Miss Elizabeth's Captive

That Saturday night was one of the most frustrating of my life. I remained hooded with wrists and ankles cuffed, and worse my legs were bent back and the ankle cuffs drawn up behind me and hooked to the strap which held my wrists to my neck collar. I was hog tied.

I knew it to be Liz’s bedroom because of the mixture of fragrant perfumes and lotions and the sounds of undressing and drawers being opened and closed.

I lay on my side on a shaggy throw rug. It reminded me of something placed in the corner for the family mutt. I could hear Jamie and Liz hugging and kissing and then Jamie tended to me.

When he knelt, I knew his clothing had been removed as he freely brushed his nakedness against mine. It was quite evident when he held a basin or some type of vessel for me to urinate. Whatever surrounded my penis and scrotum could be shifted enough to ensure a degree of neatness in the task, though I felt and heard my stream impeded by something. Relieving myself under the circumstances was a chore but after the long evening on display I did have to go.

Then I felt the toes of Liz’s bare foot playfully rubbing my buttocks, needless action to obtain my attention.

“We’ll talk tomorrow about your new role. The envelope with the videotape is addressed, tucked away and ready to be mailed at any time so I expect your behavior to be exemplary. But we will need to define what that behavior will be.”

And then what little light permeated the hood disappeared and I heard the rustling of bed sheets, the girlish giggling of Jamie and the soft sultry commands of Liz. My hostess a

nd her sexual toy, judged to be completely naked, slept together in the carnal sense of the word.

I listened to Liz being orally serviced throughout the night. She was insatiable, apparently waking Jamie several times to resume the endless pleasure. And there were no feminine shrieks with Liz’s numerous climaxes. Her ecstasy was celebrated just as she otherwise comported herself… calmly, authoritatively, and with panache.

And Little Sam, locked away, could not even tumefy in his cage much less join in the orgasmic revelries. What surrounded my groin placed me in agony whenever he engorged.

On Sunday morning, Liz arose and moved to the shower room. She apparently dragged Jamie along, for the bedroom was completely still but for the sounds of ablutions from the adjoining bathroom.

After a time, a moist and steamy Jamie returned and kindly released each cuff long enough for me to stretch one limb at a time. Then he dutifully returned me to the strict bondage. The hood was raised far enough to have food spooned into my mouth, graciously offered by the tiny manicured hand of the blond maid. He remained naked, judging from the occasional feel of his warmth against mine. And I reluctantly had to admit it felt good to sense something with the hours and hours of dark isolation.

Then Liz exited the bathroom, ignoring me. She left, taking Jamie with her, presumably at first to have breakfast, but the extended passage of time suggested otherwise.

I spent Sunday blindfolded and hogtied on the floor. After many hours, urges became pressing and I finally had to soil the rug. When I tried to roll out of my own excretions, for the first time I realized that a leash or cord was also hooked to the hogtie configuration, very much limiting my range for even rolling about. Thus, I spent much of the day lying in my own fluids.

Chapter Eighteen

“Jamie and I did some shopping and then took in a movie,” my hostess explained.

I had been returned to the examination room where my bonds were removed after which I inexplicably hugged and kissed Jamie in gratitude. Standing under the open shower in the corner, Jamie soaped me as Liz watched. I was instructed to keep my hands on my head as the femininely petite hands cleansed. Jamie was wearing a tight, brief topless bathing suit and standing on a small stool. Liz was dressed appropriately for the Sunday afternoon of recreation.

“Whenever he’s been to the beauty parlor, he likes to go out, though a night’s sleep strains his coiffure.”

Jamie looked as pretty as ever to me. But obviously there were different standards to be met. And what really strained his coiffure was the clenching thighs of his Mistress, I thought to myself, but remained silent. There is something about having a chastity device locked about the genitals that makes a male very deferential to the woman holding the key. And after some small talk, such became the main topic of discussion.

The darkened windows of the living room suggested that I had lied in Liz’s bedroom, bound and in blindfolded isolation, all day. I was very happy to be released but could not help being concerned about the sturdy contraption encircling my genitals.

Comprised entirely of clear plastic, a sizable ring, hinged at the bottom of its circumference, had been closed over both the base of my penis and scrotum. Attached to this was a cage-like cylinder which encapsulated my penis. Numerous openings allowed for the passing of excretions, as I had learned in lying on the rug. But my fingers, naughty fingers as Liz described, could not fit through the openings to touch. And of course the cage was padlocked to the ring and the ring could not be slid off due to the protrusion of my balls.

The result was that Little Sam was cleverly locked away. And tumescence was painfully impossible, as I found when awakening to the sounds of Liz being serviced and experiencing her fifth or sixth orgasm of the night.

Little Sam wanted to join in the merriment and found it agonizingly impossible to even salute.

“You’ll find the CB-2000 to be physically comfortable Sam, but mentally wearing. Over time you’ll become used to it and the fact that Jamie has the only key. It’s not a long walk from your office and you can stop in for cleansing and adjustment from time to time. But you’ll have to arrange that with Jamie.”

I learned much from Liz’s brief comment. A ‘CB-2000', the device was termed. But that thought passed quickly as the notion of Jamie holding the key brought sudden consternation.

“And don’t try to cut it off, Sam. Think about the videotape. You know what is on it and if you’d like to view it sometime when can arrange that. It was recorded in high definition, if you have not seen that yet. The quality leaves very little doubt that it is in fact you cavorting naked with Jamie.

“So remember that it’s very easy to drop it in the building mail chute the first time you fail to respond to my summons or arrive here with a tampered CB-2000.”

I tried to calm myself, though my thoughts ran wild. “To what end, Liz? Why? You have money, beauty, probably as much influence as you’d like to purchase.”

“That’s ‘Miss Elizabeth’, Sam. Henceforth I’ll require more respect. And to answer, it’s about control. You should know that. Plus Jamie needs companionship. And in case you have not realized it, you have not offered much resistance in traversing this path. It started because you were curious about Jamie and a little girl viewing some floggings. Well, we’ll satiate that curiosity for you, Sam. But as I said weeks ago, there is a price to be paid.”

The sensuous soapy hands of Jamie washed as we conversed. For Jamie it was like a child caring for a newly acquired pet, the way he smoothed his hands over me and adoringly washed every crevice. Little Sam began to stand. I grimaced and Liz smiled, knowing the cause.