Evening in the attic

I climbed the attic ladder and knelt in my assigned corner. That she’d placed a small blanket for me to kneel on gave me pause. She only did that when I would be on one position for a comparatively long time.

The attic was pitch black except for a small red light that glowed from the ceiling, a wireless camera.

Her voice came from the house intercom, “Lock your ball cage to the ring in the floor.”

Feeling about I found a bit of short metal chain next to me. When the little lock clicked into place I bowed my head to show that I’d obeyed and hand rendered myself unable to rise from my knees.

“Now, slave, lock your arms behind your balls.”

I looped another chain behind the first and closed two little locks. Now I could move my hands only a few inches forward. Again I bowed my head.

“Now I have you out of my way but still under my eye.”

The intercom fell silent and I sat there in the dark wondering. There are times when her dominant side is ascendant but she’s too tired or distracted to want to work me over. On those occasions she would often seek to expand my tolerance for bondage. That my restraints left me some freedom of movement suddenly seemed an ominous sign. It meant I wasn’t in danger of becoming too cramped or straining a joint. I could be left alone in the dark for a very long time.

And she knew me too well. She knew I’d speculate about it and, given my nature, assume the worst. Several variations of worst. It was the kind of refined mental torture only an Owner who knew her slave well could practice.

She could sit downstairs watching me fidget, enjoying the various expressions that crossed my face.

It doesn’t take long for your sense of time to become confused when you are alone. I relaxed as I heard her ascending footsteps.

“Would you like to come down and worship my shoes?”

My “Yes, Mistress” was emphatic. That she was going to let me be near her made me happy.

Then I saw her hands reach to a shelf pull something down that I realized was a very strict posture collar as it went around my neck. My head was locked into place pointing directly at the camera.

She followed this with a special pair of nipple clamps with a chain that fastened to the ball cage. If I started to fidget the chain would pull on my nipples. As they did when she gave my hair a yank.

“Now you sit there and be still” - as if I had much choice - “and if you’re lucky I’ll remember you are up here.”

Bait and switch! No matter how often she did that I was never prepared. Serenely, haughtily she smiled down at my increased misery.

She left me amid the blackness wondering how long before she’d come back to release me.