Chapter 6: The First Time

He returned to the pile of glittering steel equipment on the top of the puppy cage and picked out the chastity belt part of my harness.

This device was distinctly different from the one I’d worn until now, being of far more substantial construction and, of course, made of the very tough and considerably thicker stainless steel. I stared at it while he prepared to place the wide cinch around my middle, and he looked up at me.

“You’ll have to suck in your belly when I fit the waist cinch. It’s going to be very tight.”

“Y-yes, Master.” I acknowledged with a quavering voice.

The cinch was twelve cm smaller than my natural waist, being five mm thick and ten cm wide! He clasped it around my middle then forced the edges close together, compressing and imprisoning my body unmercifully until the holes in the flanges at the front lined up. The bolts were already in place, so he stuck the hexagonal-headed key into the top one and began screwing it into the other flange. Once the bolt’s threads engaged those in the hole, he started with the bottom one, then pulled the dungeon suit’s material out of the away so it wasn’t pinched, and tightened both of the bolts fully.

“Spread your legs apart widely!”

I obeyed wordlessly and he reached between them then drew the wide crotch covering shield forward. This one was also different from the normally smooth inner surface of my previous chastity belt’s crotch shield for there was a wide, formed wedge mounted on it and this just touched my labia ... at first. When he pulled the shield further up, the wedge slipped between them, penetrating my sex for about five cm! I gasped with shock then writhed my body trying to make it more comfortable, feeling it sink deeper and spreading me; at the same time, shuddering from its light pressure on my clitoris. He paid my unvoiced protest no attention but pulled it higher and more uncomfortably against my lower belly. The slot at its top end slipped over the flange on the front of my uncomfortably wide cinch, until it lay flat against the waistband. He took a heavy, tamper proof lock from his pocket and closed it through a hole of the flange and I couldn’t stop the shudder of arousal that passed through me when I experienced the sensation of being securely bound and locked away from myself once more. As well, the knowledge that this was only the beginning of incarceration in my personalized steel restraints made me shudder anew. Despite the tightness of the waist cinch and the pressure of the shield on and through my crotch, I continued to writhe my lower body, trying to find some way of easing the discomfort of the wedge, but could discover no way to ease the sensation of its distressing penetration. Each time I moved, its upper portion brushed and caressed my clitoris, making me automatically shiver and move even more, continuing my arousal!

Behind, he pulled out one of the chains from the wall ring to the central rear ring of the waistband and somehow affixed it. I discovered later that all of the chains I wore were fastened with heavy, stainless steel, marine type shackles, and when he’d finished applying them fully, the only way they could be removed was with a heavy, compound-jawed bolt cutter!

“Step into the thigh bands, Sabrina.”

I dutifully did as commanded and he drew them up my legs and over my knees to the midpoints of my thighs. These two cm wide, five mm thick cuffs were joined together with five cm of chain and served to prevent me from spreading my upper legs apart to avoid the constant pressing of the rounded edges of the shield against the sensitive flesh at the tops of my inner thighs.

“Stand still while I fit your chastity bra.” he ordered, going back to the pile of equipment.

This device consisted of two, large, bullet-headed hemispheres joined together with a ten cm wide, five mm thick band. It was hinged on the sides under each of my arms then curved around my ribs to where its flanges clamped together over my spine at the back. At the front, a triple set of chains hung from the middle of the cup-dividing busk and a doubled set came from loops welded to the band at the outer side of each cup. At the back, two more doubled chain sets hung loosely, while at the sides, one under each of my arms were other short lengths of chain.

He took some minutes adjusting the fit of the heavy piece, then screwed the bolts into the flange, making it clamp snugly around my chest, sinking slightly into the rubber suit beneath. It was quite tight and, with each breath, I felt the wide band stop my chest from expanding! The steel domes prevented me from touching my breasts in any way and I moaned from the sensation of feeling my now captive and swollen, sensitised flesh bouncing freely inside them, still untouchably snared! The cups of the bra were not designed with the idea of supporting my pendant flesh though, only of imprisoning it and preventing me from touching myself.

Wordlessly, he held up my wrist cuffs and their separator bar. Each cuff was five cm wide and five mm thick; oval-shaped to prevent me from twisting my wrists inside them once they’d been closed. The cuffs were separated by a, forty cm long one and a half cm diameter steel bar, welded to loops on each, and would act to prevent me from touching one gloved hand to the other. I would soon grow to hate having to wear this awful thing for it was extremely restrictive ... far, far more so than I’d ever imagined it could be!

“Put you right wrist into the opened cuff, Sabrina!” he commanded firmly.

I was a little frightened of having to wear this portion of my harness, even though I’d specified it as a required, permanent part, but nevertheless, I tentatively placed my right wrist in the opened portion of the cuff, and he swung the other half closed. The wide metal band didn’t shut completely at first because of the thickness of the suit’s rubber, but when he screwed in the bolts and tightened them, the flanges met, clamping firmly around my wrist, sinking slightly into the rubber. Being as tight and shaped as they were, I could not now shift or twist my arm within it, as intended. Feeling this restriction, I wasn’t sure that I wished to continue and have my other hand and arm made captive, but Thomas was determined.

“Give me you other hand and arm.”

Without waiting for me to obey, he grasped my left hand and I reluctantly allowed him to place it in the opened cuff. A minute later, it too was held captive. I stared down mournfully, moving my arms a little against their restriction, able only to rotate my whole arm because of the eyes on the ends of the bar passing through similar ones on the cuffs.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he asked conversationally, picking up the cuffs for my upper arms. “Raise your arms!”

I dutifully held them up out to my front as far as I could while he clasped the five cm wide, five mm thick bands just above my elbows, then screwed their flanges together until I could feel their tight restriction. Once he was done, I allowed my arms to drop so he could connect the 10 cm long chains from the sides of the bra chest band to their rings then held them to the length of the chains while he screwed the shackles closed. From the above-the-elbow cuffs, the chain continued down to be fastened to the wrist ones, then another length was left to dangle freely ... for the moment. Another shiver of delicious apprehension swept through my body while I felt myself becoming ever more fully a captive, but he spoke little, other than his commands to make me more accessible for my binding. When he’d finished with my arms, he began to fasten the chains between my cinch and the bra’s chest band. One from each outer side of my breast cups was dropped to my chastity belt and these were quickly shackled to rings on the top edge of the belt, immediately below. Next, he took the two outer chains from the dividing strap between the cups and connected these to the same rings then their shackles were also screwed tight. He went behind me and drew the chains from the chest band on each side of my spine, down to their rings on the upper edge of the cinch, requiring me to straighten my body and bend slightly backward for them to be fastened.

I closed my eyes and began to pant and gasp, feeling myself becoming more and more deeply enmeshed in my incredible steel and chain restraint system. I clenched my tightly gloved hands, feeling how they, and the tightly clasped wristbands, restricted my fingers but when I unconsciously tried to bring them together, the separator bar completely stopped the attempt before it even began. I stared down stupidly at this restriction, and another shivering fit passed through my body when I realized that I was soon going to be utterly helpless. A wordless moan hissed from between my lips and I writhed fitfully.

“OK! Sit on the stool while I fit you with the Spanish Trapezoid.”

I’d tried on the proto-type of this device when Michael was making it and hadn’t liked the feeling very much at all, but when I told Thomas it wasn’t very comfortable, he then insisted that it was to be a part of my ensemble, like it or not, and so it had been built. Now, I was going to be fastened into it for real! I sat, but found immediately that wearing my new chastity belt, even over the dungeon suit, it was quite uncomfortable with the crotch shield clamped tightly against my body and between my legs. When my weight came on the crotch plate fully, it pressed even more deeply into my lower belly and, at the same time, forced the waistband higher on my stomach. I wished then, and have countless times since, that the stool had a padded seat, but even that small comfort has never been granted. Sitting down also drove the wedge deeper into my sex when my weight settled onto the crotch piece, and I moaned from the increase of the sensation. Yes, it was arousing, but there was no possible way for me to gain access to my sex!

The Spanish Trapezoid is a hellish device. It consists of two sets of wide steel cuffs and joining bars with each of its cuffs being five cm wide and five mm thick.

“Spread your legs!” he commanded firmly.

I obeyed with reluctance then felt the top pair fitted just below my knees, into the hollow below each, above the bulges of my calf muscles. These cuffs are formed like a flattened tear drop so that they tightly conform to the shape of the shin bone and are separated by a twenty-five cm long, one and a half cm diameter steel bar; this being fastened to them in such a manner that the cuffs can move freely at the bar’s ends. In a couple of moments, their flanges had been bolted together and I felt how tight they had become. I automatically attempted to bring my legs close together, but nothing happened! My legs remained held apart! It was time for the ankle cuffs to be fitted and they, like the wrist cuffs, are oval shaped and designed to fit so tightly that they sink into the suit’s neoprene.

“Spread your lower legs wider!” he ordered, holding onto the bar that separated the ankle cuffs.

I moved them as far apart as the bar between the below the knee cuffs permitted and Thomas wasted no time. He grabbed my rubber-sheathed left ankle and pulled my leg out to the side then flipped the ankle cuff closed. I stared at the top of his head, unable to bend forward very much because of the tight chains between the chastity belt’s cinch and my bra chest band at the back, silently watching him work. Unresisting, I allowed him to pull my right leg out until its ankle cuff could also be fastened, and when he’d finished, my legs were splayed even further apart! The lower spreader bar was even longer than the upper one, some forty cm in length, fastened to my ankle cuffs in the same way. The two sets of cuffs are kept vertically separated by slightly thinner steel bars on the inner side of each of my lower legs and so once the cuffs had been affixed, they could not be moved, and no matter whether I lay down, sat, stood, or tried any other way, I would never be able to get my legs closer together or further apart!

“Stand up girl!”

With his help, I rose to my feet and stood before him, shivering with delicious terror. Thomas took the two sets of gartering chains dangling from the front and sides of the waistband and adjusted them to rest on my thigh cuffs, then screwed their shackles tightly closed with a wrench. Next, he pulled up the inner and outer side chains from the below-the-knee cuffs and used another set of shackles to secure them to the thigh bands, pulling those tight!

A shiver of anticipatory terror passed through my body and while I stood there, he again knelt then took the fifty cm long chain from the thirteen kg steel ball and shackled it to the central ring of the ankle spreader bar, even further limiting my freedom of movement!

“Walking isn’t going to be easy for you, Girl!” he commented with another grim smile, “but that’s part of your punishment.”

He stood back and looked at me while I stared out at him from within my mask and helmet, already feeling terribly a captive. Turning, he went back to the puppy cage and picked up the last of my harness, the combination head cage and collar. This was a terrifying device even though I’d enjoyed having it made and playing with the semi-confinement of the cardboard form it had been made from. However, I’d had no true thoughts about what it would actually feel like to be locked inside and not be able to get it off! Now, I saw the steel cage for the first time, and it scared me nearly brainless to realize that it soon, in fact, would be locked around my head and neck! There was no way I could avoid Thomas fitting it to me though, held and restrained as I already was. He walked casually over to me carrying the combination head cage and collar with its sides swung back and ready.

I moaned with terror at what was about to be done to me and tried to shrink from him, tugging my hands and arms in futility against the wrist bar, staring at the gleaming web of steel.

“Does this piece of your harness scare you, Sabrina?” he smiled.

“Y-yes, Master!” I whispered, staring at the thing. “I-I don’t think I want to wear it!”

“It’s a very important part of your restraint ensemble, Sabrina.” he explained as though to a small and not very intelligent child.

“M-m-master? I-I-I know that, but-but I think it will be very uncomfortable and-and I’d rather not wear it, please?”

“No, Sabrina. You will wear this head cage and collar. Now, hold still while I put it on you.”

He quickly stepped behind me then brought it down in front of my face and head, waiting for me to settle down. I could not suppress the moan of terror and arousal that came from my soul, for this thing was the embodiment of some of my deepest dreams and worst nightmares. When he heard this, he slowly moved it back toward himself ... and my head and face!

The cage is designed to fit very snugly onto and around my head, face, and neck, and its integrated, high collar is rigidly fastened to the web of straps that encase my skull. At the top central junction, on the crown of my head is a large ring, while at both the front and back of the collar hung two others and they all flopped noisily back and forth. Wide steel straps rose up the sides from the collar, snugly covering my ears over the thickened helmet of my dungeon suit. A wide band went across my forehead, curving around to join to the ones covering my doubly insulated ears. Another wide strap surrounded my lower face, curved to fit the contours of my head, and was joined to the ear covering straps also. It had an opening for my mouth, and below that, a cup for my chin. Beneath my chin, it was joined to the collar, while on its upper edge was a triangular opening formed by the two narrow straps rising on each side of my nose to be joined to the forehead strap in the middle, over its bridge. Above my upper lip, the thinner strip just beneath my nose had small pins set onto it, and there was a hasp at the place where the point of my jaw was covered by the chin cup.

Thomas slowly and deliberately moved the whole thing closer and closer to my rubber covered face, and I felt the collar begin to surround my throat over the neck tube of my dungeon suit! I gulped nervously while he slowly wriggled the cage backward onto my head until the two, narrow metal straps on either side of my nose pressed firmly onto the mask pressing the mask even tighter onto my face! I had to lift my chin to allow it to slip into its cup; therefore, my head would always be held up and I would be unable to lower it!

“Ah! An excellent fit!” he exclaimed happily while he closed the curved side panels until they met at the back of my skull. Like the cuffs, they could not be completely closed because of the thickness of the helmet’s material, but with a small grunt they were soon joined. The wide, back, vertical strap from the crown swung down and locked the flanges together, as well as having a slot in its end click down over a staple at the back of the collar! I felt him place the bolts then tighten them and when he did, the pressure of all the shaped steel straps around my head, neck, and over my face slowly began to increase! I tried to shake it and say that it was too much to bear, but discovered that I could barely twitch my head, and I could not lower my chin! Thomas finished cranking the bolts into their holes until the cage was securely fastened, ignoring my despairing moans then he began to fasten the remaining chains of my restraint and discipline harness.

The first he added was the neck leash chain from the wall, and this he immediately fastened to the back ring of the collar then began to work on the harness chains again. He bought up the others from my bra, (the ones from either side of my breast cups at the front, and the middle one from between the breast cups) and shackled them to a ring at the bottom front edge of my collar. Next, he pulled up the remaining two back chains and fastened them to the ring on the bottom edge at the back of the collar and when they’d all had been secured, they acted to pull the entire harness securely into position webbing my body in steel. I tried again to lean forward and look at myself, but now, the chain web choked me very effectively when I tried to bend forward! He wasn’t finished yet and took the chains still dangling from my wrist cuffs, led them back to the side and over the hip rings of my waistband, then shackled them there. Now, I could barely straighten my arms because the ones from the wrist cuffs to my belt were only fifty cm long, stopping me from raising my forearms any higher than the bottoms of my breast cuffs! I could not touch my head or face, even if I bent forward, and when I did, I began to be choked again!

Another wordless moan shuddered from my throat when I tried to raise my hands and touch myself, but I was sealed inside the dungeon suit and the gleaming steel harness restricted nearly all of my freedom of movement, as was the intent. Thomas went to a small box on the puppy cage while I shifted on my hard seat, still attempting to sit comfortably in the chastity belt, but my buttocks were left bare by the design of the suit and I didn’t like the sensation at all! He returned, this time carrying the box, a hammer, and a long, square piece of steel.

“It’s time to fit the security sleeves.” he stated calmly, as though he chained girls every day. “You will hold still while I place them and set the rivets!”

“Y-yes, Thomas.” I gasped in a flood of terror at what was being done to me.

“Master!” He barked.

“Y-yes, M-master.” I whimpered, now more than a little frightened by his harsh tone of voice.

All of the flanges of my restraints, other than the front one for my chastity belt, are at its back or positioned so I cannot get at them, no matter what I try. He slipped the shielding, steel security caps over those of my ankle cuffs then made some adjustments to my legs. I heard the hammer smash the rivets down into their countersunk holes then immediately the remainder of the security shields were placed and riveted into place. Fifteen minutes later, I was totally locked into my restraints. Next, he took the wrench and tightened every one of the shackles for my chains, then with a portable grinder, burnished off all of their turn out heads! The last thing he did was to bring over my running shoes, put them on my feet, lace them tightly, and tie the knots.

Again, he stood back and looked at me, this time with a wide smile of satisfaction playing over his lips.

“You are now ready to serve your sentence, Convict Sabrina!” He said quietly. “Toiletries have been provided for you and you must use them as best you are able. I will be observing you on the closed circuit TV and you had better do as the rules say!”

“Your rules of behaviour are contained in the booklet on your computer desk. For your information, the lights will never be turned off and every Friday, at 6:00 am, you will be diapered then placed in the puppy cage as a day of enhanced punishment. You will stay there for the full twenty-four hours and while you are in the cage, you will always be fitted with the feeding gag. The only nourishment you will receive during that time is a water and bread mash. Otherwise, each evening, you will hear the monitor beep when it is time for you to lie down for the night, and that will come at 9:45 pm. Another will sound at 10:00, and you must be lying on your mat at that point. The monitor will wake you at 6:00 am, and you will perform your normal morning toilet functions.

“Now, stand up!” I did, and he turned to me once more. “You are permitted to use the computer to amuse yourself convict, but it does not connect to the Internet. You may write email to your friends, and they may reply, but all messages are subject to my censorship and control. When I leave the dungeon, you will immediately lie down and go to sleep. It is now 2:00 am, so you’ll have a short night. For the moment, that is all.”

I stood awkwardly, my legs forcibly separated by the Spanish Trapezoid, watching him gather the tools he’d used and all the small pieces of chain and the other materials left over after I’d been dressed then imprisoned in my harness. Even now, so soon after beginning to wear it, I desperately wanted to claw the mask off my face and somehow get out of the compressing suit that seemed to be slowly sucking itself onto my skin.

Whenever I tried to move though, my chains and harness made their authority felt, prohibiting most of my natural until now second nature gestures. I wanted to raise my gloved hands and touch him before he left, but he quickly stepped aside, not even permitting me the smallest allowance of familiarity! I dropped them, feeling the wrist separator bar pulled down by the weight of the steel to lie against the fronts of my thighs, hands held securely separated.

“P-Please ... M-Master ..,?” I whimpered, “A kiss before you leave?”

“No, convict Sabrina! You are being punished for bad behaviour!”

I shuffled slowly toward him while he moved to the door but then suddenly felt the chain leashes tethering me begin to tighten; their weight stopping me when their loops swung freely between their harness connections and the wall ring. They were of sufficient length that I was able to get close to the lattice wall, and unthinkingly I tried to reach between the bars, only to have my wrist separator bar clang loudly against them. The cell’s door slammed closed, locking with a terrible, final, metallic sound then he went to the one that sealed my dungeon, and, just before stepping through and closing it, turned to me.

“Sleep, convict.”

I whimpered plaintively when the door slid shut and heard the heavy clacks of the bolts being slid home. I was alone and chained ... just as I’d always dreamt of being, but a small despairing wail passed my lips while I stood at the bars, for I began to realize that I was truly a prisoner, chained and utterly helpless in a very secure dungeon! No one but Thomas and Michael knew I was in here … and they were not about to tell anyone. I stood at the bars for a long time, holding them in my gloved hands, then at last, with difficulty, turned and stared back at the small area of my cell … my new home. I turned again and looked at the small, high barred window to the outer world, through the closely spaced ones of the lattice wall. It was hopeless! There was no way I could escape from here! Shuffling and swinging my legs awkwardly, I moved slowly around the small area of the cell, feeling the constant drag of the steel ball and the unending tug of my leashes, always reminding me of my status as a prisoner. My new life’s reality was reinforced even more by the rattling of my chains and the clicking sounds of my harness, in addition to the sound of the ball rumbling erratically back and forth when I attempted to walk. It added even more to my penance and I jerked my hands and arms against their short chains and the separator bar, struggling to find some easement in my strict bondage. There was none.

Within their isolating steel domes, my breasts had swollen with trapped blood and bounced uncomfortably with my every movement! I soon became desperate to touch them, as I had always been able to do until now, but they were held as constricted captives under their imprisoning domes and I couldn’t! At the same time, under my crotch cover, I could not avoid or escape the continual, teasing rub of the wedge on my clitoris and felt myself getting wetter with arousal, but as with my breasts it too was armoured and utterly beyond my ability to touch! I experienced a great excitation at my state of being so thoroughly restrained and deeply imprisoned, and desperately wanted to caress myself and enhance the pleasurable sensations. However, no matter how I twisted my hands and arms against the restriction of their cuffs, chains and separator bar, attempting to get at my crotch cover plate ... it was useless! When I barely managed to touch it with my gloved fingers, it was, of course, tightly locked onto my body, and I could do nothing to slake the burning need I had begun to feel so deeply.

Another whimper, this now of frustration, hissed from my mouth, slowly turning to a moan of misery, and I fought my restraints frantically, hoping that something was loose or would break but knowing that nothing would. Despite the cushioning effect of the dungeon suit’s three mm thick neoprene, the cuffs hurt when I struggled against them too hard, just as they were supposed to.

At last, I went into the small bath cell and, with great difficulty, brushed my teeth, got a drink of water, then used the toilet. It was very awkward to do all of these activities, and my harness automatically choked me while I bent over to brush my teeth. When I sat to use the toilet, the harsh metal clank of my chastity belt’s crotch piece hitting the steel seat acted also to inform me of how strictly I was bound. Drying myself was also very difficult and I began to silently sniffle, writhing slowly, trying to escape the terrible restrictions to my freedom. I struggled out of the bathroom to stand beside the thin mat that was my bed and slowly knelt beside it. When I tried to lie down, the harness proved to be even more restrictive than I’d ever thought it would be, prohibiting me from doing anything unless I partially-choked myself!

Finally, I bent far forward and placed my hands on the warm cement floor then carefully tipped myself to the side until I overbalanced and fell onto the pad in a flurry of flung chain and a fearful yelp. It was very uncomfortable but I slowly wriggled to the middle then lay staring up at the ceiling nearly three metres above. This was awful! I’d only been a prisoner and fastened into my dungeon suit and harness for an hour, and already, I wanted to escape from it! However, there was a voice growing more powerful in my mind, and yes! this was what I had craved for so long! Unthinkingly, I tried to bring my legs together or bend them, but the horror of the Spanish Trapezoid made its self felt immediately! There was no way I could lay on my side because it always held my legs apart, and when I partially rolled, my wrist separator bar forced my opposite arm high, pulling very uncomfortably on my chest harness!

My sleep that first night was not easy, and I got little of it. Once, I struggled slowly to my feet and went to the bath cell to use the toilet, but it was a long, uncomfortable, and awkward process to get to my feet again. With my legs fastened as they were, spread always the same distance apart, and my wrists captives of their separator bar, it was almost impossible.

Too soon I came awake to the insistent beeping from the monitor and I slowly got up again then walked to the lattice wall and held its bars, waiting for Thomas to appear. Eventually, I heard those that locked the door to my dungeon slide back with a heavy clack! and the door opened a moment later. He came in and stood on the other side of the lattice and looked at me, holding some covered plastic dishes.

“And so convict, you have spent your first night in your dungeon. How did you enjoy it?”

“I was very uncomfortable, Master.” I said with dry lips, looking longingly through the bars at him.

“That is how it should be for a prisoner.” he stated without feeling. “Now, here’s your breakfast and lunch. I’ll stay until you finish your meal and we can talk a little before I leave for work. Your midday meal is in the other dishes, together with a plastic fork and spoon.”

“M-Master?” I asked, worried. “Will you leave me here alone all day in the cell? There will be no one else here in the house? What if I have an accident and fall? What if there is a fire?”

“Of course, you’ll be alone!” he smiled with evil amusement. “You’re perfectly safe and secure in there! No one can get into the house, and you will be able to sit and enjoy your dreams, now that some of them have come true.”

“But ... but, no one knows I’m in here!” I wailed in considerable terror, knowing I’d be utterly abandoned, locked fully into my harness, leashed to the wall inside this secret, sealed cell, and the house would be locked also!

“That’s right! You are completely my secret prisoner. Mine! And I can do with you as I please.”

I shut up and began to think worriedly about this whole new dimension that had suddenly become apparent. It was the classic case of the Law Of Unintended Consequences being hammered home. Until now, I’d always thought that he’d be somewhere nearby, but now, the full realization came that I’d be completely on my own, chained and helpless! He, in the meantime, had pried off the tops of two bowls, knowing it would be nearly impossible for me to do, then passed them through the bars. I grasped each dish with one hand and placed it awkwardly on the computer desk then he passed a soft plastic spoon to me.

“Eat!” he commanded quietly.

My hands automatically wanted to come together, but the bar between them stopped that attempt before it even began. He’d prepared cold cereal and unbuttered toast, but how was I going to be able to eat it?

“M-master? I-I can’t eat while I’m chained like this!” I wailed, struggling to get the spoon to my mouth.

“Certainly you can. You’ll just have to try harder.” He sat in the comfortable chair under the window, watching me struggle to feed myself.

I sat on the stool uncomfortable as it always is, and bent my head forward as much as the chains of my harness permitted, then raised the spoon to my metal-surrounded mouth. I could barely reach it and slurped at the cold mush, even though I wanted a hot meal. To eat the toast, I had to chop it up single handed with the spoon and feed myself that way also, but then, I wanted something to drink. He passed a large plastic cup of juice through the bars, this with a top and a long, bent straw sticking out. I took a sip and instantly disliked the astringent taste of unsweetened grapefruit that flooded my mouth.

“Please, Master?” I looked up at him. “Can I have some hot coffee?”

“No. While you are a prisoner, you are forbidden the consumption of all luxuries and stimulants. This means, caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, chocolate, and sugar are forbidden. You are here this time for punishment, and those prohibitions are part of your sentence.”

“Oh!” I whispered, a little shocked by just how thoroughly my imprisonment was to be enforced. Then I thought to gain relief from the horrid rubber mask that was sucked onto my facial skin and did so much to depersonalise me into only a female-shaped being. “Master? Please take off my face mask?”

“No!” he snapped, “That, too, is part of your punishment. You will wear it as and when I feel you should.”

“But it’s so awful!” I wailed with misery, “I’ll go crazy! I can’t even touch myself or make it more comfortable!” The prospect that I, Sabrina, would remain concealed beneath it as only an anonymous female rattled my mind and awareness deeply.

He came close to the bars and looked into my eyes.

“That too is a part of your imprisonment, convict, and it will be explained more fully while your sentence is served. For the moment, that will do. Your lunch is in those other bowls.” He handed them to me, taking back the ones I’d emptied. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I stood when he turned and left, again holding onto the bars with the forlorn hope that he would at least give me a kiss before leaving, but he walked through the door then slid it closed behind him. The bolts crashed into place then were securely locked. He hadn’t even kissed me! He’d just turned and walked away, leaving me chained! The steel shaft between my wrist cuffs banged into the bars of the lattice wall when I unthinkingly tried to reach through it, then I dropped my arms and let them hang limply, securely separated.

The silence of my cell was nearly absolute, broken only by the sounds of my chains and the ball rumbling on the floor behind me when I shuffled away from the barred wall. Not a sound penetrated into my dungeon from the outside and I knew, no matter how loudly I screamed, nothing would be heard by anyone beyond its thick concrete walls and ceiling. It was then that I thought I could begin to appreciate just how strong my imprisonment would be, but I was so terribly, terribly wrong!

I looked through the bars at the high, small window and saw only the grim, grey, cement wall of the small shaft outside, faintly lit from above. After a few moments of staring wistfully, I turned from the impenetrable lattice and struggled around the cell, attempting to get some form of exercise, but of course all of my efforts were strongly resisted by the Spanish Trapezoid and restricting drag of heavy ball. It was something that I’d eventually become accustomed to, but now, experiencing it for real and knowing I would not and could not be released, I feared for myself.

No matter how I tried, I could not bend my head against the rigidity of the thick, high collar encasing my throat, and the steel web of the head cage forced me to keep it held up. Certainly, it allowed me to open my mouth, but not all the way, and I shivered, feeling the unrelenting grip it held me in. Occasionally, I lifted my arms as high as the chains from my waist cinch to the wrist separator bar and those to my above-the-elbow cuffs permitted, but even that motion was extremely limited.

Fastened apart as they were, my hands were useless to try and employ together. Inside the material that thickly gloved my fingers, I clawed them to try and, somehow, ease my growing feelings of claustrophobia. Even looking down as best I could, I barely saw my hands and could only make out the top curves of the bright, steel cups clamped onto my chest, covering and imprisoning my breasts. Oh, how I wanted to touch and caress them! They throbbed and bounced, inflated with sensitising blood within their prisons, but I could do nothing to get at them! If I tried to bend forward to alleviate the sensations a little, my harness began to slowly choke me until I had to stand upright again.

At last, I shuffled slowly to the stool in front of the computer keyboard and sat. Immediately, I was forcibly reminded of the presence of my chastity belt when it hit the stool’s hard seat, and I groaned from the discomfort of the closely curved, wide steel band being pressed tighter into the aroused and heated flesh between my legs. My thighs shook and trembled, struggling instinctually to close together and somehow ease this posture, but their spreader bars could not be escaped. My bare buttocks slipped on the coolness of the seat, clenching together against the tight steel strap that forcibly divided them and another moan of discomfort hissed from my steel-cased throat while I contemplated my situation more deeply. My wordless sounds soon became those of frustrated arousal and a rolling shudder of sensation shook my whole body while I writhed frantically against the impersonal restraint of my guardian metal harness and restraints. Oh God! What a feeling of being bound!

Despite my terror at being left alone so thoroughly chained and imprisoned, this was what I had wanted! A short time later, no longer than two hours I’m sure, I stood again, unable to remain seated any longer because I had become so uncomfortable.