Chapter 2: Getting Together

We decided to live as we were for the next two weeks, then I moved in with him. More importantly, I became his full time ‘slave girl’. I continued to work at the aircraft company, but we decided at the end of the first month of living together that I would quit my job and take care of the house. At first, I would have my own room, my own bed and a place to store my clothes and other belongings, even though I’d probably spend most nights in his bed.

The situation evolved and I happily settled into my new role, but my life, as the lady of the house, was substantially different from that of most other women. Thomas and I had come to an agreement that I was to be his, in all respects, and I agreed to his conditions with a happy heart and soul. These lived up to what I thought I’d enjoy, and soon he began to spend freely to create the equipment and environment of my dreams. Within a month of my moving in, Michael, a close friend of Thomas, came to the house and constructed the first version of my ‘Dungeon’. This was actually quite a small area, having originally been a large basement bathroom. Michael equipped it with strongly-mounted restraint rings complete with dangling chains, then replaced the normal door with a tightly barred one, just like a true jail cell. Thomas and I wanted this little playroom to remain secret, and so Michael was at the same time commissioned to build a cement partition wall, complete with a heavy, steel-covered door, hidden behind a set of shelves that were apparently bolted firmly to the wall.

Michael is a man of many talents, and amongst them was the fact that he was a metal worker of extraordinary skill with all of the tools required to build the next pieces of equipment I hungered for. Thomas and I spent a lot of time discussing the kind of restraints we wanted to have created and I made it very clear that the ensemble I was to be locked into was to be an all-encompassing restraint harness, imprisoning not only my limbs, but also my head and body. The ensemble was, of course, to be utterly secure and inescapable once they’d been fitted to me and Thomas happily agreed with my desires, then added-in elements I’d not thought of. He demanded that I also be required to wear a chastity belt as a part of my bondage harness in addition to a thing he called a ‘chastity bra’. I wasn’t sure I wanted those additions, but he insisted, and so I reluctantly agreed to them. When he suggested that a gag and blindfold should also be incorporated as add-ons, I almost passed out with the desire to experience everything ... right now!

We began to work on the actual design of the restraints and soon came up with one that met all of our requirements. It was a lot of fun making the patterns and we used much construction-type cardboard to create the designs that Michael would soon bring to reality. Naturally, Thomas wanted my restraints to be of the highest quality, so Michael would make them from a very tough grade of stainless steel, despite how difficult that material was to work with. Once we’d finalized our designs for my restraints, Michael did casts of my head, arms, and legs, telling me without doubt that Thomas was seriously intentioned about having the harness made.

It actually took some months to create the designs to his and Michael’s satisfaction, but during our wait, we continued to play with the handcuffs, and soon we’d added other chains to the ensemble. I was very happy with these changes, but while the weeks passed, I began to wonder when my other restraints would be ready. Thomas soon discovered how nimble my fingers were when I showed him the ease with which I picked the locks of the handcuffs and released myself, and so purchased some extremely high security ones from an American company and I quickly discovered, once wearing them that I couldn’t get them off.

We continued to go to the clubs and play our games, but now, he kept me under stricter control, for during the wait for my new restraints, he’d purchased a light, steel collar and a chastity belt. He now required that I wear them whenever we went out to clubs and it was fun for me to tease and flirt with other men, knowing I was safely contained. Thomas, though, was unhappy with my behaviour even though he held the keys. By nature he was a jealous man and he soon demanded that I wear the chastity belt and collar at all times when I was out of the house. On one hand, I rebelled at the idea that he considered me incapable of being faithful, but on the other, I was secretly thrilled at this deepening of his control. I agreed to this increase of my slavery with somewhat feigned reluctance, but wearing the collar and chastity belt didn’t stop me from doing the chores, and if I really wanted to get them off, I could pick the locks or cut them off.

One of the consequences of my new underwear was that now, I had to forgo wearing the tight trousers I’d so enjoyed, for they revealed the prominent lines of my chastity belt and so I took to wearing looser, skirts that quite effectively hid its presence. Even so, I was always conscious of the steel around my waist pressing firmly into my belly and the band cinched up tightly between my legs. When he was home, I was free of the chastity belt most of the time, but the wearing skirts or dresses at all times was another facet of Thomas’ desire to make me more and more his undeniably female slave. At first I rebelled against this dictate, and forcible reminder of my femaleness, but he was adamant and so I gave in and accepted that I must. My collar, however, never came off, and I soon got used to wearing it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If I left the house on an errand, I wore a scarf or a turtle neck sweater to hide its presence, but was always fearful that someone would see the steel band locked snugly around my throat, precisely as he intended I feel.

Sometimes, when we played, he’d take me down to the small dungeon and once there, I’d be leashed to the wall with a strong, short chain. During these adventures I was of course kept naked and restrained with the handcuffs, and most times I was also fitted with ankle cuffs joined by a short or long chain, depending on his mood. I very much enjoyed the love-making when this happened! But one night, when we’d finished, or so I thought, he closed and locked the cell door, leaving me inside with my hands still cuffed behind my back, ankles chained closely together, and still leashed to the wall by a chain just long enough for me to lay on the mat that served as my bed! At first, I was shocked when he didn’t release me to come back upstairs with him, but the seriousness of my situation struck me fully when he closed the heavy steel door and I heard its bolts slide closed. It was locked from the outside and I was alone, helplessly chained, and for the first time in my life, truly a prisoner! What a rush of sensation surged through my body! It was deathly quiet in the basement, and for long moments, I lay on my side, staring out between the tightly spaced steel bars of my little cell. I wanted to have sex with him again, immediately!

Over the next hours, I prayed he’d come back and ravish me, but he didn’t return that night, having already fallen into his bed and dropped immediately into a deep sleep. I, however, could not sleep and lay writhing against my bonds, trying to masturbate. Of course it was totally useless, fastened as I was, but I too eventually fell asleep, as restless as it turned out to be. Although the basement was warm and the mat comfortable within reason, I wanted some sort of sheet or covering, but there was nothing. I could use the toilet with little difficulty, but when I wanted a drink of water, it was very difficult to manage.

Nearly all homes in Germany are made completely of concrete; it being used for the floors and walls and so I knew no one would ever hear me if I tried to yell for help. I was his prisoner, held in an inescapable, little concrete prison, and knew without a doubt that it would be impossible for me to break out. Thomas’ house is located in the suburbs, separated from all of the neighbours by a large garden space and trees and in addition, there wasn’t a house directly across from it, so, in effect, it is isolated even more. Not only that, but the house is built into the side of a small hill with its front facing to the road some twenty-five metres away and my ‘cell’ is at its back, facing north. Even if I made a lot of noise, the chance of being heard beyond the walls of the cell was very small and the chance of anyone hearing my cries and screams beyond the walls of the house, to say nothing of beyond the property line (and it is a big lot), were non-existent.

At the end of the room, beyond my bathroom cell, there was a small window set high in the wall. Outside that is a three metre deep, narrow, concrete-walled air shaft that rises to a small window box against the foundation at the back of the house. Its top is fitted with a closely barred grill and this is locked securely so that only a small amount of sunlight can come down the narrow shaft. The window always beckons to me as being a possible means of escape from my ‘dungeon’, as I’d already begun to think of it.

At last morning came and I found myself standing before the barred door, straining against the chain leash that tethered the back ring of my collar to the wall, wanting now with more worry than arousal to see him. The hours dragged endlessly by, and still he did not come. When he finally returned I was overjoyed, even though he stood beyond the bars and made no move to free me. He smiled when I asked that he release me from my leash and cuffs.

“No, Sabrina.” he smiled happily. “You will remain precisely where you are, as you are now confined, for the next three days. This is your first lesson of imprisonment.”

For a moment I stared at him speechless, then, just before I began to protest, he spoke again.

“Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” he asked, another small smile twitching his lips.

I swallowed what I was about to say and glanced up at him, then looking down and blushing deeply, whispered a reply.

“Yes, this is exactly the sort of thing I’ve dreamt about … for years.”

Being chained and leashed behind the bars and having to make that admission was far more embarrassing than I thought it would be, so I continued to stare down at the floor, my face still flushed with embarrassment. He disappeared, but a few moments later returned with some covered, plastic plates of food. I was commanded to come as close to the bars as I could to be fed, and soon he began passing my meal through them with a spoon. I found this to be very erotic and pulled against my restraints and short leash while I ate, much to his amusement. When I was finished, he collected all of the implements.

“I’ll be back tonight with your evening meal. Good bye!” With that, he turned and walked away leaving me standing there, dumbfounded.

Short seconds later the outer door of the dungeon boomed closed and he was gone again leaving me confined in the locked cell, tethered to the wall by an inescapable chain leash! While those first hours wore away, the knowledge that I was a naked, helplessly chained, secret prisoner, perhaps alone in the house and with no way of telling anyone about my situation, made me feel really wonderful. I became very aroused and struggled what little I could against my tightly clasped cuffs, surging against the implacable length of chain linking me to the wall, enjoying the realization of this long-held fantasy. However, the eroticism of my situation soon faded, not having anyone to share it with, or to take advantage of me while I was restrained like this and I was left bored and becoming bitchier by the moment. I wanted to escape my solitary confinement, but could do absolutely nothing!

Thomas returned with my meal that night, and when I was finished he left me alone once more, even though I begged him to stay and talk a little while. I tried to get him to come into the cell and have sex with me, but he was resolute, and with a smile I had soon been left alone again, my frustration overtaking all of the arousal I felt. The next two days passed in the same way, but late the third night, he returned, opened the cell door, and came inside. By that point, I was pathetically glad of his company and very nearly in tears.

He came to where I sat against the wall, pushed me onto my side then casually rolled me onto my back. He disrobed while I shivered and whimpered with need, then quickly lengthened the chain between my ankle cuffs, but left my hands still cuffed securely behind, remaining snugly collared and leashed to the wall. Only then did he make slow and excruciatingly prolonged love to me. I could not contain myself, becoming aroused immediately, and soon, screaming for him to penetrate me to the deepest he could manage while I writhed and fought my bonds like a demented thing. It was the most intense series of orgasms I had yet experienced.

When we finally collapsed from our lovemaking, he re-joined my ankles as before, then fell asleep almost instantly, leaving me bathed in sweat, still shivering with reaction against my restraints. With nothing to do, I too fell soundly asleep, only partially waking when he rose and left the cell, leaving me still locked within.

The next morning he returned to release me from the leash and my cuffs and within two minutes, I was upstairs enjoying a blissful, long bath and shower. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, he silently handed me my chastity belt and pointed to the bed where he’d laid out my favourite leather skirt and a nice beige top with a high turtle neck.

By the appearance of these, I knew I was to be taken out of the house and so quickly donned my clothes, finding the chastity belt to be as oppressive and controlling as always. I obeyed his unspoken command, and soon thereafter we were eating breakfast. He informed me that today I was to get my hair cut to a very short style then after that we’d go to a local dive shop to get my dungeon suit.

It was then I knew my new restraints must nearly be ready and I couldn’t help my shivers of part-worry, part-excitement, and part-arousal, knowing that at some point soon, I would finally get to wear them! I didn’t like the idea of having my long, beautiful hair cropped, but he was now even more fully my master and so I didn’t complain about his conditions. An hour later, we were on our way into town and my first taste of what was to come.