she needed to clear his name, once and for all, so
he could make the choice without the pressure of a looming prison sentence
hanging over his head.

It never crossed her mind that she could possibly fail in her efforts.  She
wouldn't fail.  No matter what he'd done in those first hours in her home,
something about him had drawn at her heartstrings, causing her to act way out
even her own mode of operations.  As with Deacon she knew off the bat that Gage
needed her.  Needed her to command him, to control him, to comfort him, to hold
him in the darkest hours of the night.  To simply be the part that was missing
in his life. 

Determined, she sat calmly at her computer going over every inch, every scrap of
'evidence' in his case.  She reread the public versions of the court
transcripts.  She read all the newspaper articles on the case, everything that
had been made public.  It all just seemed 'to' pat, to easy, to open and shut
for her liking.  When she realized she was getting nowhere with the 'public'
version she picked up the phone and dialed.

"Jerry, Elaina." She said when the phone was picked up a moment later.

"Elaina." A friendly male answered.  "It's been a long time."

"That it has." She replied then got right to the heart of the matter.  "I need a
favor."

"Always blunt my dear.  What can I do you for?"

"I need everything you have on the Gage Weston case." She said in soft command.

"What?" the male asked incredulously.  "Why?  Whatever in the world for?"

"Well," she returned calmly.  "When your boys were chasing him the other day he
crashed in my neighbor's yard and it peaked my curiosity." She stated in an
almost bold-faced lie.  She couldn't tell even her long time friend the whole
truth just yet; otherwise he might take it wrong and not be able to cover it up
when the time came.

"Elaina, honey, you know, even as the Chief of Police I can't just go around
giving out confidential files like that..."

"Uncle Jerry," she said in soft warning.  "Now, please don't make me forget
about your outside habits and inadvertently mention them to your long time wife,
Aunt Rachel in casual conversation..."

"Alright...alright..." the older man said after a lengthy pause.  "Don't do
anything rash my dear..."

Elaina chuckled softly into the phone then dropped it back into the cradle
without another word.  It was always good to have an ace in the hole when her
uncle baulked.  Granted she never 'would' mention Jerry's rather odd obsessions
to his wife, but the threat was enough.  Jerry's passions, like her own, were
his own business, but still it helped to have that up her sleeve when she needed
something.  Like now.

Reaching for the phone again, she dialed another number and waited patiently for
it to be answered.

"Prosecutor's office..." said a female's voice.

"Sharon.  It's Elaina." She stated simply.

"Elaina!" the other woman all but screeched her ear off.  "How in the world are
you?" she asked next.

"I'm just fine.  Is he in?" she asked, again getting to the heart of the matter.

"He's in a meeting at the moment.  Anything I can do for you?" she asked
helpfully.

"Yes." She said by way of soft command.  "Interrupt him."

She heard the woman softly gulp then the call was put through to the
Prosecutor's Office.  It was answered on the first ring by a gruff, male voice. 
"I told you Sharon, our meeting was not to be disturbed."

"Well, I'd hate to think I was a disturbance." She replied in her best Mistress
tone.

Again she heard the soft gulp on the other end of the line before his voice came
again, this time much more subdued and yielding than it had been at first.  "I'm
sorry." He said slowly.  "Forgive my gruffness, it's just that I'm in a campaign
meeting at the moment..." he tried to explain lamely.

"And I am supposed to care?" she returned.

"No...Mi..." he started to say the word, then pulled up short to say, "Ma'am,"
at the last moment.

"It's good to know you haven't forgotten your place Richard." She said slowly. 
"Now, I need a favor.  I want your files, both personal and public on the Gage
Weston case." She said without explanation.

He stumbled again, faltering like her uncle until she added,  "I'd hate to think
what would happen to that campaign of yours if certain things were to become
public knowledge Richard..."

He gulped and she knew he was nodding while trying to maintain his cool in front
of his staff.  Finally he said a soft, "Yes Ma'am.  I'll have them couriered
over this afternoon."

"Very good Richard." She said in soft praise then dropped the phone back into
its cradle. 

Like her uncle, she never would have even thought to make Richard's private life
a matter of public knowledge, it just wasn't in her makeup, but the threat alone
was enough to remind him of his place.  Of the many nights, before Deacon had
wandered into her life that he'd tasted the tail of her whip against his bare
skin.  She chuckled as she propped her elbows on the arms of her chair and
poised her chin on her steepled fingers.


The rest of the day passed without event.  Around two there was a knock on the
door, which she answered personally.  Taking the file box from the young man's
hands, she tipped him generously and shooed him off.

"Ma'am?" he quieried softly, holding out the clipboard towards her.  "You need
to sign for those."

"No I don't." she returned nodding toward the $100 bill in his hands.  "Because
you were never here.  Return tomorrow at the same time and there's another $100
in it for you." She added before kicking the door shut with a foot.

"Yes Ma'am." He returned happily his voice now muffled by the closed door.

She smiled as she moved off to her office again and began to spread the files
out on her desk.  Deacon appeared in the doorway a moment after she'd gotten
everything out of the box and cocked his head to the side in silent inquiry. 
"Gage's files." She said to his unspoken question.  "How's he doing?"

Deacon shuffled over and knelt down beside her chair so she could release his
gag.  With her eyes still on the files, she reached over and unbuckled the
strap, then held out a hand for him to place it in. 

"He's learning Mistress." He said once the ball was free of his jaw.  "Slowly
but surely." He added leaning forward to softly nuzzle her upturned hand. 

She dropped the ball into her own lap and unconsciously reached out to softly
stroke his long hair.  "And how are you doing?"

"I'm ok Mistress." He returned honestly, knowing that she'd given her permission
to freely speak his thoughts.  "A little surprised, especially considering the
circumstances, but you prepared me well for just such a possibility and I'm
alright with having another around." He said with sincerity.  "I know that you
love me." He said, nuzzling her hand again with his face.

She turned to him then, swinging the chair around until he was kneeling between
her legs.  Pulling him down to rest upon her thighs she stroked his head
affectionately and smiled as she spoke.  "Of course I love you Deacon.  I have
since the first night I saw you at that party and you know that.  But Gage needs
me now.  Just like you did, like you still do, and both of you can and will have
equal parts of that love."

He nuzzled against her thighs, moaning softly as she touched his head and spoke
her loving words, knowing there was nothing more he needed to add.  After a
moment she took his cheeks in both her hands and lifted him back up again. 
Staring into his eyes, she let her own emotions be seen as she spoke her next
words of assurance.  "I promise I won't play favorites between you two." She
said with a soft, affectionate smile as she rubbed the pads of her thumbs over
his lips.

She leaned in and kissed him then, deeply and lovingly, plunging her tongue into
his mouth commandingly, reassuring him with action as well as word.  As usual,
Deacon felt his cock expand into rock-hard readiness as she claimed him body and
soul with nothing more than a simple kiss.  When she pulled away finally he was
breathless and she panted softly, letting him know as she always did that she
was just as moved by his kiss's as he was hers. 

He groaned in soft frustration as she pushed the gag back into his mouth and
buckled it tight.  Looking down at the bulging erection in the tight leather
pants she hadn't yet removed, he squirmed his hips and tried to rub his hands
over himself in unconscious response.  She caught the action and tisked her
tongue against her teeth, reaching into her drawer and withdrawing a single,
silver lock. 

"I think I've been too lenient with you lately Deacon.  You're beginning to
forget things." She added as she pulled his hands behind him and locked them up
tight.  "First Gage and now this.  Maybe I should pull out The Belt again..."

He shook his head vehemently scooting forward on his bent knees and shoving his
head into her lap with a soft, mew of sound.  "MMMPPPHHHTTTT..." he whimpered
trying to beg her forgiveness.

She chuckled that all too knowing chuckle and he realized deep down that he was
in for another very long stint of chastity.  He tried one more time, whimpering
softly against her thighs, trying to nuzzle between her legs to please her, to
service her, but she pushed him back onto his haunches with a smile.  "Maybe
later I'll allow you to try and beg forgiveness.  But for now there's work to be
done." She said with a pat of his cheek before turning back to the files.

He smiled as best he could around the gag and rolled to his feet effortlessly,
hobbling out of the room.  There was at least a tiny ray of hope that his cock
and balls wouldn't be locked away for a long time.  He remembered well the last
time he'd worn The Belt and gave a shuddering sigh at the thought of another
month of being unable to touch himself, much less gain any type of erection.

Chapter Seven

The next few days passed in pretty much the same for the small family.  Each
day, Deacon and Gage would follow a simple routine.  Wake, eat, clean the home,
eat dinner, a little playtime for Elaina and Deacon, then bed.  If he had
behaved that day, Gage would often be allowed to watch a movie or a TV show
while Elaina and Deacon were in the lower parts of the house.  He had yet to
question what they actually did while they were in the basement of her home, but
from the light marks that Deacon often reappeared with he could speculate. 

Elaina passed her time in her office, pouring over the case files again and
again, trying to find something, anything that would help to clear Gage's name. 
So far she'd crapped out, as the saying went.  So it was one night, about a week
after Gage's appearance and attempted kidnapping that she took him into her
office after dinner for a private chat.  Deacon, understanding as always, went
off to watch some TV while the two chatted.

As she took him into the office and slid gracefully into the chair, she held a
hand out to the side.  Gage, having adapted relatively well to his constant
bondage slid slowly onto his knees.  He was learning quickly and had found
himself in the last week enjoying the challenge of having to adapt to the
uselessness of his hands.  Having worked construction the majority of his life,
it was an interesting change for him, but both Elaina and Deacon consistently
praised his efforts.

Now though, she gently guided his head down and undid the lock and buckle to the
ball gag, sliding it free from his mouth.  Rubbing at a mark on his cheek with
the pad of her thumb, she smiled at him as she spoke softly.  "You're doing very
well Gage.  I'm proud of the effort you are putting forth." She praised gently. 
Brushing his hair out of his eyes, her smile widened as she spoke her next
question.  "How are you feeling about all of this?"

He shrugged his wide shoulders and the chains at his wrists gave a slight
rattle.  "It's different." He said slowly, unsure of how much he could actually
say.  He had yet to learn when she was giving him the free will to speak, but he
was working on it.

She placed a finger under his chin and lifted it to stare into his eyes.  "Tell
me." She said as she continued to stroke his hair and forehead. 

Almost unconsciously he leaned into her touch with a soft sigh.  He'd found that
over the past week he'd really come to enjoy her light, gentle strokes of his
naked body.  At first he was very aware that he was completely naked, but as the
days passed and he became more absorbed in his expected duties around her home
he'd found himself forgetting the fact more often than not.  It never occurred
to him to be concerned about Deacon's own state of nakedness because nothing had
ever been mentioned about the two of them having to do anything of a sexual
nature together.

Elaina had yet to do more than tease him sexually either.  She'd stroke his
manhood with her perfectly manicured fingers, she'd tease along his stomach and
sides with feathery light scrapes of her nails, she'd gently knead his
well-muscled shoulders, or do nothing more than give him a somewhat chaste kiss
on the cheek at bedtime.  But all of them he was enjoying immensely. 

She settled back into her office chair, crossing her jean clad legs and waited
patiently for him to form what words he needed.  "Well...honestly I've never
been in a situation like this." He began then paused as a slight frown marred
his strong features.  "I admit to having enjoyed some porn over the years,
but..." he paused again, trying to find the words and Elaina took the cue to
provide them.

"Never anything "kinky"...right?"

Gage slowly nodded, lifting his eyes to hers as he continued to speak.  "Right. 
Never anything kinky." He reiterated before going on.  "I...I find myself
thinking...sometimes...that...well...I'm," he paused, dipping his head away as
his voice dropped, "embarrassed."

Again Elaina took the cue and lifted his chin with a finger to stare into his
eyes.  "Embarrassed at what Gage?" she asked bluntly.

He gulped softly and his voice was a weak croak as he answered.  "Embarrassed
that I'm enjoying this..."

Elaina leaned in close then and placed a soft kiss on his forehead before
leaning back.  "What specifically are you enjoying Gage?" she asked as she
settled in the chair again.

Gage sighed slowly and tried to put his feelings into words.  "All of this..."
he shrugged lightly, the chains at his wrists rattling again. 
"You...Deacon...being here with the both of you...being able to
forget...about..." His chin lifted and he jerked it toward the wall.  "The
outside world..." he finished off softly.

Elaina chuckled that all to knowing chuckle and smiled widely.  "So you like not
being in control anymore I take it?"

Again Gage sighed slowly and softly before he spoke.  "To a degree, yes Ma'am. 
I like the fact that I haven't had a choice but to stay here with you and
Deacon." He said, bringing his eyes back to hers as he spoke his next statement. 
"But...but...to be honest Ma'am, I'd really like to be able to use my hands
more..." he said softly, dipping his head again as he made his statement.

In the last week, she'd changed his bondage into something more permanent. 
Something that was comfortable in so far that it didn't strain him, but
uncomfortable that it kept his hands cuffed at the small of his back all the
time.  She'd given him a collar to wear.  Made of leather it was buckled at the
front, with a large D-ring at the back.  A chain had been locked to the ring and
run to leather cuffs locked on his wrists.  It held them tightly to the small of
his back and while he was free to use his fingers and to a degree his hands, he
had no movement beyond what he could strain to get. 

The bands of silver she'd placed on his ankles that first night hadn't been
removed but had been given a chain about four inches long, which allowed him to
move about easily enough.  Between his knees was another chain, similar to the
one at his feet, only about two inches, which kept his knees tightly clasped
together.  She'd long since removed the rope around his cock and balls, but he
was so sexually frustrated anyway, that even a gentle brush of her fingers
brought him a full-blown hard on.

When he slept at night, she'd wrap the ropes around his upper thighs and calves,
bending his legs together though not uncomfortably, lock his ankles together,
then further impede a chance at masturbation by tying a rope around the chain at
his knees and running it to his collar.  The only comfortable position he had;
was to sleep on his side, curled almost into a fetal ball, with his hands still
tightly cuffed behind him.

It didn't help that he'd been sleeping on the floor at the foot of their bed and
could hear them quite well as they had all manner of sex.  He could hear
Deacon's frustrated moans, could hear her soft sighs of pleasure, which often
became moans of her own as Deacon pleased her.  He could hear their bodies
working together, playing off one another, and more often than not in the last
seven nights he'd fallen asleep with a raging hard on of his own, but no way to
ease it.

As if she read his mind, her next statement stopped him cold.  "I think you want
to be able to use your hands so you can masturbate." She said bluntly, though
she stroked his bent head with soft fingers.

His head jerked upwards, his breath coming faster for just a moment before he
managed to get himself under control again.  "Yes..." he paused, having to gulp
again.  "Please...please Ma'am..." he begged softly.  "I'm...I'm...I...I need
it..." he added, shifting his hips slightly as his body conquered with his words
and the beginnings of an erection jerked his manhood off his thighs.  He jerked
hard at the chain holding his hands behind him and moaned out a soft whimper as
his eyes pleaded up at her.

She reached out and stroked her nails down his cheek.  Smiling into his eyes
with a soft chuckle she spoke slowly, making sure he understood her next words. 
"In time Gage I will grant your wish.  But for now there is still much that
needs doing where you are concerned.  Until that is settled, you will stay as
you are.  Do I make myself understood?"

The reality was slow to sink into Gage's mind, but when it did he dropped his
chin to his chest with a dejected sigh.  "Yes Ma'am," was the only response he
could give, knowing he had no other choice.

"Good." She said in a pleased tone.  "I'm glad we were able to come to an
understanding." She added, softly stroking the side of his head again.

Gage leaned into the touch with a soft, if a bit sad, smile on his lips and
waited for her to say more.  When she did, the question shocked him to his very
core. 

"Tell me something Gage." She said softly, smiling gently to ease the brutality
of her next statement when he looked up at her again.  "What happened that
night."  It wasn't a question, but a simple statement of command and he knew he
didn't have a choice other than to answer it as best he could.

"I...I was driving home..." he began slowly, his brow furrowing slightly as he
tried to dredge up the memories that seemed like a lifetime ago now.  "I...I
remember passing threw the neighborhood because I'd gotten lost."

"What were you doing before that?" she asked when he paused.

"The...the job we had then...it was on that side of town.  After work that
night...me and the boys had gone out to drink." He said with another soft frown. 
"We'd...we'd...I'd had to much to drink...and I...I thought to drive home. 
I...I should have taken a cab..." he muttered, slumping down with a soft sigh
and dropping his head.

She lifted it and smiled into his eyes in soft understanding.  "Yes, you should
have.  But that's neither here nor there.  Don't beat yourself up for the past
Gage.  It's happened and been dealt with." She said caressing his cheek with the
backs of her knuckles.  "Go on."

He sighed softly, leaning into her caress, then continued in a much stronger
voice, but not before letting out a long sigh.  "As I said...I was drunk and I'd
gotten lost.

"I...I remember thinking as I turned down the street that I liked the name. 
Redwood. I've...I've always liked working with wood and...and it reminded me
that I...that I had always meant to start my own business someday."  He looked
up at her sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders.  "The rambling mind of a drunk
I know...but anyway," he paused again then went on.

"I...I was weaving...bad and I...I slammed into something.  A...A parked car I
think, but I didn't stop long enough to find out.  I...I just took off.  Getting
out of there as fast as I could."

"Which is when Mrs. Jensen claims she saw you, correct?"

He looked up at her with tortured eyes.  "I guess so.  Like I said...I was drunk
that night, which is why I didn't stop...But that's what she said at the trial. 
That she saw me tearing down the street and looked at the clock.  She only
remembered the time because one of the local stations was just ending its
broadcast day and the National Anthem is what woke her up.  She...she said she
heard my tires squeal and looked out the window to see me go flying by..."

He paused to gulp softly.  "The...the next morning, when...when his wife..." he
had to stop, gulping away the tears pooling in his eyes before he could speak
past the lump in his throat.  "When...when Sam's wife found him and called the
police, Mrs. Jensen told them what she'd seen." He was finally able to whisper.

Sam Rodriquez had been the name of the poor man that had been so brutally
murdered that night.  His body had been found in his apartment.  His wife,
unfortunately for Gage, had been so distraught that she hadn't thought about any
evidence that might have been left.  Instead she'd rushed in, picked up her
husband and held him, contaminating anything that might have helped to clear
Gage of the awful crime.

Elaina sat back in the chair again, thinking over Gage's words.  "How bad was
the damage to your car Gage?" she asked bluntly.

Gage sighed, using a shoulder to wipe away his tears before speaking.  "It
wasn't bad enough that I couldn't fix it myself." He said softly.  "I...I didn't
even file it against my insurance.  It...it only cost me about $400 to
do...so..."  He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, drawn out sigh.  "I
busted up the front grill of my truck, broke out a headlight and bent the
fender.  I...I did most of it myself, but had to order the fender and the a new
grill piece from the dealership, which is why it cost me so much."

"And what did you tell the dealership when you ordered the parts?"

He sighed again, dipping his head in shame.  "I...I lied and told them that a
dump truck had backed into me on the site." He said softly.  "I...I didn't even
know about Sam back then...I...I..." but he stopped, unable to say anything else
for the tears were choking off his words.

Elaina sat up and pulled him against her chest then, her hands softly roaming up
and down the length of his strong back as he cried for the second time.  "Shhhhh
now Gage." She whispered softly.  "It's alright.  Don't worry; we'll get it
sorted out..." she added in reassurance.

When he finally quieted, she continued to hold him as she asked her next
questions.  "Did you tell your lawyer any of this?"

Again he sighed, but made no move to pull out of her arms.  "I tried." He began
softly.  "But...but he was convinced that...that I did it...so he didn't
listen."

"Why didn't any of the boys you were drinking with that night come forward?" she
asked next, though she thought she already knew the answer.

"I...I don't know.  I...I guess because they hated me." He said slowly,
shrugging his shoulders as much as he was allowed.  "Or maybe because they were
afraid to get involved..." he added. 

She leaned back then, lifting his chin to look into his eyes.  "But they could
clear your name Gage.  Don't they want to help you?"

Again Gage shrugged slowly, his face crestfallen and dejected as he whispered
out, "I guess not," on a soft breath of air.

Their lips were just inches apart and Gage took the initiative to lean up
slightly and gently, questioningly press his against hers with a soft moan. 
Elaina, as was her way, quickly took command of the kiss, plunging her tongue
with commanding force between his slightly opened lips and at long last claiming
him as her own.  As she'd done with Deacon in this very spot the week before,
she roved her tongue through every part of his mouth, over his teeth, behind his
teeth, melding and melting with his own until he could scarcely breath.

When she pulled back, tucking his head beneath her chin, Gage gave another hard
jerk at his chained wrists, wanting, no needing to wrap his strong arms around
her.  "Please..." he begged in a jerking, choked whisper as he yanked on his
chained wrists a second time.  "Please...let me touch you...hold you..." he
pleaded, pulling back to look up at her.

She silenced him with a second, almost chaste kiss on his lips and smiled
softly.  "Later Gage." She said, reaching to the desk again to pick up the ball
gag and place it back between his lips.  "Right now I need to think about what
you've told me and figure out how it's going to help clear your name." She
stated by way of soft command.

Gage didn't beg this time, didn't whimper to have the gag left out.  Instead he
merely opened his mouth acceptingly and bent his head forward so she could strap
it up without fuss.  He'd found, as with everything else that he'd endured in
the last week, that he quite liked the reassuring presence of the ball in his
mouth.  With it in he didn't have to worry about blurting out the wrong thing at
the wrong time.  Nor did he have to worry about being tempted to beg her to ease
the relief in his groin, or Deacon for that matter, as he'd been tempted to do a
time or two in the last few days.

As he leaned forward so she could buckle and lock the gag on, he noted with a
soft groan of frustration that her kiss had been more than enough to bring him a
raging erection again.  But she turned away from him before he could indicate
it, though he was quite sure she knew.  Rising haltingly to his feet, using the
move Deacon had shown him of rolling back on the balls and using his strong legs
to rise, he shuffled out of her office and went in search of Deacon.


He found the man seated on the couch watching TV.  Like Gage he was gagged,
though with a different type this time.  He'd heard Elaina refer to it as a
penis gag and having seen it while they ate dinner earlier, Gage was just glad
he didn't have to wear it himself.  It was at least eight inches long and two or
three inches thick.  From the look on Deacon's face currently it was quite
filling.  This particular model, like some of the ball gag's they wore, was
complete with a head harness that covered Deacon's entire head with many straps,
buckles and locks. 

Deacon shook his head vehemently, the many locks holding the harness on,
rattling with repeated soft clinks.  Like Gage, Deacon's hands were tightly
cuffed behind him, only Deacon's were encased in what Gage had heard Elaina
refer to as an arm binder.  Like the penis gag it looked decidedly uncomfortable
to Gage, as it covered Deacon's strong arms almost all the way to his wide
shoulders, with two straps that crossed over his chest to lock to the top in
back, well out of his reach even if he'd been able to use his hands.

He once again wore the hard leather biker shorts that were sewn together in the
legs, ensuring that he couldn't part his legs at all.  His ankles had been
locked together as well with only two, strong links between them, ensuring that
most of the day poor Deacon's movements were limited to hops. 

As Deacon had appeared that way that morning at breakfast he could only assume
he was used to it and had adapted over time.  He'd been meaning to ask Deacon
all day about the reason for the stringent bondage, but he hadn't had the
chance.  Because of the limited amount of movement, Gage had had to do most of
the chores around the house that day so there hadn't been time before now.

Over the last week the two men had made a fast friendship, though from Gage's
point of view it was more because of the circumstances than anything else. 
Neither of them had been un-gagged long enough in the other's presence to do
much actual talking, so they'd come up with a series of gestures to communicate
when the need arose.

But now was different.  So Gage did the next best thing.  Rising off the couch
again, he hobbled over to the small desk in the room and shuffled up to a
drawer.  He knew that there was paper and a pen there and he used his cuffed
hands to draw out a couple of pieces and hobble back to the couch.

Setting it down on the coffee table, he used the pen and scrawled out one word
on the top piece.  "Why?" it said.  Turning back, he used his chin to slide it
across the table until Deacon could see it easily enough.

Deacon groaned softly and pushed himself up on the couch, wiggling his toes and
using the big one to point at the pen on the table.  Gage understood the signal
and place the instrument between his wiggling toes and was then further amazed
at Deacon's creativity and adaptability when he managed to write out a single
word just below his own.

"Punished"

Gage took the pen back and wrote another word on the paper.  "For?"

Deacon wiggled his toes again.  "Touching Self"

Gage's eyes grew wide as he looked at his new friend then scrawled out another
word.  "Where?"

"Shower." Was the mangled word Gage could just make out a moment later.

"How long?" Gage wrote next.

"1 week"

Gage turned to his friend and cocked his head, his eyes wide as if to say, ~You
have to wear that for a whole week?~

Deacon groaned softly and nodded.  It was all he could do.

Chapter Eight

The rest of the week passed quietly for the two men.  Gage happily picked up the
slack around the house because of Deacon's extra bondage.  He'd never been much
of a cook, but with Deacon's silent help, he managed to learn a few things as
the time went by.  Deacon used his shoulders, chin and eyes to point out what
Gage could and couldn't use when cooking and soon the men found themselves
growing even closer.

Elaina used her time wisely, digging deeper and deeper into Gage's alibi as the
days passed.  She'd spent the evening after they had spoken in her office
writing out a plan that would hopefully overturn the conviction.  It would take
quite a bit, but she had a large amount of hope in her heart that it would work.

The first step, however, was to move the two men from the city to her vast home
in the country.  This was easy to accomplish, even with Deacon's punishment
bondage, and it was with a pleased smile the next Thursday that Elaina announced
at dinner that they'd be moving over the weekend.

The three of them were seated around the dinner table, well Elaina was seated;
Deacon and Gage were kneeling to either side of her being fed off her plate when
she made the announcement.  "I've decided that we shall spend the rest of the
summer in the country." She stated simply and Deacon's eyes and smile let Gage
know this was indeed a good thing as the two locked gazes across her lap.

"Really Mistress?" Deacon was the first to speak.

Elaina turned to him and stroked his cheek affectionately.  "Really Deacon." She
said lovingly.  "I've spoken with Joselyn and anything that might be upcoming
she can handle for the next couple of months.  The contracts are all in place
and there's no new business worries until sometime in October." She added
stroking her long fingers threw his hair.

Deacon leaned into the touch and smiled across her lap toward Gage.  "The
Mistress' estate is beautiful." He said softly, his eyes going distant with
pleasant memories.  "You'll like it there."

Gage only smiled as best he could.  He felt unsure about leaving the city, and
his parents behind, but at the same time a sense of excitement at something new
and different.

"Gage, you will help Deacon prepare tomorrow and we'll leave bright and early on
Saturday." She said, turning toward him in the chair and reaching out to touch
the strong plane of his own cheek.

Gage nodded his head against her hand and smiled up into her eyes.  A thought
occurred to him then and his smile widened even more.  ~At least out in public
she'd have to let him free of the chains...~ his mind said.  ~And then he might
have a chance to touch himself and ease up but some of the sexual pressure he'd
been feeling...~


Friday was spent packing up what few belongings they'd need to take with them to
the country.  Gage didn't know it, and didn't have a chance to ask, but the
estate to which they were traveling already had everything they would need.  The
few things they did pack up were some of Elaina's favorite outfits, a few
dresses, and a few of Deacon's favorite "play toys". 

Once they finished, they spent the rest of the day preparing the house for an
extended absence.  They cleaned out the fridge, locked up the windows and doors,
made sure the curtains were tightly closed, and stripped all the linens to be
put away. 

They did such a good job that Elaina decided a reward was in order.  She ordered
Chinese for herself and pizza for both Deacon and Gage.  She even granted them
the chance to eat on their own and released their hands.  She pulled out one of
her favorite movies, a comedy by the name of "Beverly Hills Cop", and the three
of them spent a relaxing evening on the couch.

Deacon curled up, his head in her lap to watch the film, while Gage sat next to
the both of them.  She had re-cuffed their hands, this time in front of each
man, and allowed them some limited freedom for the first time in weeks.  For
just a brief moment Gage thought to touch himself, then dismissed the thought. 
With Elaina sitting right next to him he knew there was no way she wouldn't
catch him and he feared she'd put him in the same position as she had Deacon in
the week before.

She casually stroked Deacon's head in her lap, then about fifteen minutes into
the film, reached over and intertwined her fingers with Gage's.  Giving him a
happy, pleased smile, she remained that way through the entire movie.  Despite
the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, the presence of Deacon, and the fact that he
was a convicted felon on the run from the cops, for the first time in awhile
Gage Weston actually felt like a normal man.


Saturday morning dawned bright and early for the two men.  After the pleasant
evening, she'd allowed them both to remain somewhat free of bondage and Gage had
found himself happy with that.  She'd chained his hands to his waist before
putting him down on the floor, tied his legs as she usually did, and gagged him
with a much smaller ball than usual.  He smiled gratefully at her as she moved
out of his sight, and then groaned softly as he heard them begin to make love.

During Deacon's week of punishment, they hadn't done much more than sleep, and
tonight he was trying to make up to her for his indiscriminate touching.  The
voyeur in Gage wanted to sit up and watch, but he wasn't quite that comfortable
with the both of them yet to do so.  So he settled for using his imagination.

Which only served to bring him yet another raging erection.  Struggling over
onto his back, he groped at himself in the darkness, but the lock on his cuffs
made sure he couldn't quite reach it.  The tips of his fingers brushed his cock
and for a moment it was almost enough, but the sensation faded quickly, leaving
Gage as sexually frustrated as he'd ever been in his life.  He was so close and
still helpless.

He moaned softly in the darkness, rolling onto his stomach in an effort to ease
himself against the floor.  But with his legs tied tightly and his hands at his
waist, he couldn't squirm enough or get enough leverage to grind himself against
the plush carpet of her bedroom.

Finally, in the wee hours, he gave up and flopped dejectedly onto his side.  He
could only hope she'd do something, anything, soon to help him over the edge,
otherwise he was sure he'd go absolutely crazy.

She woke both men as the sun was lightening the eastern sky and began to prepare
them for travel without a word.  The bags had already been packed in her car and
it was simply a matter of binding her two slaves for travel and they'd hit the
road. 

Deacon was first.  He still had one more day of punishment to endure, despite
her allowing him some freedom the evening before, so she strapped the large
penis gag in his mouth, put on the arm binder and added the shorts without
saying a word. 

Deacon didn't complain, having learned long ago that such things only added to
his punishments.  He merely accepted her ministrations, grateful that he'd at
least been allowed to please her the night before.  He himself hadn't gained
release, but he was quite used to that.  So he knelt at her feet, willingly
accepted the overly large penis in his mouth and moving his arms behind him
without question.

She added a final piece, a blindfold, strapping it to the inside of the head
harness before moving to Gage.  Again Deacon didn't complain, didn't try to move
away, merely sank into the darkness of the blindfold happily.  It was so nice
not to have to worry over anything, even something as simple as being able to
see, that he was happy to let her control every bit of his surroundings.

Gage on the other hand baulked when he saw her drop the blindfold over his eyes. 
He struggled and strained against the cuffs she had yet to remove and grunted
incoherent words from behind the gag.  His eyes pleaded with her as she came
toward him and he shook his head vehemently as she un-cuffed him and returned
his hands to the small of his back. 

One thing he'd never told anyone was his fear of not being able to see.  She
untied his legs and helped him to rise, then began working a pair of shorts like
Deacon's over his legs.  He didn't fight her, but continued to grunt behind the
gag, needing to tell her, wanting to beg her not to blindfold him. 

He didn't think he could handle that.  He knew he couldn't handle it and silent
tears began to course down his face as she added a second chain to the bottom of
his cuffs and threaded it between his legs.  Locking it to his waist, she pushed
him back onto his knees, seemingly oblivious to his mewling cries from behind
the ball. 

When he was on the floor again, she reached around and removed the gag, another
in hand.  As soon as it popped free she noticed his tears and cocked her head at
him quizzically.  "Gage?" she asked, surprised to see the man crying for
seemingly no reason.  "What's the matter?" she asked next, softly stroking away
his tears.

"Please..." he begged on a hiccup of sound.  "Please..." he managed a second
time threw his tears.  "Please...don't...don't blindfold me...I...I'm afraid..."
he whispered chokingly.

"Shhhhh..." she whispered softly in return, kissing his lips then the tracks of
his tears.  "Shhhhh..." she added a second time before slipping a smaller
version of Deacon's penis gag into his mouth and beginning to do up the wealth
of buckles and locks to hold it in place over his head. 

When it was secure, she discarded the dark blindfold she was going to use and
went to one of her dressers instead.  Pulling out a long scarf of silk she came
back to Gage and began to wind it beneath the straps of the harness.  When she
was finished a few minutes later, he couldn't see per se, but he could still see
light coming in through the layers of silk over his eyes. 

Almost immediately Gage relaxed as he realized her intent and was happy that
she'd taken his soft confession into consideration.  He couldn't make out
anything other than extremely vague shapes from behind the silk, and the light,
but it wasn't darkness and for that he was grateful to her.  He made a mental
note to thank her when he could speak again, then waited patiently for whatever
would come next.

She took Deacon to the car first, for she knew it would take more time with
Gage.  Deacon was quite used to moving in the darkness of the blindfold and had
an extreme trust in her to guide him.  Which she did by clipping a leash to the
chinstrap of his harness and giving it a gentle tug.  He rose gracefully to his
feet and followed her guiding tugs on the chain down the stairs and out to the
car. 

She put him in the back seat for the trip this time.  She knew Gage was sure to
be anxious and nervous out in public and she wanted to be able to touch him in
reassurance as they drove.  What neither man could see, but Deacon knew, was
that her car, a Lexus, had been specifically designed for just such occasions. 
The windows were tinted as dark as the law allowed, including the windshield and
special straps had been installed in all the seats but the drivers.

She used those same straps now to buckle Deacon tightly in his seat, then gave
him a soft kiss on the nose before going back into the house for Gage.  As she'd
thought it took a bit longer to get him downstairs, but he followed without
baulking and she was soon easing him into the front seat.  Helping him to swing
his legs in, she gave him a moment to find a comfortable position for his hands,
then began to strap him down.

The first was a simple padlock between his ankles that locked to an eyebolt in
the floorboard, keeping his feet flat.  Next came a wide strap that she placed
around his calves and padlocked to another eyebolt in the front of his seat. 
Another strap was buckled tightly over his upper thighs, another over his waist
pulling him back against the seat and a final one over his wide chest. 

When she was finished the only thing he could move was his head, which he turned
toward her when she spoke softly next to his ear.  "Relax Gage.  It's only a
four hour drive." She said, kissing the tip of his nose softly.

"MMMMMPPPHHHTTTT..." he cried out in a mewling whimper, trying to push out his
chest to see how much movement he would have.  He was unsurprised to find he had
none.

He felt the air press against him as his door was shut, then a moment or so
later felt the car shift was Elaina slid into the driver's side.  As the car
started and began to back out of the garage he felt a moment of fear grip his
heart at being out in public.  He was bound, gagged and blindfolded, helpless to
do anything other than sit there while she drove the car to wherever they would
go.  Not to mention in full sight of the public in his blindfold and head
harness.  His heart pounded and he expected the car to be pulled over at any
minute by the police.

Shifting nervously against the seat, he turned his head toward Elaina's smell
coming from beside him and gave a mewling whimper of pleading.  She just
chuckled that all too knowing chuckle and gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze of
her fingers.

"Don't worry Gage." She said as if reading his thoughts.  "The windows are
deeply tinted.  No one can see inside."

He relaxed completely then, letting the worries of the previous moments slip
away.  She didn't say anything else for a long time.  He felt the car stop and
start and knew they were going through many lights before it finally settled
into an even speed and he figured out they were on the highway.

Once the car had evened out, he felt her reach to his waist and begin to fiddle
with the locked belt and chain.  Within moments her experienced fingers had both
undone and his semi-erect cock was popping free of the hard leather shorts.  He
groaned deeply as her gentle, loving fingers descended on him and began to
stroke his quickly growing erection.  Shifting against the straps as much as he
could he tried to grind his hips into her hand, but she'd designed them well and
he couldn't move more than a few centimeters.

His fingers, trapped behind his back, crawled at the seat behind him, aching
with a need he couldn't put a name too as her gentle fingers continued to tease
his raging hard-on.  His breathing became hard and ragged, each breath an effort
to draw into his lungs as his mind was consumed by a pounding need to be free
and finish what she was doing.

Just as suddenly as she'd started, she stopped.  Completely and he pushed out a
deep groan from behind the penis gag in his mouth.  Gnawing on it, he turned his
head and strained his face in her general direction, eventually managing to
touch the tip of his chin to her shoulder with a soft whimper of need. 

If he'd been able to see he would have seen Deacon's all too knowing smile as he
sat in the backseat, bound as helplessly as Gage.  Deacon knew that sound, all
too well, for he'd made it many times himself on this very trip to the country. 
Eventually, after what seemed an eternity to both men, Deacon heard Gage begin
to whimper again and knew she was touching him once more.

Gage sat there, shaking almost violently in his need for release as the miles
ticked by and she continued to tease him to the brink.  Just when he thought she
was going to finally finish it, her hand would pull away, leaving him just as
frustrated as he'd been in the last weeks.  Each time his struggles to be free
and finish it on his own became increasingly more violent, until finally he was
bodily throwing his weight against the straps that held him in his efforts.  His
mind was consumed with nothing but his need to orgasm, the frustration
threatening to send him over the brink into insanity at any moment. 

He'd never been in this situation before.  Ever in his life, and now being bound
as he was, it was only intensifying his need.  As the miles clicked by and she
continued to tease him slowly, maddeningly to the edge only to let him cool, he
thought for sure he'd go insane if she didn't finish it and grant him release. 
Just when he thought he'd go mad, his mind cracking over the brink between
sanity and insanity, her softly whispered words reached his ears and completely
stilled him.

"This is your first lesson Gage." She said as the car began to slow somewhat. 
He felt her ease the car into the far lane to get off the highway before she
continued.  "Your first lesson in learning that I control everything about you. 
Everything you do, everything that you are and everything you ever will be from
this day forward." She said and he felt the car come to a stop.  It turned right
and he groaned as her hand dropped to his dangerously engorged penis again. 

It stroked slowly up the sides, her nails scraping along his skin and he thought
for sure he was going to be able to crest over that elusive edge, then she
stopped again.  Withdrawing her fingers she whispered a second soft statement. 
"When you feel the time is right to properly address me, I may see fit to grant
what you need."

He whimpered at that, screaming out behind his gag, though the sound barely
reached his own ears.  Continuing to strain and struggle against the straps, he
missed Deacon's own soft chuckle from the back seat at her statement.  The man
remembered all too well his own introduction into her control and he sighed now,
knowing Gage was in for a long, long stint of sexual frustration and forced
chastity much as his own had been.

Gage continued to shake in his need, his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat
as the car rolled threw a long series of twists and turns.  He had no idea where
they were, nor did he care, he only knew the all-consuming need to ejaculate. 
Eventually the car rolled onto some gravel, and after what seemed an eternity
glided to a smooth stop.  He grunted and whimpered as Elaina got out and the
door shut.  Chewing at the small, five-inch long penis that held his tongue
flat, he waited impatiently as he heard the back door open and Deacon being
released.

When the back door shut again and he sensed he was alone, he began to rock
almost violently against the straps that held him tight like a lover.  Shifting
and grinding himself against anything in order to crest himself over that all
too elusive edge and into bliss.  But he failed, miserably and soon realized the
folly of his efforts.  Alone and helpless he began to cry again, his tears
soaking the silk material over his eyes in his frustration.

Eventually the door opened and he felt her fingers doing up the hard leather of
the shorts, encasing his painfully engorged penis once more.  He whimpered,
straining his head forward and crying out behind the gag.  If she'd removed it
right then he'd have called her anything she wanted in order to gain his own
release.  Goddess, Mistress, Evil One, even Satan if it she would have granted
him an orgasm. 

But she didn't.  She merely undid the straps, releasing him from the seat, then
helped him to his feet.  He felt her clip the lead to his chin again then her
gentle tugs as she led him inside.  His calloused feet had no trouble on the
gravel of the drive and eventually he felt cool grass as he hobbled along. 

"There's three steps here Gage." She said softly and he felt along with his
toes, finding them and stepping upward easily. 

They passed threw the wide doorway of her home and the light coming through his
blindfold turned to shadows.  She led him threw a hallway and he felt the cool
hardwood floors beneath his feet as they moved along.  She turned him into a
room and gently guided him onto his knees, beginning to slowly unwrap the layers
of silk over his eyes. 

As the last of the material was lifted away and he got his first look at her
"country" home, he couldn't have helped the gasp that crossed his lips even if
he wanted too.  The room in which he knelt was the most beautiful that he'd ever
seen in his life.  Highly polished hardwood floors were the first thing to greet
his gaze, followed by many pieces of finely crafted furniture.  Chairs, two
sofas, coffee tables, end tables and bookcases populated the study and he let
out a soft sigh threw his nose as his fingers clenched behind his back in his
need to touch everything he saw.

One of his passions had always been fine woodworking and the furniture in the
room was just that.  Even his untrained eye knew it was some of the finest in
the world.  For just a moment his rock hard erection was forgotten as he took in
the opulence of the room and he turned toward Elaina with a soft, mewling
whimper of need. 

She squatted before him and whispered softly,  "I take it you like my home?"

Gage nodded and leaned forward to softly rub his cheek against hers, then sat
back on his haunches again, his eyes pleading with an unspoken need. 

She reached out and gently touched his cheek then rose to tend to Deacon. 
"Deacon will show you what needs to be done today." She said as she removed his
blindfold and watched him rise gracefully to his feet.  "Janella has brought us
enough food for a couple of days, but I'll go shopping later." She added as
Deacon gave a nod.  "I'll be upstairs if you two need anything." She called out
as Gage rose to his feet and hobbled after Deacon a moment later.


The two men spent the rest of the day airing out the house.  To Gage's surprise
it was massive.  Twelve bedrooms, four bathrooms, two studies, a ballroom that
was easily half the size of a football field, an attic, four additional bedrooms
on the fourth floor that had served as servant's quarters in the past, and a
basement that seemed to go on forever.  There were also two elevators.  One
human sized and the other, smaller version in the kitchen so that food, linens
and whatever else might be needed on the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th floors could be
transported without much effort on their part.

Deacon took him on the tour, which took them most of the afternoon, and by the
time they ended up in the basement Gage was exhausted just thinking about all
the additional work they'd had to do to keep the place in tiptop shape.  His
exhaustion left him though as he saw all the strange pieces of wooden furniture
that had been placed in one end of the room. 

As the two men stood there looking at the odd conglomeration of things, Gage's
eyes grew wide with understanding.  As he'd told Elaina, he'd never been into
anything "kinky", but he could easily tell what each piece was capable of just
from its design and the wealth of straps, cuffs, buckles and chains that hung
about each piece.  Seeing his friend gain an understanding, Deacon smiled behind
the penis in his mouth and moved to sit on one of the pieces.

It was a modified weight lifters bench and one that was a particular favorite of
his.  Turning so his chest faced the seat back, he squirmed around a bit so Gage
would get a better idea of how someone fit into it.  Looking over his shoulder,
he saw the other man nod slowly as he gained more understanding of how it worked
then he smiled behind his own gag and nodded.  Using his cuffed hands he helped
his friend off the piece again and the two men headed back upstairs.

At dinner later on that evening Gage voiced the questions that plagued him the
rest of the day after seeing the basement.  "May I ask a question please?" he
said as he knelt beside Elaina's chair.

She hadn't removed anything other than the penis gag's of both men in order to
feed them, but after giving Deacon a bite of her plate she turned and nodded to
Gage.  "You may." She stated a bite poised on her fork for him.

He leaned forward and took the bite, chewed it, then spoke a soft, "Thank you
Ma'am," before asking his question.  "Are those..." he paused, trying to find
the right word.  "Pieces in the basement, what I think they are?"

"What do you think they are Gage?" she returned his question with one of her
own.

Gage gulped before speaking softly again.  "They...they look like torture..." he
whispered out softly.

It was Deacon's turn to answer and he did so with a soft chuckle.  "They can be
Gage.  But in the right hands..." he looked up at Elaina lovingly for a moment
before his eyes came back to lock with Gage's.  "and under the right
circumstances, they are fun.  I've gained a great amount of pleasure in the
basement Gage.  And you will too." He stated knowingly, his eyes roaming back to
Elaina and staying there.

Gage dropped his head, his eyes full of fear at Deacon's statement, but he said
nothing. 

Elaina fed Deacon another bite, then turned to Gage again, lifting his chin with
a finger to look directly into his eyes.  "Don't worry love." She said, rubbing
the pad of a thumb over his chin.  "It will be awhile yet before I take you
there." She added with a soft smile before continuing with her dinner.

Gage felt his heart slam painfully into his ribs, but it wasn't out of fear any
longer, it was because of the one word she'd said.  ~Love...~ rang out in his
mind and he gave her a happy, if relieved smile, as the rest of their dinner
went by without another word.  The erection that had never quite left him during
the day, reawakened with a pounding presence in both his mind and his leather
shorts.  He gave a rattling jerk at his chained wrists and did his best to
stifle a groan of need.  It didn't work well, but Elaina made no acknowledgement
of it as she continued to eat and feed the both of them from her plate.

When she was finished she picked up their individual penis gags and strapped
them tightly back into place.  Gage almost begged her not too then thought
better of it out of the fear she'd just use a larger one instead.  He knew from
seeing Deacon's looks of discomfort during the past week, that he wouldn't be
able to handle anything larger than the one he'd already been wearing all day. 
His jaw ached from its wide opened position, but he could see it would be even
wider with the larger version.  So he said nothing and opened his mouth for the
thing to be slipped in.

"You've accepted this well Gage." Elaina said as she locked the straps tightly
about his head and neck.  "I think I'll let you keep it in for the rest of the
week." She added in soft command.

Gage gave a weak moan and a hard jerk at his chained wrists before shaking his
head vehemently from side to side. 

"Oh you like that?" she asked, knowing full well his response had been a
negative one.  "Two weeks then."

Again Gage gave a moan and a hard jerk at his wrists.

"No?  You'd prefer three?  Three it is then."

This time Gage stilled, a shudder coursing the length of his muscles as he
remembered her words from earlier.  He stilled his responses and merely nodded
his head slowly, finally realizing that was what she wanted. 

"Good." She said softly reaching out to rub his bent head.  "You will wear that
gag for the next three weeks."  She turned slightly to look at Deacon.  "It is
only removed to eat." She stated then rose and strode calmly out of the dining
room heading for other parts of the house. 

Chapter Nine

The next week passed quietly for both men.  Deacon was eventually released from
the arm binder and the penis gag, but still remained chained and gagged with his
ever-present ball.  Gage's hands remained tightly cuffed behind him, but he'd
already learned how to do most things required of him in such a position.  With
Deacon's freedom even his work load was once again eased.

Elaina seemed to have secluded herself in her office on the second floor though
neither man had a chance to ask as to why.  She wasn't forthcoming with the
details of her self-imposed seclusion either until late the following Thursday
evening.  She emerged from her office, breezing through the house with a happy
smile and her usual calm, confidence. 

Calling both men to her in the downstairs study, they knelt beside the chair she
occupied and waited expectantly for her to announce whatever it was that had her
grinning so broadly.  She removed both their gags and spoke without preamble. 
"I've decided to have a party." She said calmly.

"A party?" Deacon asked with a light of excitement glowing from behind his eyes.

She reached out and softly caressed his cheek in knowing implication before
answering.  "Yes Deacon, a party." She reiterated before turning to Gage and
speaking with another soft caress.  "One that will be thrown in Gage's honor."

Gage gave her a confused look before speaking softly.  "But...aren't I...aren't
I still wanted?"

Elaina nodded slowly, her smile never faltering as she answered.  "Yes you are
Gage.  But don't worry, you won't be taking part, but carefully locked away
above stairs."

He frowned at her again, still not understanding.  She didn't bother to explain
further either, merely replaced both their gags and shooed them off with
instructions to have her home spotless in the next 24 hours.


The next evening, as the sun was just beginning to dip beneath the western
horizon, the guests began to arrive.  Senators, Congressmen, and well known
Businessmen alike were in attendance.  All manner of people had clamored over
the last week for one of the exclusive invitations to her affair and it was with
grand pleasure that Deacon personally greeted each of the 300 or so people that
began to arrive.

He'd been fully released from his bondage for the affair, save for the permanent
wrist and ankle cuffs of silver.  Of course both were well hidden under his
tailor fit suit and he had no worries about standing by the door and ushering in
each couple that arrived with hearty handshakes and a happy smile for the
ladies.

Gage on the other hand had only had his own bondage modified.  Safely secured in
one of the bedrooms, Elaina had graced him with limited freedom this night.  His
hands had been brought in front of him and cuffed by a short chain to his
collar.  His ever-present penis gag was still in place as well as the ankle
cuffs and short hobble, but at least he would be allowed to use his hands a bit
better. 

He still wore the hard leather shorts, but his thoughts turned to more pleasant
subjects as Elaina presented him with his own entertainment for the evening. 
She'd taken the time, over the last few days, to collect all the past issues of
the woodworking magazines he'd once subscribed too.  Before his incarceration,
he'd received just about all the ones on the market by mail, but since his time
in jail he'd missed out on almost a years worth.  Elaina had taken the time to
track them all down, including the back issues he'd missed, and he'd almost
cried when she'd presented them to him in the bedroom. 

As she tethered his ankle hobble to the foot of the bed, he'd smiled gratefully
at her through the tears in his eyes at her gift.  He wanted to thank her, but
the length of the penis gag in his mouth prevented that.

She smiled in genuine understanding, softly rubbed his cheek with her gloved
hand, and left him alone.  As the door to the room closed with a soft click he
could just make out the music from the party below, but he had no interest in
such things.  He was perfectly content to read the magazines, despite his
limited movement and gagged mouth. 


Just as the last of the guests arrived, Elaina made her grand entrance.  The
softly flowing music from the hired orchestra stilled, the last chord humming
off into nothingness. The guests took the cue and turned almost as one toward
the stairs that descended into the vast ballroom.

Like a Queen descending to her throne at court, Elaina paused at the top of the
vast, curving stairs and waited but a heartbeat for every eye to land on her. 
With a bright smile, she moved, her grace almost animal like as she took the
carpeted stairs one slow pace at a time.  Her eyes roamed over the large,
capacity crowd and paused but briefly on those of interest before moving on to
the next.

Of course she knew everyone in attendance, she'd personally invited them all,
but there were particular ones that she needed to assure herself had actually
made it to the event.  She sighed silently as she reached the middle of the wide
stairs and mentally counted off each of those she needed to put her plan into
action.  All five had made it and it was with a wide beaming smile that she
finally reached the last step and took up Deacon's arm.

On cue the orchestra started up again and those in attendance went back to their
conversations once more.  It was just a brief pause in the structure of the
party itself, but was enough to let everyone there know who exactly was in
charge.

The Lady Elaina.

Like a Queen Bee she flitted about the guests, smiling and speaking to everyone
there for the first half an hour.  Slowly, she and Deacon made their way to a
stage that had been set up at one end of the room.  With a smile and a steadying
hand from Deacon, she took the steps to the platform and walked gracefully to
its center and the waiting microphone.

Taking it off its stand, she spoke, her voice calmly ringing out over the
speakers set strategically around the vast room.  "Good evening everyone." She
said with another of those beaming smiles.  She waited but a heartbeat for
everyone to still again, then continued.  "As you are no doubt aware," she
began, taking a moment to let her gaze roam about then going on.  "I've called
this event together for a special reason."

She paced along the stage for a moment, letting the general murmur of
speculation roam over those on the floor then went on.  "Our esteemed
prosecutor," she said, lifting a gloved hand toward Richard Gannon and his wife,
"is up for re-election this year."

There was a moment of applause from the crowd and she held out a hand to still
it after briefly indulging them.  "We're coming together tonight to raise funds
for his campaign." She said, adding a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as
she went on.  "I'm going to make this a brief speech, then the waiters will
circulate to collect your contributions to Mr. Gannon's campaign fund." She
added then spent the next several moments touting off Richard's worth and
potential gains of his re-election at the end of the summer.

As she spoke she saw many of those in attendance reaching for wallet and
checkbook alike and had to hide the secret smile that almost threatened to break
threw her features.  There was so much more to the party that night, but only
the five she'd spotted earlier would be the wiser.  The rest were only there to
cover up the real reason for the event.

Clearing Gage's name...

She quickly finished up her speech, waiting but a heartbeat for the waiters to
begin circulating amongst the guests to collect their money, before descending
back into the crowd.  Deacon was waiting for her and she calmly placed her hand
in the crook of his arm before heading off to find the first of the five.

He was a well-known television executive.  Short by even her standards, both she
and Deacon towered over the poor man as they came to a gentle stop beside him. 
"Hello Al." she said pleasantly enough as she bent to receive his kiss on the
cheek.

"Elaina." Al Garrison returned before stepping back a bit and taking a sip on
his drink.  "Thank you for the invitation.  I don't often get them to such an
exclusive event." He added referring to her well-known private parties.

Elaina was old money, older than even Deacon's family.  A born and raised
blueblood of Chicago society, she'd never had to actually work for anything in
her life and never would have too.  Thus, when she threw an event such as this,
it was something to attend.  More often than not, however, her parties tended to
lean toward her more personal lifestyle involving BDSM. 

But tonight, for all those concerned she was just Lady Elaina, 5th generation
rich girl helping out a friend to raise money for his upcoming campaign.  Which
was just fine with her, even though half those in attendance she already knew
because of her private lifestyle.  That was neither here nor there just then
though and she smiled widely at Garrison as she spoke. 

"You're more than welcome.  I'm glad you could make it.  Your secretary said you
might not be back in town in time, so I was a bit concerned." She said as she
swiped up a glass of white wine from a passing waiter. 

"Yes, I was out of town until late this afternoon.  We're following the Weston
case quite closely and I was over in Grand Rapids on a lead...I suppose you'd
heard he was spotted there yesterday."  Al said, leaning forward in a
conspiratorial type whisper.

Elaina let a moment of shocked surprise pass over her features as she spoke in
return.  "Really?" she questioned.  "You don't say."

Al nodded, going on as he leaned a bit closer.  "Someone seems to have spotted
him there two nights ago, driving another stolen car.  A white Cadillac." He
said with a nod of his balding head.

"How interesting."  Elaina said with a soft whistle.  "Listen, can I ask you
something?"

"Certainly." Al nodded in return, letting her change the subject.  "Anything."

"Well, you know I don't watch much TV these days, so I was wondering if you
could do me a huge favor." Elaina said, her voice holding a gentle tone of
command.

Al cocked his head and looked at her inquisitively.  "What's that?"

"Well, Weston crashed his car in my neighborhood a couple of weeks ago and since
then it's peaked my curiosity about the whole thing.  You know I was out of the
country when the trial was going on." She said with a gentle shrug of her naked
shoulders.  She'd chosen a soft silk, off the shoulder, dress of black for this
particular party and the rise of her deeply tanned shoulders and prominent
breasts drew Al's eye as she shrugged.  She leaned in toward the older man, her
cleavage inches from his face as she went on.  "I was wondering if you wouldn't
mind sending me what the station has.  You know the tapes from the trial and any
news reports?"

Al gulped and Elaina was pleased to see a fine sheen of sweat break out on his
forehead as his eyes stayed fixated on her well-endowed chest.  "Sure..." he
finally managed to croak out a few moments later.  "Be...I'd be happy too." He
muttered as she leaned away again.

Elaina reached out and patted her soft, full-length opera gloved fingers against
his cheek and smiled down at him, her voice dripping command.  "Thank you Al. 
Enjoy the party." She added before taking up Deacon's arm again and moving off
to her next "victim" of the night.


Locked away upstairs Gage spent the first hours of the party catching up on his
reading.  He honestly had wanted to start his own business someday, working with
wood in some capacity, but that day never seemed to arrive.  There were always
bills to pay and being able to work only about half of the year, he'd often
ended up spending the winter with his parents, eecking out whatever meager
income he could with odd jobs here and there. 

He was in his mid 30's and he knew if he didn't start soon he never would.  His
intention, before his arrest had been to start that coming winter.  His parents
were happy to know he'd be moving back in with them and had been more than
willing to let him convert their basement into a workshop.  That was what he'd
been doing on the night of his arrest, working out the final details with his
folks for the coming months. 

He reached up with his hand on its short chain to wipe at a tear, staving off
the thoughts before they could bring him any more sadness.  But laying there
alone, even cuffed and gagged, his mind turned back to 'what if's...'

Tossing his magazine to the covers, he swung his tightly bound legs over the
side of the bed and rose to his feet.  Elaina had chained him to the heavy bed
but he hobbled around the room as far as it would allow him, his mind turning
over scenario after scenario. 

What if he'd taken a cab the night of the murder?  What if he hadn't gone out
drinking?  What if he had been born into a different family?  What if he'd
walked away from his job the year before instead of going to the doctor as his
company wanted?  What if he'd started his own business sooner, instead of
procrastinating?  What if...What if...What if...

With each scenario, with each decision he'd made in his life, he knew that his
life would have turned out far different than it had with only one simple
decision in another direction.  He began to get angry then, truly angry at
himself as he realized what a mockery he'd made of his life.  What a fool he'd
been all these years. 

Unconsciously he began to struggle against his bonds, as he grew angrier with
himself.  Jerking on his bound wrists, twisting his upper body in an effort to
be free and punch something...anything as his anger consumed him.  Using what
small freedom he had to claw at penis gag and its accompanying harness over his
head.  Straining at the tightly wrapped cords of rope around his knees and the
short hobble at his ankles.  Pulling at the chain that kept him tethered to the
bed and well out of the reach of anything inanimate that he could break or
punch.

He was so busy with his attempts at freedom and consumed with his anger that he
didn't hear the door open and shut.  He missed the soft hiss of air as he
continued to claw at the harness on his face and struggle with his bound wrists. 
He didn't even know she was in the room with him until she appeared in his line
of sight and took his anger clawed hands in her own and began to work a mitten
of hard leather over his clenched fingers.

With an angry growl he tried to fight her off, tried to push her away so he
could continue his own business, but bound as he was she was too strong for him
and soon had the mitten locked tightly around his cuffed wrists.  His palms
pressed tightly to one another when she was done and he found he had no play in
them at all.  His angry eyes turned to look at her as if suddenly realizing she
was there and he gave off another angry growl as he shoved a shoulder into her
pushing her away.

She stumbled away a single step and let him struggle for few brief minutes with
the new mitten.  She could tell, just by looking at the small, bloody scrapes on
his chin and cheeks what had happened.  He'd obviously gotten angry with himself
over something and was now trying to free himself and strike out at anything
close at hand.  She couldn't and wouldn't fault him for his natural reaction,
but she definitely needed a way to calm him and quickly before he really injured
himself.

Reaching to her back, she deftly undid the zipper to her dress and let it pool
at her feet with just a simple shake of her shoulders.  Underneath she wore her
usual, tight corset, garter and stockings, but nothing more.  Kicking off her
modest heels, she waited until he was near the bed, then hooked his ankle with
her foot and gave his chest a surprisingly hard shove.

Bound as he was, Gage had no choice but to flop back on the massive, comfortable
bed and Elaina took the opportunity to pounce.  Literally.  She landed on his
chest, pinning his mitten covered hands between them with ease and spoke calmly
and softly as she wrapped her arms around his wide back and locked her ankles
beneath his knees.

"Easy now Gage...calm down...it's me..." she said slowly, punctuating each word
with a soft kiss on his cheek.  "Shhhh..." she whispered, nibbling on his neck
as he continued to struggle and try to buck them both of the bed.  "Shhhh..."
she tried again after some moments of heaving on his part.

Eventually her voice wound it's way into his consciousness and he began to still
his heaving struggles to unseat her. 

"Easy now love...easy..." she said softly, continuing to kiss along the line of
his strong neck and shoulders.  "It's alright, I'm here now...shhhhh..." she
added as he lay still beneath her at last, his wide chest expanding and
contracting as he pulled great gulps of air into his lungs.  "Shhhhh..." she
said again, kissing along his ear.

He gave off a soft groan and struggled slightly to shift his hands between them. 
She leaned up slightly and looked down into his eyes, touching his forehead
softly as she spoke.  "Are you calm now?"

He nodded, shifting his hands again.  Seeming to sense what he needed, she
unclipped the short leash holding them to his collar, then ducked as he lifted
his bound hands and dropped them over her shoulders to rest at the small of her
back.  He whimpered deeply as his forearms came in contact with her and lifted
his head off the bed to bury it in the crook of her neck.

Holding the back of his head with one hand, she smiled and kissed his head as
she spoke.  "Shhhh..." she said slowly.  "It's alright.  I'm here now..." she
added yet again as her hand stroked along the back of his head.

He still shook with anger, but was calming down slowly as he used his head to
rub against her naked shoulder.  He whimpered again, shifting his hips up as
much as he could to press against the naked junction of her thighs and squeezing
her gently with his bound hands.  His ragged breathing began to return to normal
as they lay there and within moments he eased his head away from her shoulder. 
Looking up at her with begging blue eyes, he shifted his hips against her again
with a soft pleading whimper of need.

"Shhhh..." she said, kissing his gagged mouth gently.  "Shhhh..." she added a
second time as she moved a bit and eased her hand between their bodies.  With a
deft flick of her wrist she undid the buckle of the leather shorts that kept him
imprisoned and eased his manhood free. 

He whimpered in growing need as her fingers grazed him before she settled back
atop him, pinning his rock hard erection against his pelvis with her womanhood. 
He shifted, bucking slightly in an effort to push himself inside her, but he
failed bound as he was.

He whimpered softly as she ground herself against him and lifted his head to
tuck it against her shoulder.  ~PLEASE...~ his mind screamed out the words he
couldn't as he continued to buck against her.  ~OH GOD'S PLEASE...~ he tried to
beg on another whimper. 

He was so close...he could smell her heat...could feel it against his
erection...could hear her own need in her softly panting breathes.  Mingled with
the perfume she'd worn for the party, her scent quickly became a heady
aphrodisiac and he growled deeply in his chest as his erection grew between his
legs to almost painful proportions. 

She rose up on her hands and stared down into his face.  "Do you want me Gage?"
she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, jutting his chin against the gag in his mouth with a pleading whimper
for her to remove it. 

She lifted her fingers to the snaps that held the long penis in place and
paused.  Looking deeply into his glazing eyes she spoke slowly so her words
would be understood.  "Head or hands?" she asked with a soft command.

He knew she was granting him this one moment of decision, this one moment of
freedom to be able to touch her with his hands or his mouth.  Slowly the passion
in his eyes faded as he thought it over briefly, then finally jutted his chin
forward in silent communication. 

"Very well." She said commandingly as she rose from the circle of his arms for a
brief moment.  Moving him further onto the bed, she lifted his arms above his
head and clipped a chain already locked there to his hands.  Tightening the
tether to his ankles, she pinned him firmly, cross ways to the covers. 

He groaned deeply as her heat left him, then sighed softly as she settled back
atop his wide chest.  Lifting his head as much as he could, he nuzzled his
gagged mouth against her shoulder.  Her fingers came up to his mouth then,
prepared to remove the penis and he shook his head slowly, his eyes roaming up
to lock with hers. 

She cocked her head quizzically at him and moved her fingers again to his mouth. 
He pulled his head away from her fingers and shook his head again, giving off a
second mewling whimper. 

"Are you sure?" she asked, finally understanding what he was trying to say.

Gods help him he nodded.  While he wanted to talk to her, to taste her, to tell
her how much he wanted her, and this, what she was doing to him, he just didn't
trust himself yet.  Didn't trust himself not to bellow out the angry words that
were still with him.  Gulping against the gag, he nodded a second time to let
her know his decision.

Elaina simply shrugged her broad shoulders and moved her fingers away.  He
whimpered deeply pulling against the chain that held his hands and feet as she
sat up over his rock hard manhood.  For what seemed like an eternity, she simply
sat there, grinding her wet, warm womanhood against him.  He struggled, grinding
his hips upwards in an effort to get himself inside, but she was having none of
it.

With her long legs locked over his hips, no matter how he moved, he couldn't
shift enough to get inside.  Her hands came up and began to slowly play over her
budded nipples.  She pushed aside the top material of the corset and played her
body like a well-loved violin in the hands of the world's greatest mystro. 
Slowly her hands caressed down her flat, hard stomach and dipped between their
bodies.

Pushing back the folds of her womanhood, she eased back the hood of her clitoris
with a finger and began to tease herself with soft rubs.  Her other hand dropped
to the visible tip of his own manhood and began to mirror the actions of her
other hand, teasing him until he thought for sure he'd go mad.  Craning his neck
up as far as the chain at his hands would allow, he whimpered as he watched the
orchestra play a piece that was as old as time itself.

Her hips gyrated against him in response to the teasing of her hand, while his
own hips struggled and ground against the teasing of her fingers.  With a deep
moan of need, he shuddered and let his head drop back and closed his eyes. 
Struggling still to pull his hands free and hold her, touch her in whatever
limited way he could, he growled deep within his wide chest as she rose up off
him for the briefest of instants. 

Just when he thought she'd left him for good, rock hard and frustrated as usual,
her warm canal of pleasure slammed over him, sinking around him to the hilt.  He
jerked off the bed as much as the chains holding him would allow and renewed his
struggling jerks as at long last he gained the prize he'd wanted for weeks on
end.

With a deep, ragged, muffled moan, he jerked his hips against her trying to push
himself over the edge.  But as with everything else about her, she was in
complete control, stilling against him as he tried to take the initiative and
finish it before she was ready.  Leaning forward, a hand on either side of his
chest, she rocked up and down his length for a long moment, swiveling her hips
in a dance that was older than any that was being performed in the vast ballroom
far below.

He lifted his head and nuzzled his gagged mouth against her cheek with a soft
whimper of need.  He wished, at that moment, that he had let her remove the gag,
but it was too late.  He knew no matter how much he pleaded now, it wouldn't
come out unless she wanted it too.

Leaning close she whispered soft words of meaningless nonsense in his ear, which
only caused his erection to grow within her and his struggles against the chains
that held him to increase.  "Would you like to touch me Gage?" she whispered
softly.  "Feel my warm skin with your fingers?  Taste me with your mouth?  Lick
me with your tongue?"

With each question his body responded with a mind of it's own.  His fingers
clenched as much as they could within the mitten...his lips twitched underneath
the curved, hard leather that held them pressed tightly against his teeth...his
tongue strained to push the hard rubber penis out of the way with the tiny bit
of movement it had within his gagged mouth...his arms shook against the chain
that held them above his head...his legs strained against the tight rope above
his knees. 

"Would you like to cum Gage?" was the one question that almost sent him over the
edge and into long awaited bliss. 

He groaned longingly, shaking and shuddering beneath her knowing he was helpless
to do anymore than she was going to allow.  Seeing his response, she rose up on
her own stout legs and began to slam into him hard, the massive bed rocking
beneath them with each downward thrust of her hips.  Tossing her long hair out
of the way, which had somehow come loose and flowed down her back to graze
against his thighs teasingly, she let out a bellowing growl as both of them
finally crested over the edge.

Her long muscles shuddered, combining with his own blissful release and a fine
sheen of sweat broke out over both their bodies.  Gage had never cum so hard and
so long in his life.  His eyes rolled back into his head and his back arched off
the bed as far as his bounds would allow as he exploded at her command.  Every
muscle within him clenched until he thought for sure he'd pull something, then
finally began to ease into a quivering mass of flesh as she collapsed against
his chest in a heap of her own.

For a long while, their mutual ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. 
Then slowly, she eased up on an elbow and reached for his chained hands. 
Releasing the clip, she flopped back onto his chest as his mitten covered hands
dropped slowly to rest around her protectively. 

He lifted his head and nuzzled against her hair with a ragged, shuddering sigh. 
His forearms squeezed her gently and he pressed his covered lips against her in
his version of a kiss.  Lifting her head she looked into his eyes and smiled
gently.  Her fingers rose from his chest and softly touched the fingernail marks
on his skin.  He dipped his head away and lowered his eyes in shame. 

"Why Gage?" she asked simply.  "I thought you were happy here..."

His eyes flew open to lock with hers and he shook his head vehemently, mumbling
incoherent words behind the gag in an effort to make her understand.  She
stilled his head and unsnapped the piece that held the penis in his mouth and
pulled it free so he could speak.

"No...no..." he began, dipping his head into her hair in his shame.  "It's not
that..." he croaked out on a whisper.

She shifted and leaned onto her side a bit and pulled his head away to look into
his eyes.  "Then what is it Gage?" she queried softly, rubbing her fingers
lightly over the scratches he'd made.

"I...I was angry...yes..." he said, laying there staring into her worried eyes. 
"But...but not at you..." he added as he leaned up to softly kiss her lips. 
"Never at you."  He gulped softly and sighed deeply, his body still a weak mass
of flesh from their lovemaking.  "I...I was angry...angry that...that I...hadn't
made better decisions in my life...that...that things weren't different...for
me...for us...that...that I'm here because I have to be...because I don't have
any other choice...and it's all my own fault..." he stammered out chokingly.

Chapter Ten

Elaina wasn't quite sure what to make of Gage's soft confession so she said
nothing.  Instead she replaced the penis in his mouth, cuffed his hands back
into position on the short chain to his collar and rose off him.  She
disappeared out of his line of sight for a moment then returned with a basin of
warm water and a towel.  Cleaning up his manhood, then using a corner to clean
the scratches on his face. 

During her ministrations she still said nothing, then finally as she was getting
ready to leave the room again she spoke.  Sitting on the bed, she gave his wide
chest a soft kiss then smiled down into his eyes.  "Gage, I want you to think on
something the rest of the night.  I want you to look at it from another
perspective, then we'll talk again in the morning..." 

Gage raised his eyebrows, still content and relaxed from their lovemaking and
waited for her to say more.

"I want you to think of it like this.  If you hadn't made the decisions you had,
you and I never would have met.  And despite the circumstances that keep you
here, I think that's the best thing that could have happened."  She paused for a
moment to let that sink in, then added,  "Don't you think?"

With those soft words she was gone leaving Gage alone on the bed.  He rolled
onto his side and stared off into space, thinking over her words for a long
while, before finally drifting off to sleep.


The next morning dawned bright and sunny.  Elaina hadn't returned to him that
night and he woke in virtually the same position he'd drifted off to sleep in. 
Curled onto his side, mittened hands cuffed to his short collar and still warm
and content from their lovemaking. 

Before he'd drifted off, he realized her words were absolutely correct.  No
matter what the circumstances were that temporarily forced him to stay with the
two of them, it was the best thing that could have happened.  He was well fed,
well taken care of, looked after better than he'd ever been able to look after
himself, and despite the constant state of bondage he was kept in, he felt that
he was loved in more ways than he ever thought possible.

Eventually the door to the bedroom he'd stayed in opened and Deacon hobbled in. 
"Wake up sleepy head..." Deacon teased as he hobbled over to the bed and helped
Gage into a sitting position.  "The day's half gone already..." he added in a
light, jovial voice.

Deacon was chained as he usually was, hands and feet on short hobbles, but today
she'd left him free of a gag for once.  As he helped Gage up, he began to undo
parts of his bondage and replace it with others.  He took the short chain that
held his hands to his chest and clipped it to his waist in front.  Untying the
rope at his knees, he lengthened the hobble between his ankles and finally
removed the penis gag with a wide smile.  "Mistress thought you and I deserved a
day off." He stated when he was finished changing Gage's bondage around.  
Finally he removed the mitten that covered his hands and held out on of his own
to help Gage stand.

"Really?" Gage questioned.  It was actually one of the first times both he and
Deacon were free of a gag and he couldn't believe their luck.  "So..." he
paused, standing there looking slightly lost for a moment.  "What do we do?"

Deacon chuckled gently and started to hobble out of the room.  "We relax." He
stated.


Later on that afternoon found the two men stretched out on a pair of chaise
lounges outside.  The clear blue of a massive pool glittered at them as they
reclined against the warm plastic and neither man had spoken for a long while. 

"Mistress tells me you've always wanted to start your own business." Deacon
said, breaking the companionable silence between them.

Gage took in a deep breath and let it out with a long sigh.  "I'd thought too."
He began easily enough.  "I'd meant too." He added after a few moments of
silence.

"Doing what?" Deacon queried when Gage didn't seem inclined to say more.

Gage shrugged slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he thought about it.  "Working
with wood in some way.  I've..." he didn't know how the other man would take
what he was about to say, but he blundered ahead anyway.  "I've always enjoyed
working with my hands and wood..." he finally said.  "When...when I was in high
school, I couldn't get enough of woodshop.  Then in college, to pass the time, I
worked with it as well.  Carving, putting things together, etc..."

"Like what kinds of things?" Deacon asked next.

Gage shrugged slightly, the chains at his wrists rattling softly in the silence. 
"You know, the usual.  Chairs, tables, dressers, nightstands...that type of
thing."

The two men had passed the morning lazily.  Watching some TV, then a couple of
movies, and finally moving out by the pool to take in the sun of the early
afternoon.  Elaina had hired a clean up crew to take care of the aftermath of
the party and had ultimately instructed them to clean the rest of the house as
well to give them both the day to relax.  She wasn't forthcoming at breakfast as
to how the party went, but her smile was wide and pleased, so both men figured
she'd gained what she was after.

After breakfast she'd locked herself away in her office again and neither man
had seen her since.  Not that either of them was worried, the both knew the
Mistress of the house was well capable of taking care of herself.  So they'd
spent the day doing exactly as she'd ordered.  Relaxing, doing whatever they
pleased, and at the moment it was having a normal conversation beside the pool.

Deacon sat up now, swinging his hobbled legs over the side of the lounge chair
and looking at Gage's profile as he spoke.  "Are you any good?" he asked
bluntly.

Gage shrugged slowly.  "I think so.  I've sold some stuff over the years for a
good price, made a little bit of money with it." He added, turning on his side
to face his friend.

Deacon's brow furrowed in thought for a moment, then he asked another question. 
"Would you like to start your own business?  I mean for real, with a large
donation to get you started."

Gage looked at his new friend and narrowed his eyes for a moment before
speaking.  "It's kind of hard for me to think that far ahead." He stated in an
angry tone.

Deacon waved his bound hands in the air as he spoke to counter Gage's statement. 
"No no...I mean later on.  After this whole murder mess is cleared up.  Would
you like to go into business for yourself?"

Gage gulped slowly.  He really hadn't thought about it much lately.  There were
just too many other things looming in the near future for him to get that far in
his own mind, but now he did.  Setting aside the conviction and his jail
sentence in his thoughts, he turned over Deacon's words for a moment then slowly
nodded.  "Well, before..." he paused to gulp, then went on.  "The night I was
arrested...I was talking with my folks about taking over their basement for the
winter...make it into an all out workshop so...so that I could.  So," he paused
again.  "So, yeah, if I wasn't a convicted felon on the run from the police,
yeah, I'd like to go into business for myself."

Deacon clapped his bound hands together with a wide smile.  "So it's settled
then.  Once this nasty business is cleared up, we'll set you up in business. 
Right here at the estate..."  It was Deacon's turn to pause and look over Gage
slowly.  "That's assuming though that you'll want to stay here with us..."

Gage used an elbow to push himself upright and look at Deacon with wide eyes. 
"Are you saying..." he gulped softly.  "Are you offering?"  But he couldn't put
his jumbled thoughts into words just then so Deacon did it for him.

"Look, Mistress and I spoke last night, after the party.  She wanted me to talk
to you today." He stated simply.  "She said that if you were willing to stay
with us...once this business with the police was finished, she'd be more than
happy to fund a business for you." Deacon said with a wide smile.  "You have
figured out she's very well off right?"

Gage turned and looked at the towering mansion behind them and smiled crookedly. 
"Well..." he said turning back.  "I sorta figured she had money, yes."

Deacon chuckled again and rose easily to his feet.  "My friend you have no
idea." He said, holding out his bound hands to help Gage to his feet again. 
"Come on, I'll explain on the way." He added as the two men turned and hobbled
off inside.

Gage hobbled after his friend and asked the most logical question.  "Where are
we going?"

"To my computer." Was Deacon's only reply as the two men hobbled into the house. 
"If we're going to get you into business you'll need some equipment right?" he
asked as they moved through the cool interior toward an office on the first
floor.

"Well yeah..." Gage said as he moved along a couple steps behind Deacon. 

"Then we'd better get started ordering, don't you think?"  Deacon added, moving
into his office in the house and kneeling before another specially designed
computer.  As with the one at the house in the city, this one was just the right
height that he could kneel underneath and use the keyboard and mouse.  The one
here though had one special feature, a voice program that allowed it to activate
and be used if Gage's hands were unavailable.  "Computer, recognize Gage." He
said then turned to him as he knelt down beside him.  "Speak to it." He said
softly.

Gage stared at him perplexed then spoke a simple word.  "Hello?"

Deacon smiled gently as the computer answered.  "Voice pattern recognized," in a
metallic, reverberating tone.  "Gage." It added after a moment.  "Command Sir?"

Gage turned his head to the side and about fell over on his naked behind.  "It
talks." He said slowly.

"Command unrecognized." The computer returned and Deacon laughed long and hard
at the second shocked look on Gage's face.  When he could he spoke to Gage. 
"It's a voice recognition program Gage.  Just tell it what you need, or what
you're looking for and it'll do it for you."  He lifted his bound hands in
indication and smiled.  "It's the latest in computer software and was designed
for paraplegics and the disabled that couldn't readily use a keyboard and mouse. 
Similar to a screen reader for the blind." He added.  When Gage still didn't
seem convinced Deacon chuckled again and turned toward the computer, speaking
distinctly.  "Computer?"

"Voice recognized.  Deacon." It said.

"Search the Internet." He started then added.  "Woodworking implements."

There was a whirling sound from the hard drive, then a soft beep.  "Search
parameters too expansive.  Specify."  Came the metallic voice.

Deacon turned and looked at Gage with a raised eyebrow.  "You're the expert
here, not me.  Just tell it what you need and it'll find it..."

Gage finally got the idea and spoke in a distinct, slow tone, much as Deacon had
in the moments before.  "Computer."

"Voice recognized, Gage."

"Search the Internet...woodworking machines from Orion." He named off a company
he'd used in the past to replace some parts on one of his older machines then
sat back and waited.

Another whirl, then a beep, then the computer's monotone.  "Twenty-one results
found."

"Computer, display, starting with one, 30 second intervals." Was Deacon's
command and they both turned to the screen as one by one the web pages opened of
their own accord and began to scroll through the various pieces of machinery.

The two men spent the next several hours scrolling through all manner of
equipment.  From Drill presses, to lathes, to bit saws and everything in
between. They ordered half a dozen pieces or so, a supply of quality cedar and
oak, and finally ended the afternoon by ordering up the smaller pieces and
supplies Gage would need.

Just before dinner, Deacon sat back on his haunches and looked at the final
invoices displayed on the screen.  "Not bad for a price tag of almost $30,000
don't you think?" he asked looking at Gage with a smile.  "Top of the line
equipment I'd say..."

Gage looked sheepish for a moment and asked a seemingly logical question. 
"Won't...won't she be upset that we spent so much?"

For the second time Deacon laughed long and hard.  Gage's face deepened into a
blush at the thought of being the butt of a joke he didn't get until Deacon
explained.  "No Gage, she won't be upset.  To be honest, she's more likely to be
upset that we didn't spend more than we did..." he said, rising gracefully to
his feet and waiting until Gage followed.  "One thing you'll learn soon enough
is that Mistress only wants and accepts the best..." he said as the two men
hobbled out of the office.

Gage followed and asked another question.  "How...how did you come to be
with...with her?"

This time Deacon chuckled softly and took a moment to explain how he and Elaina
had met and what had happened since, finishing off with, "Since then I've been
under her tutelage and care..."

Gage pulled up short and rattled the chains at his wrists in implication as he
spoke.  "Wait a minute, you mean to tell me you volunteered to...to..." he gave
another indicative rattle of chain.  "To stay like this?"

Deacon nodded, a pleasant smile on his face.  "Oh yes Gage.  I've never been
happier in my life than I have been in the last year and a half.  Don't get me
wrong though, it hasn't all been fun, games and sex.  Mistress has some
stringent rules that I must follow and when or if I break them I'm punished, but
it's always been done with love and for my own good." He stated with a soft, if
sheepish smile. 

Gage couldn't believe what he was hearing.  The man, a wealthy man by the sounds
of it, had voluntarily been bound, hand and foot and gagged for the better part
of a year, of his own free will. 

Seeing the look of shock on Gage's face, Deacon chuckled softly a second time. 
"You mean you thought that I wasn't here because I wanted to be?"

"Well..." Gage stuttered.  "I...I kinda thought your situation might be like
mine...because you have to be..."

Deacon reached out and took Gage's hand with his own and began to drag him back
down the hallway toward the dining room.  "Nope, not that way at all.  I can
walk away anytime I choose too Gage.  By the reverse, the Mistress can dismiss
me anytime she feels that it's just not working.  It's part of the contract." He
stated casually.

"There's a contract?" Gage croaked out as he allowed himself to be dragged
along.

"Yes, there is.  She and I both signed it about a year ago.  It states the
limits which I have, things that I will and will not do, and the things she will
and will not do to me." Deacon returned softly as they came to a halt outside
the door.  Both men could see Elaina waiting, standing in front of the TV in the
room and leaning back against the table.  "Now, no more talking or questions. 
Our day of relaxation is over." He whispered then shuffled into the room to
kneel patiently beside the large chair at the head of the table.

Gage followed suit and both men waited silently for her to acknowledge them. 
Eventually, when the news report broke for a commercial she turned and headed
back to the chair with a pleasant smile on her face.  "Did you boys have fun
today?" she asked as she slid gracefully into the seat.

"We did Mistress." Deacon replied his head dropping to his chest.

"Yes Ma'am." Was Gage's reply as he too dropped his chin to his chest.

"And did you accomplish your task Deacon?" she asked, looking over at him.

"We did Mistress." Deacon returned lifting his head to look at her.  "The first
of Gage's equipment will be here within a week.  The more customized stuff will
take a bit longer, but should arrive by month's end."

"Very good." She said reaching out to touch his cheek affectionately.  She
turned and lifted Gage's chin with a crooked finger.  "Are you happy?"

"Oh yes Ma'am..." Gage said, letting his happiness show in his eyes.  "Thank
you...very much...I...I...never expected too..."

She silenced his words with a simple finger on his lips.  "There's no need to
thank me Gage.  You are expected to earn your keep just like Deacon." She said
with an affectionate smile.  "After dinner we'll discuss it a bit further, but
right now I'm famished."

Dinner was served by the last of the cleaning crew, who didn't blink or skip at
beat at the presence of two naked, chained men kneeling beside her chair.  When
the spread was laid out, Elaina dismissed the young lady with a wave and a quick
statement of thanks for the job well done.  The young lady curtsied and smiled,
bowing herself out of the room.  Moments later the three of them heard the front
door shut and Elaina began to eat, feeding both men as was her usual habit.

When she was finished she picked up something off the table and turned to
Deacon.  Gage heard the distinct sound of buckles and locks being done up and
when she moved away he groaned softly as Deacon was once more chained up in some
very restrictive bondage.  He had on the arm binder and a ring gag complete with
a full head harness.  She'd buckled his knees together with a padlock and
shortened the hobble between his ankles to the point that the poor man would
have to once more hop to get anywhere.

"Upstairs Deacon." She commanded gently.  "Prepare yourself." She added as he
rolled to his feet and began the slow process of hopping off. 

"Ma'am?" Gage said in an astonished tone as Deacon hopped by him.  "What...what
did he do?"

"Nothing." Elaina said, then explained further.  "It just pleases me to see him
like that."  She rose herself then and clipped a short leash to his own collar
and gave it a gentle tug.  "Let's go have a chat, shall we?"

Gage, like Deacon, rolled to his own feet and followed.  As they passed the
stairs he saw Deacon about half way up, sitting on his behind and using his
bound arms to slowly pull himself up each step.  A fine sheen of sweat had
broken out on his forehead and he panted through the ring gag, groaning softly
each time his butt landed on the next highest step.  What Gage couldn't see was
the massive butt plug she'd added and chained to the tip of his arm binder so
that it shifted within him every time he moved.

They both stood watching as Deacon reached the last step and slowly squirmed
himself out of sight for a moment.  He reappeared after only a short time, and
began hopping off down the hallway once more.  As he disappeared, Gage felt the
gentle tug on his collar and turned to follow her into one of the sitting rooms.

She eased herself into an overstuffed chair and pulled him onto his knees with a
soft smile.  "Did you enjoy our time together last night Gage?" she asked when
he was settled.

He leaned forward slightly and nuzzled his cheek against her knee.  "Very much
Ma'am." He said softly. 

She reached out and stroked his bent head as she spoke her next question.  "And
would you like to do that again?"

Gage nodded, the words to answer her stuck behind a lump in his throat. 
Already, with just the gentle touches to his bent head, he felt himself growing
hard. 

She lifted his head and looked into his eyes.  "If you didn't have a murder
conviction over your head would you like to stay here with me, with us?"

Again Gage nodded, his words stuck, but the emotions plainly visible in his
eyes.  Adoration, affection, even something close to love shown through and he
smiled softly, leaning into her palm with a soft sigh.  "Very much Ma'am." He
finally managed to say.

"Even with the constant bondage I'll keep you in?  You're willing to stay?" she
asked slowly, punctuating her statement with a soft caress of his cheek.

"Even...even with the bondage..." he croaked out softly, leaning into her touch
with another soft smile.

"Good." Elaina said with an extremely wide, pleased smile on her face as she
leaned in and kissed his lips hard, commandingly taking control of everything he
was, everything he had to offer her.  When she sat back some moments later, she
rubbed his head and pulled him onto her thighs as she spoke.  "How long does it
take for you to do a piece of furniture?"

Gage shrugged his shoulders, folding himself against her lap with a happy sigh. 
"It depends on the piece Ma'am.  I can do several chairs in a week, a table in
about the same time, but it takes a bit longer for bigger pieces such as
dressers and the like."  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes.  "That's
also working full time, eight to ten hours a day Ma'am." He added almost as an
after thought.

She stroked his cheek affectionately and smiled into his eyes.  "Very good Gage. 
Now," she began, pushing him back onto his knees as she reached to the table
beside her.  "Once all of your equipment arrives I'll let you do the first few
things on your own, so that I can see your quality of work." She said unlocking
his cuffed wrists from their chain and drawing them behind him as she went on. 
"After that, and we'll see how well your pieces sell, then I will begin giving
you things to do.  Pieces commissioned for my friends and acquaintances and the
like.  I'll give you free-reign for the design however, it will have to be
specific in some cases like a dresser with carved legs and the like,
understand?" she asked as she began to work an arm binder similar to Deacon's
over his hands.

"Yes Ma'am." Gage returned softly as he felt the leather being worked over his
skin and laced up tight.  When she was finished, it wasn't so tight that it
pulled his arms together, but it was tight enough that he had no freedom of
movement whatsoever.  Even his hands were kept apart by a single piece of
leather inside and his fingers were held to a stiff point. 

She crossed the two straps of leather over his chest and locked them to the top,
then smoothed a piece of leather over the laces so there was no way to untie
them, before locking the whole thing together with a single lock.  He groaned
softly as once more his sense of touch would be limited to what he could feel
with his face.  She picked up another strap and wrapped this around his wrists
then locked it to the belt at his waist in back, further pinning his arms behind
him. 

"There are things you'll need to begin getting used to Gage, even though you've
done well so far with everything I've asked." She was saying as she clipped a
chain to the end of his pointed hands and pulled it tightly between his legs to
the ring on the front of his belt. 

His hands settled into the natural curve of his butt and stayed there despite a
jerking effort from him to move them even slightly.  She picked up his penis gag
next, only this one was a bit longer and bigger in diameter and he almost begged
her not to use it, then thought better of it as she pressed it gently to his
lips.  Instead he opened his mouth as wide as he could and felt it slide over
his tongue and rest at the back of his throat.   He gulped softly and shifted
his tongue to find a comfortable position for it as she strapped it tightly and
immovably about his head.

His lips pressed tightly to his teeth as the hard curved leather settled over
the lower part of his face.  He couldn't have stopped the mewling whimper that
escaped his throat even if he'd wanted to.  But Elaina just smiled and lifted
him to his feet.  He stood, his arms tightly bound behind him and waited to see
what she would do next. 

He didn't have to wait long as she came around in front of him and took a moment
to work his slightly limp manhood through a ring set into the chain that held
his hands to his butt.  He groaned as he felt himself growing rock hard at her
gentle touch and tried to shift against her hands.  She slapped his hip
playfully and tisked her tongue against her teeth, before picking up what looked
like a soft, cotton sock. 

He realized its intent a moment later as she began to roll it over his growing
manhood.  It was made of what almost felt like nylon, but was a bit stronger. 
As it rolled over him he noted a ring at its top which she ultimately locked to
the chain with a tiny silver padlock then bent to tighten it back behind the
ring and squeeze the ring more tightly around the base of his shaft, effectively
cutting him off from even being able to touch it.  Pinned to his pelvis now, he
knew he could get an erection but there would be no way for him to grasp it,
even if his hands had been free.

She further impeded this by picking up another small strap of leather with three
smaller straps and three buckles.  Working this behind the tight chain to his
waist, she wrapped each individual strap around his semi-erect penis and buckled
up each, adding a tiny lock to the hole provided and completely encasing him. 
He groaned deeply and twisted his upper body against the feeling of being caged
and locked away which caused the chain at his fingertips to pull and caress his
imprisoned manhood.  He groaned again and wiggled his hands, causing the same
sensations to course through his penis and he watched as it grew in its soft
sock, stretching almost painfully against the straps that held it to the chain.

He looked up at her with pleading eyes, but she only smiled and softly caressed
his cheek.  "Get used to it Gage my dear.  For I'm just as likely to leave that
on you for a week...or longer..."  With that said she rose from the chair and
moved off toward the stairs.  Turning back in the doorway for a moment she spoke
in a soft air of command.  "At the very least you'll wear it until the first of
your equipment arrives.  Then we'll see..."

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