Chapter Eleven
That week was not one of the more pleasant weeks in my experience at Chez Ash.
The builders arrived the day following the inspection and commenced ripping the
upstairs area apart. Ash was at work, and was obviously well aware that I was
potentially able to try to attract the attention of the newcomers. That was the
theory, anyway. And it wasn't going to happen. Aside from the fact that there
was enough noise going on with the renovation such that any moan or squeak that
emanated from my person would be lost in the general din, Ash made very sure
that I was in no position to contribute to the noise levels themselves.
My previous experience of being bound to the post was the forerunner of a series
of such trials, but had only lasted a couple of hours. Ash evidently found it
appropriate to vary my positions if only just for a change, but they were harsh
in that they lasted a whole day and invariably totally immobilised me. As for
the first one, I was at least thankful that I did not have to suffer the clamps,
clips and inserts that Ash was so fond of, and thus my direct pain level was
lowered. But the endless hours of being bound in one position unable to move
took their toll on me, both physically and mentally.
My first day was in some ways a relatively easy one in that I was bound on my
back on the bed, spreadeagled. It was not a particularly imaginative position,
but it was very effective. My wrists and ankles received leather cuffs which
were tightly anchored to the four corners of the bed. Not content with this,
further straps were placed around my thighs just above my knees, and these were
similarly secured with cords to the bed frame. Ropes were likewise attached to
my steel waist belt on each side, and I knew it was going to be a long day. But
at that stage I did not know how quiet.
Ash pulled a rubber bathing cap over my hair before stuffing a rubber ball in my
mouth. It was not as large as some I had experienced, and I could almost close
my mouth over it. When I did, my tongue was effectively silenced, and this was
ensured by the multiple turns of silver duct tape he wound around my head,
drawing my jaw shut and covering my mouth. I had expected this. What I had not
expected was the gas mask he produced at that point. It was bizarre, but I soon
saw his logic. It was made of rubber and fitted snugly over my head, being
pulled tight with a number of straps at the back. Not content with that, he
sealed the edges with more duct tape. I was starting to panic at that point,
for it had suddenly become rather claustrophobic in the gloomy world beneath the
mask. The eye plates seemed to be tinted and the smell of the rubber filled my
nostrils. Both my hearing and sight had been substantially reduced now, and my
senses were being dominated by the rasping of my breath and the distant thudding
of the blood in my ears.
I was aware of the breathing tube leading out from the mask, but I had not seen
it connected to anything.
"Can you hear me, Jan?" came Ash's distant voice. I nodded as best I could.
"Good. Let me just explain something. This nice fashion accessory you're
wearing is designed to reduce any noise you may make through that pretty nose of
yours. There is another way to do that, of course, but it tends to be rather
permanent." He chuckled. "There are two tubes leading to your mask, each with a
simple flap at the junction. One is the inlet, the other is the outlet for your
air. There is thus no danger of rebreathing stale air. In simple terms, the
use of this tube will stifle the moaning and carrying on that you are prone to
indulge in. Understand?" I nodded again. "Let's give it a little test, shall
we?" There was a piercing pain as he pinched my nipple hard and twisted it
fiercely. I tried to jerk, but the only part of me I could move was my head,
the rest of my body being immovably secured to the bed. I yowled behind the
tape, but the only noise I could manage came through my nose, to reverberate
inside my mask.
"Very good, Jan. But I want you to really try hard." A double pinch this time
- fingernails biting into the very tip of each nipple. I stiffened as though an
electric shock was passed through my body, but again all movement was
restrained, except for a rolling of my head. Again I made a nasal yowl inside
the mask, which obviously hardly carried into the room.
"Excellent." Ash was evidently really pleased with himself. Predictably my head
was then the last thing to be secured, as further ropes were attached to the
steel collar about my neck and two final cords were tied to the top straps on
the mask and tethered to the bed head.
"See you tonight, Jan. Behave yourself."
* * *
For some reason Ash had left the light on, but beneath the mask and behind the
dark lenses I could dimly make out the floor joists above me that formed the
extent of my visible world. I could turn my head only a small amount, and could
not lift it at all. The rest of my body was totally immovable save my feet and
hands.
I could hear the men walking about above, but the sound was indistinct. There
was intermittent banging and crashing, which I presumed was the removal of
existing cupboards and other fittings. Beneath the rubber and duct tape I could
not distinguish voices, and the initial feeble moans I managed clearly went
nowhere. I thought about these men - symbols of outside normality - going about
their work unaware of the prisoner lying bound to the bed in the room below,
silenced and unable to communicate by other than wishful thoughts.
I presumed Ash had removed the anchor wire down the hallway. That might have
been hard to explain away, otherwise. My mind went over and over the connecting
tongue of steel inside the housing, and how and when I might cut through it.
The thought excited and petrified me. Ash would kill me if I got caught.
The lack of stimulation in my world had the inevitable consequence of sending me
into subspace, then to sleep. I awoke intermittently, usually through some
overly loud noise, such as some of the rubbish being tossed into a dumpster from
the front balcony. Then I would doze again, only to awake with an ache usually
in my shoulders or hips, caused by the unnatural spread of my limbs and their
lack of movement. It was painful and uncomfortable, but there was absolutely
nothing I could do about it. If Ash was killed in a car crash, I would probably
die here, through dehydration or starvation. Much as I would have liked to see
such a fate befall my captor, I knew I was still dependent on him for my own
wellbeing.
I awoke to silence, and I could only guess that the men had done a day's work.
Ash would soon be home to free me... A long time seemed to pass before I heard
the door open and sensed the presence of my jailor. My release did not come
immediately - not until Ash had taken advantage of my widely spread legs and
exposed sex, first using his fingers until my loins became uncontrollably wet,
then thrusting into me with a vigour I could do nothing to counter. I closed my
eyes and let him pump away, the weight of him on top of my own tied and
spreadeagled body only drawing everything tighter. I was panting and moaning
now under the tape and the mask, partly from the pain of the stretching in my
restraints and partly - I admit - from the arousal between my legs. I confess
to climaxing, even under such circumstances. I could not help myself and saw no
point in fighting it. It did nothing to alter my feelings of loathing towards
Ash, nor did it lessen my desire for revenge. I told myself I could at least
gain some small element of satisfaction out of the indignity I was being forced
into. It was difficult in a way, for I could barely move under the strictures
of the ropes and with Ash on top, but I eventually came, gasping and panting
under the rubber mask and straining against my bonds.
Ash went away to change, the bastard, while I was left just lying there.
Eventually he came back with dinner and released my hands, chaining my collar to
the bed with a long length of chain, then leaving me to free the rest of my
bonds as he turned the lights out and left. I was terribly stiff and ached all
over. I undid the ropes attached to the gas mask straps and gradually worked my
way down my body undoing the straps and finally freeing my ankles. By the time
I had unwound the duct tape from my head my dinner was luke warm, but I was
ravenous as usual. I went to sleep that night wondering how hard this week was
going to be and how long I would have to endure this treatment.
* * *
The presence of the builders, far from being a relief from the monotony of
solitary confinement and offering a chance to make my presence known, was in
fact the opposite. Gone was at least the freedom to walk about my cell, and so
too was the potential for escape from the hallway anchor wire. Instead, I was
forced to endure a series of tight bindings that left me immovable for twelve
hours at a time. At the end of that time my muscles would be screaming for
relief, which was more than I was capable of, for the gagging and the gas mask
became the normal routine.
On what I now recognised as Tuesday, I found myself sitting cross-legged and
bound to the post, my head taped securely and all of me unable to move. Ash
seemed to see the requirement to keep me under control as a challenge to his
ingenuity in providing a variety of immobilising positions that were sustainable
through the day. Wednesday saw me in a facedown letter 'T' 'spreadeagle' on the
bed, my head through the frame at the foot of the bed, and my arms bound along
it. The straps on the gas mask were tied back to the frame, supporting my head,
but it was sill terribly uncomfortable for my neck after a few hours.
By Thursday Ash thought I needed some more variety, and I found myself standing,
my hands crossed and bound behind me and my ankles spread and secured to a bar
and thence to eyebolts in the concrete. Under my armpits and above my breasts
was a thick strap, which was attached to a rope to a pulley overhead, to stop me
falling over. Simple, but very effective. This time it was my legs which were
complaining by the time he released me. His comment that such isometric
exercises should be good for my muscles did nothing to improve my humour.
Friday saw me lying on my side on the bed, bent over with my wrists bound to my
ankles and my elbows to my knees, with of course my body well tied to the bed to
stop any other movement. Friday was pain-in-the-back day. I was not at all
impressed - less so when he told me they had at least three more days work the
following week. I had also mistakenly looked forward to a relatively free
weekend, and my antagonism to Ash and his builders worsened as the crew worked a
half-day. I found myself tied to that hated post again for the duration of
Saturday morning, this time with my knees drawn up under my chin and my wrists
bound in front of my ankles. Each day Ash took advantage of my helplessness to
screw me, either normally or in the arse, depending on my accessibility. I came
to realise the pattern and to spend the day dreading the vulnerability of my
bottom.
I suppose it could be interpreted as remorse on Ash's part for my suffering
during the week that I obtained an hour of liberty on both Saturday and Sunday,
albeit chained to the clothesline, but at least not by my nipples on these
occasions. He explained that there was no point in tidying up inside since the
painters were in the middle of their work in some rooms while the kitchen was
half-finished. I could do nothing more than study further my surroundings and
consider my options for a way out.
I looked at the fence line again. Along the rear boundary there was a gateway
in the mesh fence that I had not noticed before. It was made of pipe with a
mesh infill, and was partly covered by a rampant bougainvillea. I wondered if
it was locked. There seemed to be a break in the undergrowth beyond it, and I
wondered if there was a path leading into the bush reserve. A short distance
beyond the fence the first of a large grove of tall eucalypts towered over the
lower level trees. Maybe this was somewhere I could take refuge.
Ash obviously had no plans for me that weekend - I think he was too busy sorting
out his new decor and refurbishment. I was returned to my cell with no
explanation or conversation being deemed necessary. My reward for compliance
was being able to watch a video and to at least walk about in my cell. With the
use of ropes and tape that Ash had employed of late, I had not had my wrist and
ankle chains on for a week or so, which at least was a small mercy. I tried to
take comfort in these small things and hoped it would continue. As it was I
still wore the steel collar around my neck, to which the chain was locked, and
the steel belt at my waist. Neither of these looked like they would be coming
off in the near future.
* * *
Monday came and went as I spent the day bound immovably to the chair in my cell.
It was perhaps the least uncomfortable position I had been subjected to in that
I could at least move my head - at least that was the theory. The fact was that
if I moved it too much the inlet tube to the gas mask would constrict, for Ash
had cleverly fastened it to the lower part of the chair, and my air supply would
abruptly be cut off. It scared the hell out of me the first time it happened
until I realised what he had done. Just for variety he had also turned the
lights off, leaving me in a black world with only the sound of my own breathing
for company until the workmen arrived. The noise seemed to have subsided now,
and this was the way it was to be for the next two days.
Tuesday found me lying on my back on the bed like a corpse, my wrists bound to
the opposite elbows underneath me, and my body secured to the bed at various
points after my legs had been tied together at ankles and above and below the
knees. Tuesday there was some sort of major event upstairs. There was much
clumping and thumping up the front stairs and I hazarded a guess that whatever
new kitchen fittings Ash had ordered were being delivered and installed. There
were other thumps, too, which could have been rolls of carpet being dropped,
followed by banging that might have been the fitting of the carpet. And it was
all being paid for with my money! The thought made me furious, and I squirmed
in my bindings, snorting in vain under the layers of tape over my mouth.
Wednesday was quieter. There seemed to be fewer people and less banging about.
Ash was not yet running out of ideas as I spent my day in a half-spreadeagle, my
wrists bound to the top corners of the bed while I was bent at the waist, my
ankles in a spreader bar above me. By the time Ash returned my feet had gone to
sleep, as I had done several times during the day, and the predictable fuck was
strange with my lower extremities barely able to be felt.
The rest of the week was almost back to its boring normality, with me left
chained to the post, with the house to myself. I read the thriller Ash had left
me, for the second time, all the while wondering what opportunity might now
exist in the newly refurbished interior above me. Clearly I had lost any chance
of communicating with the workmen - Ash had made very sure of that. It was now
on my own shoulders to escape from this life of slavery which seemed to stretch
out endlessly ahead of me.
* * *
By the time Saturday came around I was nervous with anticipation. I didn't know
what was going to happen but I had been mentally preparing myself for a positive
action if and when the time arose. Would Ash still use the hallway anchor wire?
Would there be a change of routine now? I didn't know. The thought of
rebellion in any form scared the hell out of me. I had received too many brutal
beatings not to understand what would befall me if I got it wrong and fouled up.
Whatever had happened to me in the past would probably be nothing to what Ash
would devise as a punishment for such a flagrant act as trying to escape.
Saturday morning was warm and pleasant when Ash led me out of the dungeon. He
had still not bothered with the previous wrist and ankle chain configuration,
explaining that I had some proper cleaning to do today and that he expected all
surfaces to be reached. That said, the steel ankle cuffs were still locked on,
linked by a half metre hobble chain, the mid-point of which was in turn
connected to the front of my waist belt with another chain. And whatever he
might have thought of the practicalities of reaching high places, he was not
past locking on the stainless steel crotch strap with its two fixed inserts. I
had not experienced them for two weeks and the fullness that accompanied them
was strange and unsettling.
The inside of the kitchen had been transformed since my previous visit. A new
bench and sink, cupboards and floor vinyl made an enormous difference, although
the table and chairs and the small windows detracted from the end result.
Throughout the house was a new Berber carpet and the walls and ceiling were
freshly painted. Everything smelt of paint and carpet - a not unpleasant
combination that gave a newness to the finished look, despite the old furniture.
As I followed Ash down the hall my heart leapt as I saw that he had re-fixed the
anchor wire through the carpet at each end of the hall. Once again one end of
the retractable steel wire was locked to my collar and I was directed to my work
- mainly cleaning up after the builders. There was plaster dust everywhere and
the carpet, though new, needed a good vacuum cleaning.
I resolved to make a break if I possibly could, my expectation being that Ash
would sit down to watch some sport on television during the afternoon. In the
meantime I busied myself in the kitchen, removing the pots, pans and crockery
before cleaning the new cupboard shelves. Ash had evidently put the stuff away
on dusty shelves on the expectation that Slave Jan would be coming in to clean
up after the event. It gave me the perfect excuse to clean out the kitchen
drawers at the same time and to find a pair of heavy scissors that I hoped would
cut through the tongue of the retractable tape where it was connected to the
wire.
The time seemed to go incredibly slowly. Ash wandered in and out of the
kitchen, fixing himself lunch but not offering me anything. I was almost used
to it now. My stomach had shrunk and I had lost a few kilos with the stress and
lack of food, but being in the presence of food that I was not allowed to touch
made things that much harder. It also strengthened my resolve.
I had finished the kitchen and was in the process of dusting the dining room
when I heard the television turned on. I waited until Ash seemed settled and
returned to the kitchen where I extracted the scissors from the drawer. The
blood was pounding in my ears as I crouched with my back to the entrance to the
hall. I could sense my hands starting to tremble as I pulled the wire out of
its housing until it would go no further and the retaining tongue of thin steel
poked out. I gripped the scissors and squeezed the blades over the steel. It
bent and folded between the blades, and when I prised them open again the tape
had bent at right angle, with only a small nick at the edge. If Ash saw the
result of my effort he would know at once what I had done.
I tried again, this time working the tape high up into the jaws of the scissors
and gripping them hard to give a tight shearing surface. The jaws of the
scissors bit into the steel tape, jammed, then sheared through it with a sharp
snap. I froze. I cast a glance over my shoulder, petrified at the thought of
seeing Ash standing there glaring down at me. But the hallway was empty.
I scrabbled about to gather up the seven metres of wire that seemed to have a
life of its own and be everywhere at once. I tiptoed across to the backdoor and
let myself out, cursing the clink of my chains as I went down the stairs to the
little lobby outside the door to my dungeon. I was so scared I almost forgot to
breathe as I let myself out the door at the bottom of the steps. Every second I
was expecting a shout to come, followed by footsteps pounding after me.
I hurried to the side gate in the wooden fence but to my dismay it was locked.
Scurrying back around the house I turned the corner on the opposite side to find
my way blocked by a similar wooden fence without even a gate. It was as tall as
I was, with pointed tops to the palings, and I knew I wasn't going to get over
it. My only chance was the gate in the mesh fence at the bottom of the garden.
I crossed the lawn with a clinking of chains that seemed inordinately loud in
the warm afternoon. Inside me the dildo and butt plug moved about
disconcertingly. I reached the gate and tried it, then noticing the chain
locked around the gate rail and the fence post. But this situation was a tad
easier, for the gate was only chest high and I could climb up the mesh. I was
about to climb the gate when the dreaded shout came from the house. As if my
heart wasn't going fast enough, it now doubled its rate as I panicked in my
efforts, my feet getting tangled in the hobble chain as I started to work my way
up the gate. I could not swing my leading leg over easily until I was lying
down along the top rail, resting on the steel crotch strap that pushed the dildo
further inside. At that point I fell awkwardly on the ground on the other side,
trailing the wire still connected to my collar and giving the butt plug a sharp
push.
The slam of the door at the foot of the stairs was followed by shouted curses
and threats from Ash as he started across the lawn. I grabbed the wire and ran,
stumbling along a narrow track through the undergrowth as best I could with the
chain catching on branches and weeds. My feet hurt on sticks and thorns but I
was barely aware of this. Several times I stumbled as my surroundings became
denser on each side of the path. I knew I couldn't hope to stay ahead of Ash,
and I thought I heard a crash not too far behind as he cleared the gate. I was
desperate and took the only action I could think of.
Stepping off to the left of the track in the midst of the grove of tall
eucalypts I had seen from the garden, I wrapped the loose end of my neck wire
around the base of a small tree and crossed over the path again, wrapping the
wire again around a root before crouching behind the trunk of a gum. Without
thinking I picked up one of the many dead branches that littered the ground,
just as there was a pounding along the track behind me.
I crouched, terrified out of my mind as the running came closer. I knew I would
only get one chance at this, and I tightened the trip wire as I thought my
pursuer was almost on top of me. The wire was fine enough to be almost
invisible, and Ash caught one foot in it while travelling at full tilt. He went
sprawling, trailing the wire which tore out the root between me and the path,
and jerking me towards him. I went with the movement, swinging the broken
branch with a fury I would not have thought myself capable of.
Ash had fallen half on his side and he looked up just in time to see me swinging
the branch at him. He raised his right arm to deflect the branch which caught
him hard on the elbow, eliciting a cry of pain from him. His arm appeared to go
limp as he rolled away to try to avoid my next blow. I knew I could not let up
- I had to keep at him and not give him a moment to collect himself. The second
blow landed on the side of his head, all but knocking him senseless. He was
lying there, groaning when my branch struck his head again, and he went quiet.
I stood there, gasping for breath, my head ringing and my chest heaving, the
blood pounding in my ears. I was shaking all over from fear and exertion, while
adrenalin coursed through my body. I had not anticipated a situation like this.
I had envisioned escaping and somehow running out into the street to flag down a
passing car or pedestrian. I had not seen myself crouching over an unconscious
man in the middle of the bush. I had no idea where the path led or which was
the direction to head to even find the road.
I must have squatted there for five minutes, my head down, striving to regain
control of my faculties. It dawned on me to check Ash's pulse. I had at least
not killed him, and he showed signs of stirring. I searched his pockets and
came up with the small bunch of keys I knew he carried for my express benefit.
With stuttering fingers I found the key that unlocked the steel cuffs on my
ankles and the chain at my waist. Without really thinking I tried one cuff on
Ash's wrist and found it an adequate fit. I locked it on and pulled the wrist
across his back as far as it would go. I reckoned the chain was just long
enough to pass underneath him so I could then cuff the opposite wrist.
I was right, and before I realised it, Ash was chained up extremely securely,
and the tables were suddenly turned. I unlocked the wire from my collar and sat
down against the trunk of the tree I had hidden behind, letting my heartbeat
slowly subside. The situation had become abruptly different - like nothing I
had expected, and now I had to decide what to do with my ex-captor. I elected
to take things a bit at a time, as Ash began to groan and slowly shake his head.
He turned and glared at me as a trickle of blood ran down his right temple.
"You bitch - I think you've broken my arm! Now what do you think you're going
to do?" he snarled.
"I-I don't know yet," I said, finding my throat dry. "I think you'll keep while
I decide what ought to be done."
"Undo these cuffs now and I'll be lenient on you," he demanded.
"Yeah, right," I sneered back. "You're a man of your word and you have a real
good track record. Get up, you shit!" I stood up and prodded him with my
branch. He took a long time before eventually struggling to his feet. His
expression was black as he attempted to stare me down.
"You want this stick up your arse or a whack on that arm of yours?" I asked,
with a confidence I really didn't feel.
Glowering, he turned and walked unsteadily back up the path until we reached
the gate. I checked the keys and found one that fitted the padlock, ushering my
new captive through then across the lawn. I took him into the dungeon and
locked a short chain around his neck, then locking the loose end around the
post.
"See ya," I told him, as I turned for the door. My statement brought forth a
torrent of abuse which I admit finally got to me. I opened the cabinet which
used to fill me with such dread, and took out a ball and a roll of duct tape.
Within two minutes Ash was silent and blind, the ball securely taped in his
mouth, with his eyes also covered with the tape. It was a messy-looking job,
and I knew I could have made it tidier, but right then I did not care.
I slammed the door behind me as I left the dungeon, the keys still clutched in
my hand, and made my way upstairs. I was still shaky and at this stage was
almost running on autopilot. In the bathroom I removed the crotch strap and
savoured the luxury of the first hot shower I had experienced in almost three
months. Then, as I stood in the shower I began to cry. I couldn't explain it
other than the overwhelming release from the stress and terror that had lain
with me for so long. I now knew there was an end in sight, although it was
beyond me at that stage to even consider what that might be. All I knew was that
I was out of that dungeon and the monster who had imprisoned me there was now my
victim.
I sat in the shower until the water ran cold. I sobbed my heart out in a kind
of cathartic reaction, I guess. I could now let my feelings out without having
to retain my strength for further unknown horrors still to come - horrors that
had seemed to stretch out indefinitely ahead of me at one stage, when I had
become Ash's plaything, hung from ropes in his private domain. He had abused me
to the extent that I had almost come to accept it, but now I found that I could
not wash the unclean feeling away. Something had changed within me that could
not be changed back.
What was I to do with my life - or the absence of one - now?
* * *
