January 10, 2001
To My Diary
Over Christmas Vacation I had the surprise of my life and it started the adventure of my life. Not much different happened between November and Christmas Vacation. My aunt tied me up probably half a dozen times, usually leaving me in a diaper if she kept me bound over night. I enjoyed it, but it was getting to be routine. She would leave me tied to my bed, bound, gagged, hog-tied, and she would come in during the morning and untie me.
Julie, my girl friend, came over a couple of times and tied me up too, but again nothing special. We sat and watched television with me tied up sitting next to her. When nobody else was around, she fondled me, but the chastity device kept her from doing too much, and it was painful when I started getting an erection. I didn’t like that very much, and wished I could get out of that thing.
On Christmas Day, I was back home with my parents, and my mother said that she had a special surprise for me. The Petersons, who are good friends of my aunt and Derek, and Julie’s parents, were going some kind of a retreat in Mexico, and they had asked me to go along. My step-mother and father said it was okay with them. Dad laughed, reminding me of the chastity device (http://www.cb-2000.com) they had locked on me meant that no harm could come from my being with Julie wherever they took me. Ruth said she knew what I needed to pack, and she would fix my suitcase, so I didn’t pay much attention.
On the day after Christmas the Petersons drove to our home, picked me up early in the morning and we went to the airport, boarded the plane, and flew to Mexico. There Mr. Peterson had rented a car, and we drove for about five hours, to a location near the coast. When we got to the compound, we had to go through a guarded gate. Mr. Peterson handed one man some papers while three guards, two of them women, watched us.
Finally, one of the women looked into the car and asked, “Do you two men agree to follow all of the rules and regulations during the retreat?”
“We will both comply fully,” said Mr. Peterson.
She looked at me. “You too?”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
Julie and her mother smiled at me and we drove through the gate. One of the men had said that our assigned cabin was to the left about two hundred yards, and that the lodge was on about another half mile. We drove to the cabin not seeing any other people anywhere around. We took our suitcases inside.
“This will be your room Julie and Sam,” said Mrs. Peterson. “Julie, you might want to take him in, unpack and get him ready.”
I followed Julie into our room, and she shut the door wondering what ‘get him ready’ might mean. I was startled that there was only one large bed. That meant that I would be sleeping with Julie!!! I put my suitcase on the bed, and slowly opened it. I was really shocked when I discovered that in addition to one pair of pants, a pair of sandals, a shirt, my red speedo, two jockstraps, some underwear, my toothbrush and razor and comb, it contained my straitjacket, rope, tape, and my two gags. And there were two things I didn’t recognize as mine – two little thong swimsuits.
“My mother made a mistake,” I said to Julie. “Look what she packed.”
“No mistake,” Julie smiled. “And please take off everything you’re wearing now and put on your red speedo. We need to get you ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked.
“Please just do what I ask and you’ll find out. It’s sort of a surprise.”
Our room had its own bathroom, so I took the speedo and went inside, closed the door, and stripped, putting on the little swim suit. The chastity device really showed through the tight red lycra.
Back in the room I put my clothes in a closet and said, “Why do you want me in this? Is there a swimming pool nearby.”
“Here,” said Julie, “Slip on the straitjacket.”
“Here, now?” I asked. “I don’t think so.”
“Sam,” Julie sounded firm, “We don’t have all day, now please cooperate and you’ll find out why shortly. It’s important that you do what I say or you’ll ruin everything.”
I didn’t see how my putting on or not putting on the straitjacket would ruin anything, but I let her slip the jacket on and start buckling the straps in the back, then cinched in my arms, and straps between my legs.
“Now, are you happy?” I asked.
“Almost,” she said. “Open wide.”
“Not the gag too!” I almost shouted.
“I’m afraid so,” she said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Open Sam,” and she pushed the plug of the leather gag toward my mouth.
So I opened up, wondering what this was all about. She pushed in the gag, buckled it tightly behind my head, and then stepped back and looked at me. We hadn’t been at the retreat half an hour and I was bound and gagged. That was sure a surprise. I hadn’t expected to be tied up at all on this trip.
“Now, just sit and be quiet while I get ready,” Julie said.
I sat on the bed while she changed clothes, putting on very short shorts (the weather outside was warm and humid), a small swim suit top, and sandals. Then she went to my suitcase, got my sandals, and while I sat on the bed, she put them on my feet. She went into the bathroom for a while, combed her hair, used the toilet (I guessed from the sounds I heard), and finally came out.
“We can join Mom and Dad now,” Julie said. She opened the door and followed her even though I was reluctant to let the Petersons know Julie had tied me up. But then again they had seen me tied before, so we walked out into the main living room of the cabin.
There I got what was probably the biggest shock so far. Mrs. Peterson sat quietly on a davenport reading a magazine. Mr. Peterson stood on one side of the room. His hands were tied at the wrists and the rope held his hands high up over his head as it was attached to a hook in the ceiling. He was naked. He wore a gag a bit larger than mine with a padlock on it which would keep it from being opened or removed.
I must have made a sound in my gag, and both Julie and her mother laughed.
“I had better explain, Sam,” Mrs. Peterson began looking up at me. “You see, Rick (that’s Mr. Peterson) is my slave. We have a contract, signed over a year before we were married. I can do anything to him I want, any time. He serves me, cooks, cleans up, does errands, he does whatever I tell him. Anytime he makes a mistake, I punish him. Oh, he’s not being punished now. He’s just resting from the trip.”
I looked over toward Mr. Peterson who looked back at me and nodded his head in agreement.
“My father’s been a slave ever since I can remember,” said Julie. “When I was little I used to like to snuggle up between Mom and Dad in their bed. Mom would read me stories or talk to me. Dad would lie there tied up and gagged.
Mother always told me that if I was lucky, I would have a slave of my own when I grow up.”
“That’s where you come in, Sam,” said Mrs. Peterson. “I was delighted that day at your uncle and aunt’s when Rick and I found you all tied up in that chair by their swimming pool. I knew then that you were the right boy for Julie.”
“I’ve really liked tying you up, Sam,” smiled Julie. “You’re my dream come true.”
“Anyway, I belong to a club of women who have slaves. Our name is Women With Bondage Slaves, or WWBS for short. Our men aren’t only slaves, they are slaves who we often tie up in some way – most of the men, like yourself, actually like it. We meet here once a year at this retreat. It’s a great place where we have privacy. The place is used by many nudist groups, bondage clubs, transvestites, gay groups, and any other groups that needs security and privacy. We’ve been coming here for about six years. Julie has never been here as you can’t come unless you have a slave with you. That’s one of the rules.”
Julie interrupted, “Now I can come and learn how to be a dominatrix like Mom!”
“She’ll be a good dominatrix too,” Mrs. Peterson added. “I’m going to train her and we’ll start during this week. Anyway, having a slave is only one of the rules. Do you remember agreeing to obey the rules when we came into the retreat grounds, Sam?”
I nodded that I did.
“Good. Now I should tell you the rules you’ve agreed to. While here, you can never appear in public without being tied or restrained in some way and gagged. Any time we have visitors here in our cabin – and visitors can drop in at any time – all slaves must be strictly tied and gagged. Slaves do all the work. You will be assigned tasks in the morning and at meals. You and Rick will probably work together and at those times you will wear slave chains so that you can use your hands. You will do whatever Julie or I – or any other woman for that matter – tell you to do. You can wear nothing more than that swim suit you have on now. If you use the swimming pool, you can wear only one of the thongs, and at meals and work sessions, you can wear only your jockstrap and slave chains and of course, your gag. At night you can sleep with Julie if she wishes but you will be strictly bound and gagged – every night!. In other words, Sam, you will realize one of your fantasies that you told Julie about. You will spend the entire nine days here tied up in some way almost all of the time.”
Julie sat next to me, and gave me a big hug.
“Julie,” her mother instructed, “the committee members might arrive any time, so you better hang Sam next to your father. We don’t want them to find us unprepared.”
As Julie had me stand, she moved me over to the wall next to where her father still hung, his arms up over his head. She fixed a rope to one of the straps on the back of my straitjacket, stood on a stool, and fixed it to the second hook in the ceiling. I now had no choice but to stand next to Mr. Peterson for as long as they wanted to leave me there.
Mrs. Peterson sat quietly reading over some papers, and then looked up at me.
“Sam, you will be assigned tasks while you are here, and remember, if any woman tells you to do something, you must obey immediately. There is one little problem, and that is that you aren’t now really a committed slave with a permanent contract. Since you’ll always be gagged, you won’t be able to tell that to anyone, but technically all of the men here should be signed and sealed slaves. Julie wanted to come so badly, we hoped you would cooperate.”
I nodded that I would. I didn’t know what was coming, but it was certainly my fantasy come true.
Julie watched television while her mother worked on the papers. Then someone knocked on the door. Mrs. Peterson got up and let in four people, two women and two men. The women looked like nice ladies, smartly dressed, about the same age as Mrs. Peterson. They hugged and greeted each other, and Mrs.
Peterson introduced the women to Julie. The men just stood there, not able to do much else. One was in a straitjacket like I was, with a red ball gag in his mouth, wearing a black speedo. The other was strapped into a series of leather harnesses that restricted all movement. His head was also strapped into a harness which held a gag in place. He was wearing a jockstrap. The women led the men into the room, moved them over next to the wall where Mr. Peterson and I stood, and they attached the men to hooks in the ceiling. While the four of us stood there, the women went into the kitchen and sat around a table talking quietly.
After about an hour, the women returned to the living room where I heard one say, “Well, Angela (Julie’s mother), I think the planning has gone rather well. It should be a successful week. Now we have to change the men into their slave chains and get them to their jobs. See you at dinner.”
The women unhooked the two men, and after saying good-bye they left.
Mrs. Peterson unhooked Mr. Peterson and Julie unhooked me, and Mrs. Peterson said they needed to hurry to get Mr. Peterson (Rick) and me to our work duty for dinner. Julie took me into our room, and removed the straitjacket. She left the gag, then put a chain around my waist securing it with a small lock.
The waist chain had two loose chains leading off from the center. Julie brought out two leather padded wrist cuffs, and secured them around my wrists, then with small locks, locked one loose chain to each cuff securing the chain to the cuff and the cuff in place.
“These are your slave chains,” she explained. “Now you can use your hands to work or to feed yourself or go to the bathroom, but can’t reach the gag to release it.”
Julie then handed me a jockstrap, and told me to remove the speedo, put on the jock, and get ready to go to work detail. I followed orders quickly. Then we went back to the living room where Mr. Peterson was also in slave chains and a jockstrap. Mrs. Peterson and Julie led us out to the car, and she drove us down the road to the lodge. Inside, Julie and Mrs. Peterson led us to the kitchen where there were many men working, all gagged (in anything from simple ball gags to ornate harness gags), in slave chains, and jockstraps. Two women in cooks’ uniforms were giving orders. Rick Peterson and I were immediately ordered to set the tables in the dining room. It was a beautiful room, all in natural wood with tables set around. We put out table cloths, utensils, water glasses, cloth napkins, and other things like salt and pepper shakers, wine glasses and so forth.
I was then assigned to peel potatoes while Mr. Peterson began setting up the buffet line. We worked hard doing whatever the two women told us to do. We worked for a couple of hours.
At about six-thirty, women, dressed very nicely in almost formal clothes, began to arrive. The slave-men were directed to get them drinks from the bar – whatever they requested. Some carried around trays of hors d’oeuvres, others glasses of wine or water.
When the meal started, the club president announced that the women should be seated. Each slave went to his mistress and stood behind her, then we went to the buffet table and fixed salad plates and took them to our mistresses. I stood behind Julie as she ate – she looked beautiful in her bright blue dress.
When she needed water, I got her more. After the salad, the women (who had looked over the buffet line earlier) told their slaves what they wished, and each slave fixed a dinner plate for his mistress. If they wanted more, we got it. Then came dessert, and whatever else each woman wanted. Finally, coffee.
As the women drank their coffee or tea, they removed the gags from their slaves. We then moved to the buffet line, fixed a plate, and went to the side of the room and sat on the floor, eating with our hands/fingers. As soon as we were done, we returned to our mistresses who replaced our gags. It was then our task to bus the dishes to the kitchen, wash the dishes. Some men collected the linen and took the napkins and table cloths down a hallway to a laundry where they were washed. As the women socialized, we worked cleaning up the pots, pans, dishes, the dining room, and sweep the floor, always directed by the two women in the cooks uniforms.
When we were done, we were directed to stand along the side wall of the lodge hall while the women talked, socialized. It was almost midnight before women began taking their slave/husbands and heading for their cabins. Julie, Mrs.
Peterson, Mr. Peterson and I got to our cabin about 12:30. Julie told me to go to the bathroom. She took off my gag and let me have a drink of water. Then she re-gagged me, removed my slave chains, put me in my straitjacket but leaving me in my jockstrap, and we walked out in to the living room. Mrs.
Peterson was sitting on the davenport reading something. Mr. Peterson was bound, gagged, and hog-tied on the floor in front of her – she was using him as a foot-stool.
“We’re going to bed now,” said Julie. “I’m tired.”
“Sleep well, both of you,” her mother smiled. “Be sure and get him bound up tight for the night,” she said to Julie.
“Don’t worry, mother, he won’t be able to move much when I’m done.”
Julie and I went back into our bedroom where she brought out rope and bound my legs. She put wraps of duct-tape over my gag saying that she wanted to be sure that I was quiet all night. She had me lay on the bed, and then tied my legs in a very strict hog-tie. Then she blind-folded me with more tape. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to like nine days of this, but it was far too late to do much about it at this point.
I lay on the bed listening to Julie move around the room. Finally she got into bed with me, I heard her turn off the lights, and she snuggled up next to me, her hand caressing my bound body, touching my face, and finally resting on my jockstrap pouch where she fingered the chastity device through the stretched fabric. She drifted off to sleep. I slept off and on, wondering what the next day would bring.
January 10, 2001
On my second day with the Petersons, Julie woke me up early in the morning – it was only six-thirty and I was still bound and gagged. She released me, leaving me in my jockstrap, and told me to go to the bathroom, take a shower and get ready and do it quickly. I brushed my teeth, showered, and back in my jock, returned to the bedroom. Julie took me into the kitchen where Mr.
Peterson, also in a jockstrap, was fixing breakfast while Mrs. Peterson sat at the table.
“Help Dad fix breakfast,” Julie ordered.
Mr. Peterson told me what to do, and soon we had ham, eggs, and pancakes on the table for the two women. We stood and ate while they sat and ate at the table.
“Sam,” said Mrs. Peterson seriously, “Sit down. We need talk.”
I sat between her and Julie while Mr. Peterson stood and tended to the dishes, washing, cleaning up the kitchen.
“Sam, first of all, in the morning like this, if we wish, we can let our slaves be unbound, and have a sort-of family hour where we can talk, if we need to. Now, are you okay with being Julie’s slave? We more or less got you into this without you really knowing what was going on. If you don’t like what’s happening, now you can say so, and we’ll send you home without any problem.”
“I’m really happy,” I said somewhat unsure just how happy I really was.
“Are you uncomfortable or unhappy when Julie ties you up and keeps you tied?”
“No,” I insisted. “She’s tied me up tighter and for longer – like that time she left me tied to the chair in our basement.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Peterson laughed. “I told her to do that. It was your test.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It was a test to see if you really liked being tied up – if you can take it, so to speak. You passed the test, so we decided to invite you to the resort with us,” Julie said. “I was so excited. At last I might have a slave and then I can come here with Mom and Dad. Sam, you were wonderful,” and she leaned over and gave me a big kiss right on my mouth. I liked that a lot. And was I ever glad that I lied and told Julie how much I liked it when she tied me up so tight and over-night down my parents’ basement. If I had told the truth, I wouldn’t have been invited on the retreat!
“Sam, this is your last chance to get out of this,” said Mrs. Peterson. “You might not be able to say much more for the remainder of our time here, and even if you do, we will probably ignore it.”
“I want to stay,” I said. I was really hesitant, but I tried to sound eager and said, “I really do.”
“Okay,” said Mrs. Peterson. “Now, about today. You and are Rick are assigned to swimming pool duty. Julie will pick out a thong for you to wear, and then the two of you will head for the pool. From eight until nine slaves can swim in the pool, unbound and ungagged. I will drive you there, but usually you’ll walk. As soon as the hour is over, you two will put each other in your slave chains and gags, and you will report into the lodge for training of some sort – something you need to know to do pool duty I assume. The rest of the day you two work around the pool doing whatever any woman asks you to do. You get half an hour for lunch, and you will walk home here and change into your jocks for dinner, and walk back to help in the kitchen and serve dinner. Do you understand?
I agreed, and then Julie took me into the bedroom.
“Put this thong on,” Julie ordered.
I looked at it – it was almost a string-thong – and the little pouch was a gauze-like black stretchy material.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “What about one of the two thongs my mother packed?”
“Sam,” said Julie in a tone of voice I hadn’t heard before – “Don’t be disobedient. Put the thong on right now.”
“But people can see right through it,” I said. “It’s almost nothing.”
“Sam,” said Julie, “This is your last warning. Put on this thong.”
As she said it, she picked up my red ball gag, and moved toward me, ordered me to open up, and shoved in the ball and fastened it behind my neck. I stripped off the jock and pulled on the thong which was even worse than I thought -the pouch barely covered me and the chastity device clearly showed through the very thin material which was stretched to the limit.
“You look great,” Julie gushed.
Mrs. Peterson looked into the room. “Was Sam being disobedient?” she asked.
“Yes, a little,” Julie admitted, “But I gagged him before he went too far and how he’s obeying.”
“Be careful, Sam,” Mrs. Peterson cautioned. “There is punishment for being disobedient!”
I made a noise in the gag, and kind of tried to say “What punishment?”
Apparently understanding what I wanted to know she said, “The punishment for disobedience is severe and you don’t want to experience it, believe me.”
Mrs. Peterson drove Mr. Peterson and me to the swimming pool at the lodge, and there Julie took off my gag, and put the gag and my slave chains along with Mrs. Peterson’s gag and slave chains in a cloth bag for us to use later. I got involved in a volleyball game and Mr. Peterson swam laps. Then we dried off, put on each other’s chains, locked them in place, and put on each other’s gags. Then we joined six other men in the lodge where two women who work at the lodge gave us lessons on how to administer a massage to any woman who might want one. They showed us how to apply sun tan lotions and sun screens.
They showed us the bar where we would get drinks if asked, where the pool equipment like inner tubes and such were kept, and then they took us back out to the pool.
Women had started gathering around the pool already. I was surprised when I noted right away that they wore only string-bikini bottoms – actually, only little triangles of cloth held on with strings. No tops. I wondered when Julie would show up. I spent the day getting iced-tea, ice water, and soft drinks for women when asked. The time went fast actually, and during our allotted half hour, Mr. Peterson and I had lunch. I could use the rest room any time I needed.
At around four thirty Mr. Peterson and I walked back to our cabin – I felt really strange walking outside dressed only in the tiny thong but nobody paid much attention. We changed into our jockstraps, and still wearing our slave chains and gags we walked back to the lodge where they put us to work in the kitchen. Then we served dinner to our mistresses, then sat on the floor, removed each other’s gags and ate, and then, regagged, we cleaned up as we had the night before.
After dinner, they showed a film in the lodge room – a movie titled “Exit to Eden,” which featured a tropical island where there were men and women slaves.
It was not a bad flick.
After the film, and social time, we drove back to our cabin. Right away Mrs.
Peterson had Mr. Peterson sit in a chair where she tied him very tightly and reinforced his gag with what she said was a muzzle. Julie tied me too, but sitting next to her on the davenport. Mr. Peterson was still sitting there when Julie and I went to bed with me again in my straitjacket, jock, hog-tied and this time blindfolded.
The next day was an exact duplicate of the second day except for one big thing. We were given lessons on how to help women in and out of the pool, and how to move them about on flotation devices. Just after the lesson, all of the slaves were brought together in the main lodge room. Many of the mistresses were there too. While the slaves stood and watched, the President of the club announced that one of the slaves had been reported as disobedient. She walked over to a man and led him to the center of the room.
“How do you answer the charge, slave,” she shouted, “Guilty or innocent?”
The slave gave a grunt in his gag, and the President said, “Guilty as I suspected.”
The slave shook his head no, but the President went on, “So, you are still defiant. You will do twelve hours in the cage.”
A little ripple of comments came from the mistresses who were watching. The President ordered four slaves to bind the man. They laid him down on the floor, and tied his legs in four places. They trussed up his arms, using lots of rope. Then they hog-tied him. They brought his knees up around to his chest stretching the hog-tie rope, and then they bound his legs so he couldn’t stretch out again. They reinforced his gag with many wraps of duct-tape, and they also reinforced the ropes with duct-tape. Two other men brought in a cage like one they use to transport dogs. Together and with some difficulty, the six slaves moved the bound man into the cage – he just barely fit, and they had trouble closing the door, which they locked with a large padlock. The slave in the cage looked really cramped and unhappy. He could hardly squirm. I was amazed that they would keep him there for twelve hours!
“All right, slaves,” said the President. “Let this be a lesson to all of you.
Disobedience is not tolerated and is punished. Now, get to your work stations.”
Some of the men went into the kitchen, others out to do yard work or deal with garbage and wash windows. Rick Peterson and I went to the pool where we again served the women who came to swim and sun bathe and play. The rest of the day passed without problems.
After dinner and the social hour, just before we headed back to our cabin, they released the slave from the cage, but his mistress ordered that he not be untied, and they carried him to her car, and she drove off with him still bound, gagged and hog-tied.
After we watched television for a while (with Mr. Peterson again with his wrists tied, naked, and hanging from a hook in the ceiling), and Julie left me with just my hands tied, my gag, and my jock.
In our bedroom, she hog-tied me with rope, and tied me so that I had to stay on my side of the bed. Then she went to sleep laying on her side facing me with one hand on my shoulder, and the other on the pouch of the jock. I wondered what the next day would bring.
January 10 , 2001
To My Diary
My fourth day at the resort with the Petersons started with Julie releasing me from my ropes that held me to the bed, taking off my straitjacket, putting on my slave-chains, and telling me to fix her bath, help her dress, and fix her breakfast. Rick was apparently doing the same for his wife. At the breakfast table, we all sat together, unbound, no gag, chatting about events. Mrs.
Peterson said that Rick would be at the pool again, but that I had been reassigned to the kitchen to help prepare meals.
Mr. Peterson in his swim thong and me in my jock, slave chains, and both of us in our gags, walked to the lodge in the warm sunshine. He headed for the pool, I moved into the kitchen. There the woman who supervised called all of the slaves together and announced that she had too many helpers. She needed only three, and she had seven. She selected the three she needed, and ordered them to take the four of us who were extra into the storage room and use the rope and tape there to tie us up in chairs. It took the three helpers about twenty minutes and the four of us were all bound and gagged sitting looking at each other in the darkened storage room. And there we sat until the three of the other helpers released us so we could serve our mistresses at lunch.
When lunch was over, it was back to the storage room and tied up again until dinner. I rather enjoyed the day off from the swimming pool which was a problem with all of the nearly nude women and all the orders they gave for us to do this and that for them. I found being tied up in the storage room rather relaxing for a change.
At dinner I served Julie. After dinner there was to be a dance. Mrs Peterson drove us back to our cabin where Julie told me to take off the jock and put on my red speedo. Once in the speedo, Julie took rope and tied my hands behind my back and then wrapped the rope with duct tape. She put my red ball gag in my mouth. Then we headed for the car. Mr. Peterson was in his black tong swim suit, his hands tied, a black leather plug gag strapped on his mouth.
At the lodge, all of the slaves were lined up against one wall. Each was fitted with a slave collar which we were told would remain on us for the rest of the retreat. From a ring on the slave collar, one end of a short cord was attached with a snap-device. The other end was fixed to a eye-bolt on the wall. The women gathered in their nearly-formal dresses, drank champagne, socialized, and then when the music started (records) those who wanted to dance walked over to the waiting slaves. If a woman chose you, she unhooked your cord from the wall, and you went with her onto the dance floor and as well as you could with your hands bound, you danced. When the dance was over, the woman retuned you to the wall. I was asked many times to dance, and I enjoyed the activity.
The ride back to our cabin was very quiet. Of course, being still gagged, Mr. Peterson and I couldn’t say anything, but usually Julie and her mother talked.
Not this time. Once inside the cabin, Julie started almost shouting at me.
“How dare you dance with all of those women and have such a good time?” she said. “I can’t trust you to be faithful. Even with your cock and balls locked up, you still went out with anyone and had a great time. You’re in big trouble now!”
I couldn’t understand what was going on. I had no choice but to dance with whomever unhooked me from the wall. We had to obey any woman who told us to do something – those were the rules. What was Julie talking about?
But she went on and on about how awful I behaved. Well, I wouldn’t sleep in any bed with her that night, she was sure. Suddenly she stood and led me through a door into a back room I hadn’t been in before. It was a small room used for storage, and it had a support pole which held up some part of the room. Julie stood me next to the pole, and picked up some rope that was sitting on the shelves. She tied my upper body to the pole (my arms were still tied from the dance). She tied my legs to the pole. She brought out a roll of duct tape and wrapped it around my face below my nose, and around the pole.
Then around my forehead and around the pole. Then around my chest, my waist, my upper legs, my ankles. I was now standing tightly bound to the pole, gagged, unable to move much, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Have a nice night,” shouted Julie as she stormed out of the storage room slamming the door.
And so I stood there, all night, trussed up, gagged, in the dark. I couldn’t believe it. I was again, unhappy at the way Julie had tied me, and how long she had left me. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to like being a slave. For sure, bondage had lost some of its alure.
In the morning, Julie came in and asked me quietly if I was sorry for what I had done. You bet I was. I did my best to say so through the gag.
She released me, slowly, and sent me to the bathroom to clean up, then to the kitchen to help with breakfast. We sat around the table silently eating.
Again, so that I didn’t look like a weakling, I told Julie and her mother how much I had enjoyed the night and the punishment. I was learning to lie rather well – I did it because I didn’t want them to send me home.
Then Mrs. Peterson said that in the morning I was to work at the swimming pool again, at about 11:00 I was to go to the kitchen with some of the other men and be fitted with a back-pack with lunch as she and Julie had decided to go on a hike and picnic to a nearby lake. Rick and I would go with them, and carry the lunch.
That morning I worked at the pool, and had a problem. At about 10:15 one women called me over. First she ordered me to cover her with sun screen – all of her. She wore only the tiniest little string thong bottom. She wanted all of her covered including her breasts and just everything. I was reluctant, which showed, and I had trouble doing it as my penis jumped in its chastity cage and was painful for me but finally I finished.
Next she instructed me to go to the bar and get her a bloody-Mary. I saw Julie then, and she waved to me, so I needed to go to her. The woman saw Julie too, but the woman was insistant that I should get her the drink. I shook my head and refused. The woman was furious, and said she would do something about teaching me obedience. Then she had another slave get her drink while I went over by Julie for a few minutes.
A bit later I was in the kitchen, picking up the pack, which was put on my back, and then I met the women and the other slaves outside of the lodge. We headed off to the lake. It was a great day, and the walk was about a mile which took us about half an hour. At the lake we put down the packs, opened them, and laid out the lunch for the women – about ten of them. We slaves saw that the women had everything they wanted, and then we were allowed to eat.
“We’re going to skinny-dip in the lake,” one of the women announced. “We can’t let slaves watch, so they must be bound and blindfolded.”
I don’t know why they bothered as the little thongs the women wore were hardly anything at all, but nevertheless Julie tied me up, binding my legs and arms despite my slave chains. She hog-tied me too, checked to be sure my gag was tight, and then added a blindfold. So all ten of us men were now laying on the grass near the lake, bound, gagged, blindfolded, hog-tied. We could hear the women splashing and laughing in the lake. They probably played there for forty-five minutes or so, then came out and lay naked in the sun for another hour or so. They they dressed, untied us, and we headed back to the lodge. All in all, it was a pleasant afternoon.
Mr. Peterson and I walked back to the cabin, changed, and back to the lodge to serve dinner. After dinner the women had organized game time – some played canasta, some this or that board game, some pinochle. The slaves stood behind their mistresses and got them whatever they wanted during the evening – snacks, drinks, and so on.
At just after midnight, it was back to our cabin where Julie tied my arms at the wrists, put in my gag, and put me to bed in my jock with no other restraints. It was the loosest I had slept so far.
In the morning Julie released me, and in my jock I joined her and Mr. Peterson at breakfast. Mrs. Peterson became very serious.
“Sam, did a women ask you to get her a drink yesterday?”
“Yes,” I said, “But Julie was waving at me at the same time. I needed to go to her.”
“So you did refuse to serve the woman?”
“Yes, I guess.”
“You should have obeyed. She has reported you as a disobedient slave.”
“What does that mean?” I asked – afraid that I already knew.
“It means that you may be called today for punishment. I’m not sure what they will do. Slaves must obey. You have no other choice. You agreed to follow the rules.”
Gagged and in my slave chains and thong I went with Rick to the lodge. We started our tasks at the swimming pool, but shortly all slaves were called into the lodge. When we were all there, along with many of the women including Julie and Mrs. Peterson, the President announced, “A slave has been reported for disobedience. Young man (she pointed to me), step forward.”
Very much concerned about what was to happen, I stepped forward.
“Were you disobedient?” the woman asked.
I grunted into the gag, and tried to shake my head – no.
“Still not cooperating,” she said and I realized I had made another mistake. I should have agreed.
“You are guilty. You will spend at least six hours in the cage. You three slaves there, bind him tightly and prepare him for the cage.”
Three slaves came forward with rope in their hands. I was trussed up as tightly as I had ever been, then wraps of duct tape reinforced all of the rope and reinforced my gag. I was hog tied, as I had seen them do to the other disobedient slave a couple of days before. Then my knees were then brought up to my chest and more rope held them in place – so I was currled up like a ball – a turkey ready to be roasted. Four other slaves carried the cage into the room, and set it in the middle of the floor. Four slaves then picked up my fully trussed-up form, and stuffed me into the cage (I just barely fit -it seemed to be a size smaller cage than the one I had seen before). They shut the door squeezing me in, and locked it. Then everyone went about his or her business, leaving me there for “at least” six hours.
I couldn’t believe how I felt. I could hardly move in any direction – hardly even squirm. I tried to grunt and moan, but the gag and the wraps of duct tape reduced me to the most pathetic wimpers and sighs. Nobody paid any attention anyway. I sat and wondered if I could take it for six hours, realizing that I had little choice as I had no way to communicate any problem, and nobody seemed to be paying any attention to me. I suppose they assumed that all slaves were used to such heavy bondage. Again, it was awful, and I thought seriously about telling Julie and her mother that I had had enough.
Time passed slowly, and I sat and watched people come and go. I had been put in the cage about eight in the morning, so would be out around two in the afternoon. After what seemed like forever, people came in and ate lunch, the women with their slaves waiting on them. Julie came in, and walked over to me.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Mmmmm mmmmmmmmm,” was about all I could offer.
“Not too much longer,” she said. “You’ll be fine. Try to relax.”
She left, and I sat in the cage. Time seemed to stop – certainly it slowed down a crawl.
At about two o’clock (I could see a clock on the lodge room wall), the President of the club came in with a number of the women and their slaves including the woman who had complained about me.
“Well, slave,” the President addressed me, “Have you learned your lesson?
“Mmmmmmm,” I moaned trying to say “Yes.”
“I don’t care,” the woman who had reported me interjected. “I think he should stay there the rest of the day. We simply cannot have slaves refuse any order.”
“But, Sadie,” the President said, “He’s young and he’s learning. Let’s compromise. He stays in there one more hour. How about that?”
“Well, I’ll agree if he then serves me the rest of the day and evening. We’ll test to see if he’s learned obedience.”
“Fair enough,” said the President.
So I stayed in the cage one more long long long hour. Finally they released me, untied me, took off the tape, and helped me stand, which was very difficult. Reduced to my gag and slave chains, I exercised, stretched, and after a few minutes, was able to move around on my own. One of the women said I had better get out to the pool and serve the woman who had accused me, or there would be more trouble.
It was then three in the afternoon, and I found the women who immediately started telling me things to do – massage her, sun screen her, get her a drink – she really tested me. But I did alright this time. When she went to her cabin, she took me with her, had me wash some dishes, clean the toilet, help her dress, and so on. At dinner I served her while her slave served Julie.
When dinner was over, she returned me to Julie and said only, “I guess he learned his lesson. I hope he’s a better slave now.”
We stayed and watched another movie – this time a thing with Zach Gilligan called “All Tied Up.” The women loved the first two thirds when Gilligan was tied to a bed or elsewhere, and once even gagged. They booed when he tied up his girl friend.
Home, Julie tied my hands loosely, had me strip completely, and we went to bed. I was exhausted and fell right to sleep wondering what the next day would bring. I was getting tired to being tied up so much. I wondered if I should be honest with Julie about my feelings.