But enough "fond memories." I have things to do.

First the harness gag. (He used to have several of these, but he's down to just his favorite one now.) There's a dresser and wardrobe just outside my cell to hold all "my" clothes. I have to reach through the bars with my wrists still chained to open one of the drawers with the "toys" to get the gag. (As I said, I CAN remove the cuffs to get dressed, but if I have them off any longer than absolutely necessary…, well, see the part above about "hell to pay.") I fumble around and find the harness gag and manage to get the straps positioned properly. I have to make sure all the straps are as tight as I can get them for "inspection" later.

Now to find the tan business suit. From his choice of clothing, my guess is that he's going to want to play either "Secretary's lunch break" or "Deposing the lady lawyer." In any case, he left the choice of underwear to me, so I select a basic white bra to match the panties I already have on, and of course stockings and garter belt.

I must dress in a particular methodical order. First the garter belt goes on. Then one of the ankle cuffs comes off so I can slip on one stocking and immediately replace the cuff. Repeat with other leg. Now I pull on the skirt. Lastly, I get to work on the bra, blouse, and jacket: Take off one wrist cuff, slip arm into bra, and replace the cuff. Take off other cuff, slip bra on the rest of the way and fasten, then replace cuff. Repeat with blouse and jacket, making sure to have both cuffs on in between each item. And of course the slip I was wearing comes off as the bra goes on.

This rather tedious process ensures that I always have at least three cuffs on at all times. I always follow his dressing instruction to the letter. I don't know if he'll watch his little video tape on any particular day, and I have no intention of finding out the hard way by taking any shortcuts. And at least it give me something to do.

With dress-up time done, I wipe the spittle from around my mouth, and lay down on the cot to wait. My jaw is already starting to ache from the gag, so I try relaxing the muscles as best I can. I try to occupy my mind by imagining ways to escape, but I must admit I also find myself daydreaming about the days when he comes home in a particularly good mood. It infuriates me when this happens, because I know that's just what he wants, but I can't help myself! You see, I've learned that, besides being a madman who doesn't hesitate to beat me, my so- called "master" can inflict pleasure as well as pain.

It was the very next morning after my painful lesson with the switch. I thought I would never fall asleep that night while so tightly tied and in such pain. But I know I did sleep, because I definitely remember waking up to find him leaning over me, gently stroking the matted hair away from my face. I was startled, and tried to crawl away, which he let me do for a moment. Then without a word, he slowly walked toward me, bent down and continued brushing my hair back. Then he removed the gag, waiting patiently for me to try to get some feeling back in my jaws, and offered me some water. He removed the cruelly tight ropes from my wrists and immediately retied them - but now he tied them firmly, not cruelly. Likewise, he retied my ankles leaving a short length of rope between my legs.

Then he put some type of ointment on the welts on my buttocks and thighs, and whispered that he had something "special" in mind for today. I tried to ask permission to speak, but he just shushed me, perhaps knowing that my jaws would need a little more time to recover.

Helping me to my feet, he led me, hobbling, up the stairs to the kitchen where he had a generous breakfast ready. He encouraged me to eat and drink my fill, and even allowed me a semi- private "potty" break. Then he instructed me to kneel in the proper slave position and asked if I had anything I wanted to tell him.

"Master," I said. "Your slave is very, very sorry for speaking out to you. Your slave will never do it again, so please don't beat your slave again, Master."

Apparently this was the right thing to say, because he grinned broadly and said I'd learned my lesson very well. He then commanded me to get up and led me into a bedroom in a part of the house I hadn't seen before. Producing a scarf, he blindfolded me, and had me lie down on the bed. He fastened my tied wrists to the head of the bed, and, after cutting the rope between my ankles, tied them to opposite sides of the foot of the bed so I lay spread wide.

My immediate thought was "here it comes," because I suddenly realized he hadn't raped me yet - even though that's what I assumed this whole abduction was all about. But even at that moment, with me tied down, helpless and available, he continued to surprise me. Just as I was preparing myself for a quick "wham- bam," I instead felt a gentle sensation on my right nipple. He was licking my breast!

He continued licking my nipple, and sucking on it, and nibbling on it with his teeth. At the same time he was caressing my other breast and stroking my hair with his hands. His mouth continued to work on both breasts, and then up to my neck and face. He licked my lips and kissed me long and deep, all the time kneading and pinching my breasts and nipples. My breathing and pulse quickened and I realized I was becoming aroused in spite of myself. He began tracing my lips with his fingers and I found myself hungrily sucking on those fingers like I used to suck on my boyfriend's cock in what seemed now like another life. His other hand reached down to my clit and I heard him chuckle to himself upon finding such a warm moist welcome to his strong firm touch. But then he suddenly stopped.

"Not quite so fast, my little vixen," he said, as he withdrew.

"Uhhnn!" I moaned, as I thrust my hips around trying to find those fingers.

"I'll be the one to decide if and when you cum. Today, you're going to learn a whole new meaning to the word ‘torture.'"

Before I could say anything, he placed a gag in my mouth. But instead of a ball, this one consisted of a short penis- shaped plug attached to a strap. Then he proceeded with his "torture," toying and teasing every part of my body, coaxing me to a fever pitch, but never letting me cum. Being blindfolded, I never saw exactly what he used that day. One moment I would feel the soft tickling of a feather inside my thighs, then a gentle scratching of sandpaper on my nipples. Sometimes he filled me with a dildo, sometimes he used a vibrator on my clit, and sometimes his own teeth and tongue. I felt ice cubes hardening my nipples, and squealed in shock as hot wax fell on my breasts and thighs. I know that several times it was his real hard hot cock that entered my pussy, but with slow, shallow thrusts, only to withdraw before I could gain satisfaction.

I became delirious with desire, raw animal lust filling my entire being. My consciousness was consumed by my unfulfilled need. I found myself writhing madly in my bonds, screaming through my gag, begging and pleading for release. I don't know how long he continued, but eventually he mounted me one last time. His enormous throbbing cock found its entry, while he grabbed my hair and, pulling my head back, began thrusting, thrusting, faster and faster. I was screaming through my gag, "Yes, yes! Fuck your slave. Fuck her!"

And at last he was finished. I lay on the bed, a panting, sweating, quivering heap of spent sexual energy. He softly caressed the length of my body, while whispering what a good slave I'd been. Then he removed the gag and again asked if I had anything I wanted to tell him.

"Yes, Master," I gasped. "Thank you, Master. Your slave wants to be tortured like that again! Please, Master, please keep torturing your slave!"

"Oh no, I think you've had quite enough for today. But I want you to learn from this lesson, as well as the one last night, Slave. Think about the pain yesterday, and remember what a little slut you've shown yourself to be today."

"Yes, Master. Your slave is horny slut. She's a bitch in heat, who needs to be used, and serve her Master."

"Excellent, Slave."

And with that, he untied me from the bed and had to carry me back to my cell, as my legs felt too weak to walk. He replaced the rope bindings with the leather cuffs, and generous lengths of connecting chains. I was allowed to eat dinner with him later that night, and when he locked me in my cell for the last time that day, he kissed me, wished me a good night, and said what a good slave I was going to be. Thus I spent my third night as a madman's slave, in a deep contented and satisfied sleep.