Date: Wed, 03 May 2006 06:37:19 -0500
From: ID Zervit <idzervit@lycos.com>
Subject: Permanent Bondage: 2. The Second Encounter

PERMANENT BONDAGE:  2. THE SECOND ENCOUNTER

His attitude toward my bondage was simple -  once in, never out.
We were both serious about this.  For years I had
fantasized endlessly about that click of the lock that would
permanently "bind" me to my Master's dungeon floor or wall.  I
even fantasized the collar or cuffs being welded or riveted into
place.  The bondage we were considering was permanent and
we must both be very sure of our commitment.  And so, during our
second encounter, although I was required to strip before
entering the dungeon, there was no physical contact between us.

The dungeon was in his basement.  Simple wooden stairs
led down from his kitchen.  I followed him as directed.  We reached
the bottom stair and stepped onto a concrete floor.  The
basement was typical looking, long and narrow, a laundry area off
to one side, numerous shelving units containing household
supplies, tools,  At the other end of the lengthy, rectangular room
there was a large padlocked wooden door.  Master stood to
one side and had me stand and face the door.  To this point he had
not spoken.  "This side of the dungeon door," he spoke
softly and slowly, "is something that you will only see twice!"  I
was engrossed in the massiveness of the door, the iron
hinges, the solidity of it, and it took a moment for his words to
register.  I would see the door again for the last time on my
third visit, at my incarceration.What lay behind the door would
become my world, my existence.  Beside the door was a small
table where I was instructed to leave my clothes.  Master Rick
stood patiently and watched as I removed my shirt, trousers,
underwear, shoes and socks, and placed them neatly on the table.

The floor was cold to my bare feet.  My nakedness made
the door seem larger.  A simple cloth hood was placed over my head
but left loose around my neck.  I heard him unlock the
door.  He took my arm and led me in.  I was instructed to take 5
short steps, then stand still.  There was faint light coming
from somewhere.  Looking down, I could just barely see my toes from
under the hood. The air was warmer inside the
dungeon, the same concrete floor not as cold.  I was then
instructed to sit on the floor.  I sat cross-legged, my hands
carefully placed on my knees, listening.  The door closed behind me
and I didn't know if Master was in the room with me or
not.  I looked down at my dimly lit cock, which had been steadily
achieving erection since I had walked through the wooden
door.  I knew instinctively not to touch.  Master had made it clear
in our first session that total control of my genitals, their
pain, their pleasure, and all their functions, would be an
essential component of my slavery!  I wasn't cold, but I shivered
gently anyway from the solemnity of the moment!  I lost track of
time as one does in such situations.  I tried to connect with
smells and sounds as these were temporarily my only inputs.  Other
than the faint scent of leather, the air smelled clean.  I
became aware of some type of ventilation system gently and quietly
circulating air - no other discernible smells - no other
sounds - and only a very faint light evenly distributed around me.

The door opened and Master reentered - he HAD left me alone.  He
walked slowly toward me, stopping beside me.  He
removed the hood from my head and I saw for the first time my
surroundings.  I began to turn my head when Master said
curtly, "Look straight ahead."  The back wall of the room was
literally covered with every type of implement of bondage,
restraint, and correction that one could imagine, all hanging from
carefully placed hooks and arranged neatly.  Soft spot light
aimed downward cast a gentle but eerie light on the collection.
There were the expected metal and leather restraint cuffs,
handcuffs, leg-irons, metal and leather collars, spreader bars -
several lengths - and one that looked adjustable; there was a
shelf of dildos, some of metal, some of plastic, and a formidable
one that looked like a policeman's night stick, I assumed
made of wood.  There were leather harnesses and straps lined up
neatly, cleaned and polished to a fine shine.  There were a
group of shelves that held plastic storage boxes, the contents of
which I could not discern.  Master pushed me gently toward
them the better to see.  They contained an unbelievable collection
of small clamps, connectors, locks, bits of chain and other
assorted bondage paraphernalia - some I recognized - others I could
only guess at their use.

Master turned me around as he touched a switch on the wall.  The
rest of the room became slowly flooded with gentle down
light which came from recessed fixtures around the circumference of
the otherwise dark ceiling.  "I will leave you for a while
now," he said.  "You may walk around, you may look, but you may not
touch anything," he added, and quickly left, closing
and locking the door.