With my legs bent at an angle--nearly ninety degrees--but with my arms also attached to the bindings, I forced to roll uncomfortably back and forth. Each time I did so, my C cup breasts would be squashed against the cold marble floor, causing me to yelp. After much rolling and groaning, I found I could lie to one side, but soon enough that would cause my bare arm on that side to go numb. So I just kept rolling from side to side the whole afternoon. Once again, at some point, my bladder gave its signal and I let it go again, the pee warm up my vulva and butt. Damn this binding, I thought. Ok, so I lied to him, but that wasn't really my fault. Did it really warrant my semi-naked in my bra and this ridiculous binding and ball in my mouth?

"Beep, boop beep!" My ears heard another familiar tune. That was my cell phone!!! Perhaps it was one of my friends and he would undo this binding and let me reply. I tensed up and waited, but that failed to happen until I heard another message tone. Then another seconds later. Finally silence. Shit, shit, what happened? Oh damnit, he must have messaged back. Who was it? Which college or school mate? Which friend? Maybe they'll come over, I thought. Then I'll be rescued and this whole predicament will be over. But then my friends would see me with a diaper on. I'll be the butt of all jokes for ages. Good going Freyja....

It was perhaps maybe just over an hour later which I felt another bodily signal. albeit not from my bladder. It was my anal region and it told me I need to take a dump. Yeah, ok, call it shit if you like. "Mmmmph," I called through the gag. "Hemmmmph," I called twice before footsteps came.

"What," he grumbled levelling the gun at me.

"Immmneedtooopmmmm," I tried to say 'I need to poo' in gag speak.

He just turned away. No, please. "Pllmmmmm," I groaned, trying to squirm towards him. "Ireallnmmmtopmmm." I really need to poo.

Thankfully, he turned back and still pointing the gun at my forehead, he eased the ball open. Saliva drooled out. "Please, I need to use the toilet. I need to...poo," I croaked.

"You have a toilet on," he cackled and lifted the ball back up. I shook my head wildly. "No, please, I don't want to go it the diaper. Please, let me use the toilet."

"No," he replied. "Open back up."

"Please!" I started pleading wildly, my anus really signalling. "Please, I don't want to make a mess in..." He shooked his head but thankfully undid the rope bounds. My ankles were still bound so he dragged me all way to the nearest toilet. "Ok, do it," he said then noticed my binding. "What the hell," he grumbled, switching my cuffs to the front so that I could, with some difficulty, undo the diaper.

"Ok," he gestured, still standing there.

"Please," I just said. Oh my gosh, is he going to?

"Shit, Freyja," he gestured. "I'm not leaving you out of sight."

WHAT?! I screamed in my mind. Unable to see any way out, I didn't argue and now with my crotch exposed to a strange masked man, I did my business. Naturally, I was red with embarrassment all over, having my own modesty violated. Damnit! I screamed in my mind, I'll get you back for all this.

My business over, it was a pain trying to wipe clean with my hands cuffed in front of me. Just as I twisted around to hit the flush, he did so then he actually taped the diaper back up around me. In another scenario, I would have said thanks, but that was a little shock. Back out, he was about to reposition me in the hogtie when I asked to stretch. "Please, Mister," I begged, "My arms and legs really ache."

Staring at me, he thought for a few seconds but then nodded. It wasn't much of a relief, but at least it was something before I was re-cuffed and the ball jammed into my mouth. It was back again to another session of squirming around, but as I did so, I felt the diaper loose. I had read forums and blogs online where they said diaper tapes would be loosen if you untape the re-tape the diaper. Shit, would it fall off?

Just as I ran this thought through my mind, I felt him touch my ropes and thankfully I was free from the hogtie. "Dinner time," he announced and I was back again in the kitchen. This time, my hands were simple kept cuffed behind the chair's back while he tied a rope around my naked torso, and again attached my ankles with zip ties to the chair. Less than forty minutes later, I was finally relieved of the ball in my mouth, the saliva sphere resting against my chin as he forked up a pile of spaghetti.