clarencejohnson
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Lessons in Bondage (story)
🕑 Added 2023-04-14 05:28:45 +0000 UTCBrandon shifted around on the cold, hard, basement floor, his chain rattling and clanking with each movement. His body chafed inside the unbearably tight and restrictive latex straitjacket encasing his aching body. His world was black, with his head sealed securely within a latex mask and blindfold, and his mouth stuffed to the brim with soiled panties held inside by a firm gag that prevented even the quietest sound from escaping his lips. Everything was too tight and dug into his skin, causing constant pain and discomfort. He struggled to breath, with only two tiny slits for his nostrils allowing air inside. The suffocating heat inside his latex prison made it difficult to sleep.
For five long years, this had been his life. There was no way out. He had long ago accepted that fact. All attempts at resistance had long ceased. He now viewed himself more as an object than a human being. A forgotten toy. A broken piece of furniture.
He heard the door creak open, and then slow, confident footsteps making their way down the staircase. Without even thinking, he began sliding his bound body across the floor as quickly as he could, desperately inching his way toward the sound like a dying slug. That is, until the chain hooking him to the wall tensed and he could go no farther. But he needed to demonstrate complete subservience to his captor. He needed to show that he was excited by her presence. He knew the consequences if he failed to do so.
But his captor didn't return his enthusiasm, kicking him away as he strained to make contact with her. She unhooked his chain leash from the wall and yanked him upright, her grip like a vise. Once he was on his feet, she loosened the restraints binding his ankles together just enough so that he could climb the stairs and maintain his balance. She tugged him mercilessly up the stairs behind her, not slowing down even slightly to accommodate her captive's limited mobility.
After reaching their destination, she forced him down onto his knees and, at long last, removed his blindfold. His eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness, and then focused in on the ruthless woman standing before him.
She was as beautiful as she was cruel, her dark hair framing her pale skin and almond-shaped eyes. But there was a coldness to her beauty, like a porcelain doll. There was no hint of warmth or affection in her eyes. He was nothing to her.
She leaned over him and removed his gag, followed by the dozen or so panties she had crammed into his mouth after their last session. He flexed his jaw in an effort to ease the aching, but knew better than to speak without being prompted.
The icy woman then seated herself on the bed next to Brandon and opened her laptop. Brandon stared up at her from the floor. He wasn't given the luxury of a seat. It was time for the slave to give his mistress her English lesson.
Even to this day, Brandon would sometimes get shivers when he thought about how things had ended up this way. He first met Na-Yeon 10 years ago when he moved to South Korea to teach English. She was one of his top students, and he eventually started giving her private lessons at her home at the behest of her parents. They grew rather close over the years, and Brandon's tutelage helped her score highly on the English portion of her collage entrance exams.
She was a determined and ambitious student, and knew how important English proficiency was to her career success. She knew she needed to practice with a native speaker everyday if she wanted to reach true fluency. Unfortunately, Brandon was a busy guy and didn't have time to tutor her everyday.
While preparing for one especially important English test at her university, five years after they had first met, she asked Brandon if he could stay at her house over the weekend to help her study and practice. Brandon reluctantly agreed, knowing how important the test was to her.
But Na-Yeon seemed to quickly take a liking to having him around to help her whenever she needed it, and he woke up one morning chained by his neck to the couch, where he had been sleeping. She explained to him that she really needed him to stick around until the end of the semester to ensure she got top grades. It was at that moment that Brandon had first truly realized how attracted he had become to the now beautiful young woman. It was also the moment he discovered that being subjugated by a beautiful woman aroused him. And he assumed from her peculiar behavior that she was probably interested in him too and had some kinky BDSM fantasies. He decided to go along with it, hoping he might score with her.
But things wouldn't turn out the way he had hoped. As time went on, Na-Yeon didn't show any romantic interest in Brandon, and only seemed interested in her English lessons. Brandon was patient, thinking maybe this was a part of the fantasy for her and that if he continued playing along, it would eventually pay off. Besides, he found himself increasingly turned on by the whole scenario - being chained to a couch and unable to leave, forced to serve his now grown-up student.
But he eventually grew tired of being bound indefinitely with no payoff, and confronted his captor about it, asking her when things between them would be allowed to progress.
Na-Yeon seemed unhappy at Brandon's resistance, and then revealed to him something she had kept on hand βin case something like this happened.β It was a latex straitjacket and accompanying mask, blindfold, and gag.
Brandon remembered how he'd felt at that moment, surprised at how turned on he was by the idea of being forced into such a suit by his beautiful student, but also worried that if he let her put him inside it, he would be completely at her mercy for as long as she pleased.
If Brandon had made a different decision that fateful day, he wouldn't be in his current predicament. He would have gone on to live a normal life as a human being, free to pursue his own dreams and desires. But today he was a mere animal who existed only to satisfy the whims of his mistress.
He remembered the conflict between intense excitement and fear that day, as he was slowly sealed away within the latex, feeling his freedom drift away with each tightening strap, but being too aroused to resist. Even at that time, something deep inside him had told him he would never be free again. That if he allowed Na-Yeon to seal him away, he would never be able to return to his old life. But he had sat there and let it happen all the same.
From that moment on, Na-Yeon had complete and utter control over Brandon's life. At first, she was relatively gentle and accommodating, and Brandon didn't suffer too much. He was allowed to sleep on the couch, and Na-Yeon would talk to him and show him affection somewhat regularly. She would even give him hand-jobs occasionally.
But as time went on, she seemed to take him more and more for granted. She slowly adopted the attitude that treating him with kindness was a waste of energy. He was her property, and he had no rights, so why bother?
Brandon had been resistant to her increasinging callousness at first, but was consistently shocked by his mistress's unfathomable cruelty and harsh punishments. He eventually learned that she had no interest in how he felt about anything, and that expressing any kind of dissatisfaction only made things exponentially worse. She made it very clear that they were not friends, or equals, in anyway. He was her slave, she was his owner, and he would obey her without question. Perhaps she hadn't planned for this from the start, but after she had made up her mind, Brandon was in no position to resist.
She eventually placed his penis in a chastity cage, telling him she was tired of getting him off and that he seemed to be much more compliant and agreeable when he was horny for her. So why not keep it that way all the time?
It worked, and from then on Brandon was usually too distracted by his lust for Na-Yeon to think about resisting her.
Eventually, Na-Yeon seemed to grow bored of having Brandon around all the time and moved him from the couch to the basement, letting him out of his dungeon when and only when it was time for an English lesson, and seeming to completely forget he existed otherwise.
In the past, Brandon would sometimes dream of escaping. But such thoughts felt so distant now. They were like part of a former life. Back when he was a human, before he had been transformed into the worthless object he was today. He could no longer even fathom the possibility of resisting Na-Yeon. He lived only to satisfy her whims and desires, and wholeheartedly accepted that fact. There was no anger, sadness, or regret. Only the knowledge that he was a piece of property, and his only purpose was to serve and suffer. This was, and aways would be, his existence.
As Na-Yeon prepared for the day's lesson, there was a sudden knock at the door. She leapt from the bed and opened it. Another girl, around the same age as her, walked in. She looked familiar.
She became extremely excited and bubbly on seeing Brandon, immediately running over to him and manhandling him like the object he was.
Brandon was confused and flustered. Na-Yeon had never revealed her secret in the basement to anybody, meaning Brandon hadn't interacted with anybody but his owner for around five years. He didn't know what was going on or how to respond.
It wasn't until the girl called him Mr. Peters that it clicked. He suddenly remembered who she was, and fear and shame swept over him. It was Tae-Ri, a former student of his. But not just any student. She was the most antagonistic, misbehaved student he had ever had, constantly disrupting his class and behaving crassly. She had always seemed to have a specific hatred for him, and he had never been fond of her either.
Things weren't made any better by the fact that she was a poor student, and he had been forced to fail her. He remembered the day she came to his office demanding that he pass her, and flipping her lid and vowing revenge after he told her, in a not-so-polite way, that her grade was final.
Who would have thought that after all those years, she would have the last laugh...
Comments
Clarence Johnson
I agree he is quite lucky ;) Thanks for the comment, my friend!
Lucky brandon, I envy your definitive latex fate
