Date: Wed, 07 Jun 2006 07:10:06 -0500
From: ID Zervit <idzervit@lycos.com>
Subject: Permanent Bondage: 9. Rest

Countless days and nights went by.  I was no longer aware of time.
My only focus was on my bondage which was never-ending.
When the piss bucket hanging from my tender balls was full and
dripping onto the floor, splashing onto my legs, Master came
in, emptied it, and hung it there again to be refilled.  I don't
know how many times I filled the bucket - several.  Then, suddenly,
it was over.  The bucket was emptied and not replaced.  The impaler
was lowered and me with it.  I was pulled up off of it, my
legs, hands, head, and balls released from their prisons, and led
over to the corner wash basin.  The slight stubble that had
collected all over me was my only clue to time passed; around a
week I judged.  I don't know what in me encouraged me to try
to keep up with time.  Why?  There was no time for me in the
traditional sense.  This was obviously his plan, to obscure my
sense of time.  It was working.  But meanwhile I would hang on to
this only clue - the stubble of hair.  It was a simple thing, but
somehow I needed the connection with time reality.  Otherwise I
imagined that I would be insane.  And maybe I already was?  In
my former life I had been a stickler for keeping to the schedule.
I never missed a deadline in my 12 years as a journalist.  The
schedule was, I began to realize now, my former Master.  I had
simply exchanged one for the other.  The difference now was
that I had zero input.  I would be making no decisions.  Whereas
before I had focused on my creative output, I now was forced to
focus ONLY on my bondage.  The chain that pulled constantly at my
neck did that.  Hoods, ball rings, manacles, leg irons,
dildos, would all come and go, but that collar and chain was on me for good.

Master finished washing me and fed me as before, from a bowl on the
floor, with my hands chained behind me and holding onto
the dildo.  While I was eating he said something to me.  Mind you,
he had said VERY little, and I had said NOTHING since my
incarceration.

"After eating," he spoke gently, "You will have some down time, a
brief rest before you meet with the piercer."  That's all he said,
but the last word rang like a bell through my mind.  I almost
choked on the last few bites.  I was required to finish all of the
food, foul though it be.  PIERCER!  My mind was racing.  I
remembered now that early in our preliminary discussions he had
mentioned that I would receive some piercings that would be used
for bondage purposes.  In my early fantasies I had imagined
small chains crisscrossing my body, connecting my genitals to my
tits and such, but I hadn't thought about it since the collar
was installed.  The collar and the dildo had consumed all my
thinking.  Now I could only think of the needle.  As a teen ager I had ONE
piercing, my left nipple.  I always wanted piercings, but after one
I decided
that the pain and trouble were not worth it!  There was also the ordeal of
healing the piercing which took a couple of weeks.  At least, I
reasoned, that would be another measure of time for me to latch
onto.  Why was I trying so hard to keep a sense of time?  Was I
afraid of losing control?  Who was I kidding?  Control was ancient
history for me!  I was in control of NOTHING!  SOMEone was coming
SOMEtime to stick needles into me and I didn't know when,
or what would be pierced...there was that word again.  But I would
have my promised rest and some time to prepare my mind
for the inevitable.

Rest is a relative term.  At its root it means to cease movement.
My rest period would certainly fit this description!  Master
moved me over to the far back corner of the room which housed a
work table.  It was more elaborate than the one that had been
there when I first surveyed the room.  He ordered me to insert the
dildo which I did quickly.  I had had a little practice, and my
ass was getting used to the invasion.  He then buckled a harness
onto me which circled my waist, went over my shoulders and
around my chest.  It also had two straps which went down either
side of my genitals and connected in the rear so as to tighten
the dildo against me, effectively locking it into place.  After
tightening and buckling all the straps he covered my eyes with a
leather blindfold and ordered me onto the sturdy table.  He was
patient while I carefully felt my way.  I had noticed a small,
depression at one end which I assumed would cradle my head.
Thankfully the depression was lined with soft leather.  I lay my
hands beside me and stretched out my tired, sore legs.  The table
was basically the length of my body and covered with holes
which I assumed would be used to tie me down.  I was right!
Beginning at my head, he attached my collar to an eye bolt on the
table just beside my neck so that the chain wouldn't pull on me.
The chain and collar were heavy enough that extended
pressure could cause blood restriction and I was far from the
center of the room where the other end was attached.  He then
tied me down, all of me, using nylon rope.  He obviously had
considerable practice using rope and after a while I felt literally
encased in rope.  Even my fingers and toes were individually tied down to
the point that any movement on my part was impossible.  I
was also aware that my genitals and my nipples had been
conspicuously avoided in the binding process.  They were obviously
to become the objects of the piercing process.  Instructing me to keep
my eyes closed, he removed the blindfold and placed a
leather cage-like harness on my head.  It didn't cover my eyes or
my nose but included a rather thick mouth gag which
effectively prohibited me from making any sounds other than groans
or grunts.  Using D-rings attached to the head harness,
Master then immobilized my head, again using bits of rope to tie me
down to the table.

My eyes still closed, I sensed an increase in the intensity of the
overhead spotlight which shined down on me.  I was given
permission to open my eyes to an awesome sight.  The light was
aimed at the center of my body away from my eyes and I could
see VERY clearly in an overhead mirror the length of my bound body.
This would be my so-called rest, bound immovably and
staring at my nipples and genitals, wondering just where the
piercer's needles would be placed.  How many piercings would I
get?  What sort of devious bondage did he mean?  Would my nipples
and genitals now suffer the same fate as my pitiful neck?
Would they too, be attached permanently to a wall, the ceiling, the
floor?  I could only wonder and wait.  He left the bright light
on, left the dungeon, locking the door as he did.  Why would he
need to lock the door, I thought?  I'm not going anywhere!  It
was briefly a funny thought, but the reality of my situation
quickly brought me back to the fear and dread which, I am sure,
were a crucial part of Master's plans.  I knew from my one experience
with the needle, that the apprehension of waiting for it was
worse than the actual brief pain.  But I couldn't imagine that
Master has planned only 1 or 2 piercings.  I was sure that I could
plan on numerous encounters with the needle.  I could only guess at
how many and where they would be.

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