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Message-ID: <51038asstr$1114585804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Al Deacon <deacon_al_j@yahoo.ca>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} The Knights of St. Jillian.  by A. J. Deacon.   codes  M/F bdsm con
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Date: Wed, 27 Apr 2005 03:10:04 -0400
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Copyright 2005 by A. J. Deacon Please contact me for
permission to post on any site that does not charge
for entrance. All other rights reserved! No portion of
this story may be reproduced by any means anywhere but
here.
 The story should not be read by anyone under the
legal age to read sexually explicit stories, or by
anyone in a location where it is illegal to read such
stories. 

	The Knights of Saint Jillian.....Part One
	
	As I look back on those times, I am amazed that I
managed to survive with body, mind and soul intact.
There is a line from an old classic song that goes
"Every kiss, every Hug, seems to act just like a
drug." Well it goes beyond that. It isn't just the
hugs and the kisses that can be habit forming. You
can't forget about all the other things that go along
with human relationships, the tender touches, the
loving penetration, the orgasms. Even the pain and
depravation, can hook you, just like cocaine, or
heroin. You reach the point where nothing matters more
than your next sex fix. A point where you cease to
live as a human being, and merely exist as a sex
organ. Your whole being seems to be centered entirely
in your clitoris. Every sensation, be it from pain or
pleasure, directly stimulates it. You cease to think
and only sense. The kiss of the whip,  the hunger
pangs, the muscle cramps, the electric shock, and even
the humiliation of having to beg for them, these too
stimulate your clitoris. Eventually you'll actually
beg for them too, because you need that next sex fix.
While he'll no longer give you the hugs and kisses or
the tender touches or the loving penetration, you know
that he'll happily give you the pain and the shame if
you beg him hard enough. 

	But I've gotten way ahead of myself. You're probably
wondering what I'm going on about. I should start from
the beginning I guess. The most important thing you
need to know about me, is that through some strange
cross-wiring in my brain, I perceive pain as pleasure.
I have always felt like this, even as a child. When
ever I injured myself, I cried long after the pain was
gone, just like all kids do. I didn't know why other
kids cried, but I cried because when the pain was gone
so was the pleasure. Stopping my pain was like taking
candy away, and I cried because I missed it. They say
that people who get addicted to drugs, do so because
there body is primed for it. There is something in
there physical or emotional make-up that leaves them
prone to addiction. I want you to know that just like
them, I too am prone to becoming addicted to the
sexual pleasure of pain and humiliation.I know you
didn't expect me to go that far back to the beginning,
but I feel that you need to know that about me. 

	When I reached puberty, and discovered the pleasures
of sex, I quickly associated the pleasure I got from
pain, to the pleasure of sex, and just as quickly
associated guilt with both forms of pleasure. All
through my teenage years, I used the pain from clothes
pins on my nipples, or my pubic lips to enhance the
orgasms I achieved by masturbation in private. So deep
was the feeling of guilt that I never told anybody
about my quirky little secret. Even on rare occasions
when I got into a petting situation with a boy and we
orgasmed, it was always done in the "normal" way. I
always have had a very active libido, and from the
onset of puberty I have felt the need to climax two or
three times a day. It took me several years before I
overcame the guilt associated with sex  enough to
actually masturbate that often. I guess whenever I
gave in to the pleadings of my date and let him go all
the way with me, the danger of discovery, and the
prospect of the shame that went with getting caught,
were enough to heighten my orgasm. I denied even to
myself, the fact that I was also very submissive.

	I have always had a lot of males "interested" in me.
I have been described as beautiful, and as having a
knockout body. I guess it's true, but I've never put
too much faith in my beauty bringing me happiness. I
never did anything to enhance my looks. I wore very
little make-up, and my choice of clothes tended toward
the "trendy, but modest" styles. I don't want to sound
like I'm bragging, but my I. Q. is in the genius
range. I mention that, first to point out, that even
possessing high intelligence is not a protection
against addiction, and secondly to explain my above
average interest in study while in school. This, added
to my looks, made me a formidable quest. Only the
bravest and most self-assured boys ever dared to even
approach me, and then they were always on their best
behaviour. Only the boys I encouraged, ever tried to
get beyond a kiss after a date. Most of my attention
was directed toward scholastic achievement, so I
didn't actually accept that many dates. The boys that
did succeed in having sex with me, were totally
grateful and highly discrete. I think it was because
nobody would have believed that I would do such a
thing, and because if they had not kept our secret,
there would not have been a repeat of their good
fortune.

	I earned a PhD in Computer Science, but I don't
mention that except in my resume. In those days the
computer field was so open that I had no trouble
landing an excellent job. With my degree, I could have
easily walked into a professorship in the growing
computer department of the university, but I didn't
see myself as a teacher. About three years after
graduation, I was still single and things weren't much
different than when I was in high school. I still
masturbated about three times a day. I had graduated
from clothes pins, to metal nipple clamps of various
kinds, that I bought over time at sex toy shops. There
were about three or four men that I dated
occasionally, and had sex with just as occasionally.
 
	While attending a big computer show, I met Jack, and
my roller coaster ride began. I thought it was a good
omen that his name was Jack since mine is Jill. I know
it's very childish, but still it was a happy
coincidence. He was four years older than I was, and
also a computer scientist. He had a very good position
in the computer department of a major credit card
company, and I worked for a successful software
development firm. He didn't fit the stereotype of the
typical computer nerd. He had the body of a
professional athlete, and the rugged good looks to
match. Jack didn't date really beautiful women. Not
that they weren't attracted to him, but because in his
experience he found that these women tended to know
their appeal and used the competition between suitors
to gain power over them. He must have sensed that I
was different, because we were attracted to each other
right away. There was something about him that made my
heart leap. Jack was my first love, and I fell head
over heels. We fit together so well. Our interests,
our intelligence, and even our sex fantasies, matched
exactly. I was submissive and he was powerfully
dominant.

	Very shortly after we began dating, I accepted my
submissiveness, and we naturally moved into a
master-slave relationship. I didn't start out wanting
to be a slave, but Jack was so skilful a master that
almost before I knew it I was spending more and more
time naked and helpless, and loving it. When he first
introduced me to the whip, he quickly discovered my
need for pain. He didn't take advantage of me, but
always gave me just enough pain to make sex that much
more enjoyable for me. After a whirlwind engagement of
six months we were married. The first night back after
our honeymoon, I knelt naked in front of him and gave
myself to him totally as his slave. That night he
pierced my nipples and my pubic lips and put gold
rings through them. Then he branded me with an iron
that he heated red hot in the fireplace. The letter
"J" inside a circle was burned into the flesh on the
left side of my hip. It is low enough so that it will
show below bikini panties, except I was no longer
allowed to ware any panties. He applied the red hot
iron to my body, just as I was about to climax. The
intense pain drove me to one of the biggest orgasms of
my life..

	With our combined income we could easily afford to
buy a farm, that was an easy commute to the city.
Since our working hours were the same we could drive
together. We were both from small towns, so we were
happy to get out of the city again. Although we kept
our lifestyle strictly between ourselves, we had the
isolation to enjoy bondage sex in and out of doors,
without having to resort to heavy gags. I completely
enjoyed being led outside naked and helpless. I found
the ever so slight possibly that someone might come
onto our property and see me in this humilating way, a
thrill. From May until October, we would walk out over
our fields, on an almost daily basis. I wore nothing
but shoes, the usual restraints, and a layer of insect
repellent. Each group of red lines across my
shoulders, back, ass, or the back of my thighs, caused
by the application of a switch  freshly cut from a
tree, testified to a separate orgasm. I was getting so
much sexual pleasure with Jack that I very rarely
needed to masturbate by myself any more. To say we
were contented is an understatement.

	In retrospect, in spite of all my happiness, or maybe
because of it, I hadn't noticed how deeply my
enslavement had become.  At first we used to discuss
what we were going to do, and I could even set limits
as to how far I was willing to go.  As each new thing
that was discussed and experienced, became part of our
routine, the limits were slowly exceeded then
completely forgotten. If we did something once and I
didn't specifically say that I didn't ever want to do
that again, it became part of our repertoire without
any further discussion. Soon even modifications to
things weren't discussed beforehand, and if I didn't
object after, it was as if it had been agreed upon
forever.  Eventually nothing was discussed beforehand
and I blindly obeyed him in everything. All my
inhibitions were swept away. My dislikes became a
source of discomfort which because it caused emotional
pain, and shame, even added to the intensity of my
resulting orgasm. The shame I felt from say, his
urinating in my mouth, resulted in a bigger orgasm
than I would have gotten from the pain of the
punishment he would have imposed if I had refused to
accept it.  

	Slowly inch by inch, it seemed, I was transformed
into an unthinking piece of clay that he was free to
shape and reshape into anything he wished. The strange
thing was, that I was only like this while I was with
him or at home. I was still able to function at work
in a totally professional manner. No one at work ever
noticed any change in me or at least never mentioned
it. The minute I stepped into our van when he picked
me up after work, I changed from a genius computer
scientist, into a mindless blonde bimbo. Even to the
point of automatically removing my skirt and half slip
and sitting naked from the waist down, before I
buckled my seat belt. Later, for the last half hour of
our trip home, after passing through the last town, I
would also remove what ever top I was wearing, and
finish the trip completely naked. I would remain naked
until just before we left for work in the morning. I
would dress at the back door just before walking
through it. If it wasn't for the fact that it was too
difficult to get dressed in a moving car, I'm sure I
would have been riding into work in the reverse
condition that I rode home That is not putting my top
on until just before we came to the first town, and
not putting my skirt and half slip on until just
before I got out of the van at work..

	It didn't take very long before sex had become a very
strong habit. I wouldn't say I was addicted, but if
something had happened to separate us, I would be
spending a lot of time in private with my nipple
clamps and vibrators. I became aroused the instant I
felt the cold leather of the car seat against my naked
ass, and remained aroused until I slowly came down
during the ride in to work the next morning. I would
have my first orgasm shortly after we left the city
behind, and he'd park at a road side rest stop and
take me to the back of the van for a quickie. I never
kept count of how many orgasms I had, but the last one
was always in the morning, before I dressed to leave.
I would kneel naked and using only my mouth, bring him
to an orgasm. The whip falling on my back during this
service would wrap around my bottom and strike up at
my pussy and clitoris, bringing me to at least one
orgasm in the mean time. Please understand, I'm not
telling you any of this as a complaint. Oh no! On the
contrary! It was all enjoyable. It was exciting. It
was terrific. Jack was an excellent master. He was
kind, generous, and inventive.  He never had a climax
when I didn't, and usually several times to his one.
There were also many times when I climaxed and he
didn't. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't
want to change anything in those first six years. 

	Change is inevitable.  The company I worked for got
bought out by a larger one. Within weeks, people
started to disappear from their desks. When they
weren't replaced, it became obvious that the company
was drastically down-sizing, and the workload was
increasing. I would have kept quiet about it, but the
nature of the work changed dramatically. "We're no
longer working on important and ground breaking
application software for business and government." I
complained to Jack shortly after we started our drive
home. "Now we're developing mindless childish
shoot-em-up games for the arcade market." His solution
was simple and direct.

	"You will hand in your notice tomorrow," he said
simply. There was no discussion. "We can get by nicely
on my salary now, and we don't need your income. If
you're not happy at work, there's no reason for you to
work there." When I pointed out that the job market
wasn't as open these days he simply said, "I know
that, there's no reason for you to work anywhere."
That was it, case closed . Tomorrow was a Friday, and
I puttered about putting my affairs at work in order
until about three o'clock. During coffee break I
informed our group manager I needed to see him after
break.  When I went to see him I already had all my
personal things with me in a cardboard box. I knew
that when the company found out my intentions, they
wouldn't want me around. I sat in the reception lobby
until all the paper work was processed. At about five
to five, the manager came out and handed me my final
check. There were a couple more digits than I expected
to see. He explained that my section was being phased
out, and just the other day, this amount had been
decided as the buy-out figure. In any case my
employment with the company would have ended at the
end of the month, a week and a half from now. When he
extended his hand to shake mine good bye, I pulled him
into a hug and kissed him on the cheek by way of
thanks. He was a good manager, none of this was his
fault. He could have saved the company thousands of
dollars by simply accepting my resignation. He had
gone to bat for me without my knowing it, and got me
severance pay. Months later, when his turn came to be
down-sized, Jack was able to find a suitable place for
him in his department.

	My career came to a sudden and inglorious end, and I
accepted it without the slightest thought of what I
really wanted. Being home all day did have it's good
side. I was able to devote enough time to my exercise
program, and my body quickly started to regain it's
tone. I had the time to go through my clothes and
remove the things a slave was not allowed to wear. I
did house work, and this left more time in the evening
for sex. I worked in the garden, and even redecorated
the spare bedrooms. There was only enough money to do
three rooms, so I very quickly ran out of things to do
with my time. Since there was only the two of us, I
could do all the house work in one day. After all,
with me constantly naked, there was little laundry to
do. I could keep the house spick-and-span with only an
hour's work the rest of the days. An hour in the late
afternoon was all that was needed to have dinner ready
for my master when he got home. I was getting bored.
So bored that I finally complained to Jack. 

	"Be patient," he said simply, "I'll think of
something." He spent most of the weekend working in
the study, and I spent the same time on my knees naked
and helpless beside his chair, within reach of his
hands. Monday was my busy day, I didn't think about my
boredom at all in the morning. It wasn't until the
afternoon that I found myself in our bedroom, with
nipples and pubic lips clamped, masturbating with a
vibrator. I had been masturbating a lot lately, using
sex to fight off boredom. 

	"Do you have anything important to do today?" Jack
asked after breakfast, Tuesday. "Well follow me then."
He said after I shook my head sadly. He took me down
to our bondage playroom in the basement, and fastened
me spread out on my back on a table. He took me
roughly, using both my vagina and rectum, and shooting
off in my mouth. I had several orgasms, two at least.
I really enjoyed this kind of sex, and I was so high I
really lost track. After he calmed down, he finished
his work on me. Small suction cups with wires attached
were stuck to either side of each nipple and my
clitoris.

	"What are those for master?" I asked, trembling. We
had never used anything like this before.

	"You'll see soon enough slave," he answered as he
inserted a vibrator with wires attached, completely
into my vagina. 

	"Aren't you going to work today master?" I asked,
scared now that I was to be left alone and in bondage
for the whole day.

	"Yes I am slave," he answered as he put a gag into my
mouth and fastened it behind my neck. I soon
discovered it wasn't much of a gag, because I could
still make a lot of sound, and even breathe through
the hole in it. Since it filled my mouth and depressed
my tongue, so I couldn't form words. "But you're not
going to be alone for long. See that camera?" He said
pointing to the ceiling above me. "It and everything
else is hooked up to this computer. When I get to
work, I'll be able to connect to it through the
internet, and I'll be watching you and listening to
you all day. I can also control the speed of the
vibrator, and a few other surprises I've got  in store
for you. When you feel the vibrator speed go up and
slow down, three times very quickly, followed by three
times slowly, you'll know I've taken control of it
from work. Everything you feel after that, will also
be coming from me. I'll see you later. Don't worry
about dinner. I'll pick up something on the way home."
He said as he disappeared out the door. 

	I lay there in fairly comfortable, for now, bondage,
and didn't even think about protesting or complaining.
If this is what Jack wanted, then this is what will be
done. I was aroused, very aroused.  But it was a
combination of things that brought off my first
orgasm. There was the vibrator of course, but it
wasn't going fast enough to bring me off by itself.
There was also the indignity of my bondage. The thrill
of the potential danger I was in should a burglar
break in, or the house catch fire, added a lot. The
pain from the cramping of the muscles in my unmovable
limbs was the final stimulus that powered my orgasm.
It was so intense that it left me exhausted, and I
soon fell asleep with the vibrator lightly humming
away inside me.

	The vibrator suddenly accelerating to full speed,
roused me from my stupor. It decelerated, just as
quickly, then repeated the pattern two more times. Now
it was slowly speeding up again. Jack had said,  up
and down quickly three times, then slowly three times.
I silently kept count, "two, three. Yes! This was
amazing." Jack was miles away in the city, and somehow
he's rigged it so that he can control the speed of a
vibrator inside my vagina. He also said he could see
me, and hear me. Jack had developed the software to
not only show live video in real time, but also give
him real time control of devices at a remote location
over the internet. He was way ahead of his time. I
tried to smile with my eyes as I let out a long
guttural moan to show him how aroused I was. It was
followed by an involuntary high pitched EeeeK-Ah, as a
jolt shot through my insides. My body twitched
violently. It also caused my bladder to contract, and
a jet of urine sprayed out of me. The pain and the
humiliation raised my arousal to new heights. Again
that involuntary EeeeK-Ah, as pain throbbed in my
right breast. It felt like I had been hit by a
baseball bat. It subsided very quickly, only to be
followed by the same thing in my left breast. Again
the EeeeK-Ah was forced from my throat. And yet again
as the imaginary baseball bat smashed into my
clitoris. In between there was that guttural moan, it
was just as involuntary. I had lost control of my
body. It was running on auto pilot soaring to an earth
shattering orgasm. As I was just starting to come down
from this high, I suddenly rocketed into another
lesser orgasm as I realized that I was being fucked by
remote control.  

	This went on for the rest of the day. On, not
continuously, Jack was at work after all, and he had
work to do, but it was frequently enough to keep me
constantly high. That imaginary baseball bat would
smash into me at random. Three times in a row in my
left breast, then nothing for several moments.
Suddenly my body would twitch, and I would scream out
as my urine sprayed out again, then before I could
recover from this the baseball bat would strike my
clitoris three or four times in rapid succession, and
I'd be in the throws of another orgasm. All this would
happen in the space of two or three minutes. 
Sometimes it went on for longer. On reflection at a
later time I assumed that he may have been on the
phone talking with someone, and he was merely playing
with my body just as one would doodle absent-mindedly.
I eventually lost track of what was happening to me.
The individual details seemed to blend together into
one sensation. I had stopped thinking and I was only
feeling. I remember a huge climax, but I don't
remember coming down from it. My orgasm just went on
and on. I was fully conscience, but I was only
conscience of the feeling of the orgasm. I felt
nothing else, I heard nothing and I saw nothing. 

	Looking back now I realize that I had overdosed on
sex. That was the first time, but it wouldn't be the
last. I awoke with a start. I was in our bed,
unfettered, and it was bright daylight. I sat up and
looked around to make sure I wasn't just dreaming.

	"Oh you're awake," Jack said. "How do you feel?" I
tried to speak but my throat was too sore. "Here, sip
some of this. You screamed yourself hoarse,
yesterday." I sipped.

	"Thank you." I whispered hoarsely. "I think I'm OK.
What happened?"

	"Don't try to talk too much, yet. You had quite a
day. You had a huge orgasm just after three o'clock
and you didn't stop coming until almost midnight, even
though I stopped all the stimuli at four-thirty. I
left work then, you were still coming when I got home,
and still coming when I put you to bed. You came down
just before midnigh, then curled up and fell asleep."

	"Please, master?" I croaked. "Please fuck me. Now!" I
demanded throwing off the bed sheet and spreading my
legs wide. Listening to him describe what had
happened, brought it all back to me and I was suddenly
so aroused, that I couldn't stand it.  Before I
realized it my hand was already between my legs. Jack
started to make love to me, but I ended up raping him.
I was insatiable, and came at least three times,
before I fell asleep again. I woke up to the smell of
coffee. As my head cleared and the memory came
flooding back, my arousal soared again, but Jack
wasn't with me. Instinctively my hand moved to my
clitoris, but I couldn't seem to reach the climax. I
tried pinching myself in all my sensitive places, and
it helped a bit. It still wasn't enough. The smell of
bacon wafted into the room, and immediately my stomach
remembered that I hadn't eaten anything since
breakfast yesterday. My body was racked by fierce
hunger pangs. This new pain was enough to give me my
climax. I curled up into a tight ball and waited for
my body to calm down enough so that I could get to the
kitchen and get some food..

	"I was just going to bring you a tray." Jack said
when he saw me stagger into the kitchen. He dropped
what he was doing and came to me. He picked me up and
carried me to the table and placed me in a chair.
Seeing how weak I was, he hand fed me, slowly so I
wouldn't overwhelm my digestive system.  In between
each forkfull, I had to drink orange juice. I ended up
drinking a quart of it all together.

	"What time is it?" I asked after I had eaten enough
to make the hunger pangs go away.

	"It's about a quarter after ten."

	"Is it Wednesday?"

	"Yes," Jack laughed, "you weren't out of it for that
long"

	"Shouldn't you be at work?"

	"No I have a couple of lieu days coming to me, I had
arranged to take today off last week."

	"I see, so you're not staying home just because of me
then."

	"Well I am actually, I have the day off from work. It
doesn't mean that I had planned to stay home. I
thought you might enjoy going somewhere together for
the day. You know help you relieve some of the
boredom."

	"That would be nice, maybe this afternoon. Did you
have anything in mind?"

	"Well for starters, we need a new computer. The old
one is really quite obsolete."

	"Why, what more did you plan to do with it?"

	"Not me," he laughed. "It's too obsolete for what
you're going to be doing with it."

	"I don't follow you."

	"Well I've been thinking about your boredom problem.
Yesterday was a good solution, but it isn't something
you'd want to do every day, so....."

	"You wanna' bet." I interrupted with a wicket grin.

	"Well I don't think your body could take it if you
did it every day, at least not right off the bat." he
laughed, "You'll have to build up to it. But
seriously, how would you like to do some free lance
work, here at home?"

	"You mean computer work? Yes I'd be interested if
it's challenging enough. I'm not interested in just
doing data entry or something like that."

	"I wouldn't insult your intelligence like that
sweetheart. We have a piece of software that's very
important to the company, but we need to adapt it to
changing needs. We know what we want it to do, and we
know how to make it do it, or at least we think we
know, but it just doesn't work. It keeps hanging up.
I've had three of my best people work on it and they
can't sort it out. I'm too busy to look into it myself
at the moment. I thought you might like to have a go
at sorting it out."


	"It sounds interesting."

	"The company'll pay you ten thousand dollars if you
can do it."

	"Wow. How much time have I got?"

	"Until I can find the time to get on to it myself, or
one of our people works it out on their own time. A
couple of weeks I should think. Listen, if you do
this, I'll probably be able to direct other small
projects your way. What do you say?"

	"Yes certainly I'd love to give it a try. Tell me
more about the problem."

	"Not right now. We need to talk about yesterday
first."

	"What's there to talk about? I'm yours to do with as
you like. If you want to fuck me by remote control
then that's the way it will be."

	"I was only trying to keep you from being bored."

	"Well you succeeded, I can tell you that I wasn't
bored for even a moment. Did you enjoy watching me
piss myself at your command?"

	"Actually I was really surprised by that reaction,"
he laughed, "but I have to admit that I found it very
erotic. Not just the urinating, but the fact that with
just the click of a mouse I could do things to your
helpless body. Unfortunately I also found it
frustrating. I'm afraid I made twice my usual trips to
the washroom yesterday."

	"So what do you want to discuss about yesterday?"

	"Well are you OK with it? Did it do anything for you?
I guess what I'm trying to say is, did you consider it
a reward or a punishment?"

	"Well there was a lot of pain, not to mention the
humiliation. Some women might even consider it
torture, but for me it was the most orgasmic time I've
ever had."

	"I'm glad to hear that, but I'm afraid we can't do it
again for a while, until I've worked something out."

	"Why what's the problem?"

	"I was a real idiot, that's what. I completely
ignored your health. It's bad enough you didn't get
any food all day, but you didn't get any fluids
either. With all that urinating, you came very close
to being dangerously dehydrated. I have to figure out
some way to give you access to some liquids without
drowning you in the process. I'm sure I'll have
something worked out by the time you get bored again.
Have you had enough to eat."

	"I've had enough breakfast, but I haven't had enough
to eat," I smirked as I went to my knees between his
legs. "Please come in my mouth master," I begged. I
was so aroused again, it was like I haven't had sex
for months. He opened his robe and I went to work on
him like I know he likes it. When I couldn't hold back
any longer, I jumped on his lap with his penis inside
me. I climaxed twice in rapid succession, then I went
back on my knees and used my mouth to give him his
release. I swallowed every drop that he gave me, and
was thankful for it.

	"You didn't ask permission to do that, slave." Jack
said after he had caught his breath.

	"I'm sorry master, I don't know what came over me, I
was so aroused  I couldn't think straight. I'm ready
to take my punishment now master."

	"And so you will. To the basement with you slave!" I
was made to stand on a small stool with my arms at my
side, and my back against one of the cold steel pipe
posts that held up the main beam of the house. God I
hated what was coming. After inserting a plastic tube
in each of my nostrils, he started to wrap me in
transparent plastic. The roll was eighteen inches
wide, and he wrapped me tightly, trapping my arms and
forcing me to stand perfectly straight as my back was
pressed to the post. When he had wrapped me from the
waist up to the top of my head, so that I was
breathing through the tubes in my nostrils, he
stopped. Kneeling at my feet, he removed the stool
from beneath me, suspending me by the wrapping around
my torso. I Placed a leg on each side of the post. He
held a thick sponge between each ankle and the post,
until I pressed my legs inward trapping the sponges.
Then he wrapped my bottom half. A few seconds later I
felt the heat of the hair drier.

	This was the part I hated. As the plastic warmed up
it shrank and tightened on me, pressing me tightly to
the post. What I hated most was that he didn't heat
the plastic enough to really tighten, to actually be
painful. To squeeze my chest and make breathing
difficult. He tightened it only enough so that I was
held there immobile. That's what made it a punishment.
I was trapped there, but there was no pain, no
discomfort, no humiliation. My eyes were closed, of
course, so I was as good as alone. There was nothing I
could use to get high on.

	If he had whipped me, I would have climaxed on the
pain. He knew that, that's why he left me like this.
Left me to think about my error. All that I could
think about was yesterday, and what an emotional high
it had been. I couldn't help comparing it to what I
was feeling then, which was nothing. Well I was a
little on the warm side, in fact I was already
sweating and the sweat was literally running down my
body in the small channels left where the plastic
stretched over places like where my arm met my body
and left a small air space. The sponges protecting my
ankles from the post were already sopping wet. Inspite
of this I wasn't uncomfortable. I could do nothing
except think. I was reminded of the silly joke. "What
do you do to  make a masochist feel really bad?
Nothing." After what seemed like hours I fell asleep


		

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