Date: Mon, 15 May 2006 08:18:34 -0500
From: ID Zervit <idzervit@lycos.com>
Subject: Permanent Bondage: 6. The Satchel And The Bucket

A note to readers:  Thank you ALL for your comments.  I REALLY
enjoy hearing from you!  Your comments are most welcome!  Rob
***************************************

PERMANENT BONDAGE: 6. THE SATCHEL AND THE BUCKET

He shaved my head, and then continued down my body, carefully
removing all hair, down to my toes.  It was
an unbelievable sensation to have someone else handling and
touching EVERY inch of me.  I had been shaved
before in scenes, but nothing like this.  He was meticulous.  The
overhead chain was connected through a
mechanism that could be adjusted by pulling either of two chains
hanging against the wall.  Like venetian
blinds, he pulled me up or let me down, turned me around, had me
kneel, and adjusted me as necessary to
accommodate his careful work.  When he had finished shaving me all
over, he stretched me up tall, standing
on my tiptoes, and stood back to admire his work.  I turned around
several times, balancing on my toes.  He
was viewing his handiwork, and surveying his new property.

He lowered my hands to about chest height and turned me around,
instructing me to lean against the wall
and to spread my legs apart as wide as I could.  Sitting on a stool
behind me, he inserted an enema nozzle
into my ass.  From an overhead bag he filled me up several times,
stretching my gut like it had never been
stretched, forcing me to hold it, then having me squat and release.
       This continued until I ran clear.  I had
never been so clean inside!  Satisfied that I was clean, he
stretched me upward again.  He then washed
me all over with soap, rinsed me and left me hanging there to dry
while he busied himself in the back of the
room.  I couldn't see what he was doing, but the tinkling of chain
and the rustling of leather and rope kept
me hard with anticipation.  My hands tired quickly - my wrists were
hurting, but blood was still flowing and I
welcomed the slight discomfort as symbolic of my captivity.

When I was dry he lowered my hands and released them from the
cuffs.  I was naked and unbound in my
Master's dungeon, but not for long.  He re-cuffed my hands behind
my back and, while I was still turned
around, he took what looked like a caulking gun and, inserting the
tip into my ass, filled me up with
lubricant.  It oozed out as he turned me around to face him,
feeling squishy between my cheeks.  He then
retrieved a small leather device from his pocket, a harness, which
fit snugly around my balls, forcing them
down into their sack, and separating them with a tight leather
strap.  My cock was left free.  It had been hard
since I walked through the door.  Master made no effort to control
it.  I wondered what would happen to my
cock.  Would he tie it up too?  Would he contain it in an
anti-erection device?  Would he punish it for being
hard?  It longed for release...to be touched, but he ignored it!

He walked across the room and adjusted the lighting so that the
middle of the room was flooded, the
periphery dark.  He directed me out of the wash basin and
instructed me to lie on the floor with my head near
a small black heavy-looking, drum-shaped metal object.  A huge
metal mallet lay near it.  He position me
with the metal object behind me and close to my neck, and pulled
the satchel over toward my face.  I shivered
uncontrollably as he removed a heavy iron slave collar slowly from
the satchel.  He put it down on the floor at
my nose and stood back briefly, allowing me to savor the collar.
"Look at it carefully," he instructed.  "You
will never see it again!"  As I stared at it and trembled slightly,
the sinisterness of what he had just said bore
down heavily upon me!  I would not see it, but I would feel it,
ever-present, around my slave neck!

The collar was made from curved, solid metal bands, about two
inches wide, and at least a quarter of an inch
thick.  It was hinged, and met on the opposite side with tabs that
contained  holes through which a lock could be
placed.  On the hinged side there was a permanently attached length
of heavy chain.  The rest of the chain
remained inside the satchel.  Around the collar, equally spaced,
there were four iron D-rings to which
other chains, locks, ropes, etc. could be attached.  It would be
heavy, but I would bear it.  I would have no
choice.  It would further bind me to him, a thought I relished.

He lifted the collar and moved it towards my neck, pulling more of
the attached chain from the satchel.  I
followed his hands with my eyes.  The chain jingled.  The D-rings
jingled.  I lifted my head slightly as he
unceremoniously placed the collar around my neck.  It was cold, and
immediately very heavy.  It clanked
slightly as he closed it and touched the tabs together behind me.
He was fumbling with something behind
me that I assumed was a huge lock.  It was not until he picked up
the mallet and began to bang away at the
small anvil behind me that I realized it wouldn't be a lock, but a
metal rivet that would keep the collar in
place.  My balls strained in their leather bondage, my hard dick
bounced freely as I startled and shuddered
from the loud noise.  My hands pulled at the cuffs behind my back.
He had said "permanent",
but little did I know just how permanent he meant!

He helped me to stand, and as I stood up the gravity of my new
PERMANENT collar hit me.  It would take
much getting used to.  I would never forget that I was wearing it.
It bore down on my shoulders, still cold.  It
would eventually warm up to by body temperature, but it would never
become lighter.  The attached chain
extended from the satchel as I rose, adding to the weight of the collar.

Master directed me over to the wash basin, and followed me carrying
the satchel.  He put the satchel down
beside the plastic bucket and had me turn around.  Sitting on a
stool as before and spreading my legs apart,
he removed the leather bondage from my balls and replaced it with a
locking metal ball cuff attached to a
small length of chain.  He then removed the handcuffs and directed
me to remove the lid from the bucket.  It
was about half filled with a white powdery substance.  Master
sprayed some water into the bucket, gave me a
stick and instructed me to stir the mixture.  When the water was
completely incorporated, he directed me to
pick up the bucket and the satchel.  I followed him to the center
of the room, placing them beside a small
square of cardboard on the floor.  Master
pushed the cardboard aside, revealing a round
hole cut into the floor.  Either the hole had not been there
before, or it had been carefully concealed.  In
either event I had not noticed it.  It was about eight inches in
diameter and approximately twelve inches deep.
My knees buckled under my load as I mentally pieced together his plan.

Master took the chain attached to my collar and pulled it from the
satchel.  At the other end of what seemed
to be about a fifteen feet chain, there was a small, iron anchor.
The anchor was roughly the size of the hole.
His intentions were clear.  He placed the anchor into the hole and
instructed me to pour the liquid cement in
to cover it.  I poured, shaking as I did.  I stood and watched as
he smoothed the cement, removing the excess
with a trowel.  He placed a small metal frame over the hole which
would hold the attached chain up off of the cement
until it dryed, and directed me to follow him.  I did, swinging the
short chain from my balls, and dragging the
long length of chain from my neck.  We walked over to the corner
which held the cage.  I was obviously going
to spend some time in the cage, a thought which sent pulses
throught my throbbing dick.  How much more
adrenilized could I become???

(next episode: THE CAGE!)

Enjoy, and please let me know if you do...
idzervit@lycos.com