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Saving Money

I hate my husband. Now don't get me wrong, I love him as much as
I ever have, maybe even more. And he is very kind and caring, in his
own special way. But I still hate him. But maybe I should explain a
bit.

It was a Monday not long after Christmas that I came home early
from work. Chet was there telecommuting, he works as a contract
programmer and since we live way out in the middle of nowhere they
always let him stay home. I think it's just because he is grumpy
from the commute in and let them know it, a poster boy for passive
aggressiveness if there ever was one.

"Your home early, and I have never seen you that unhappy. What's
up?" he asked in an innocent voice. But after the day I had it
definitly sounded mean and insulting.

"That court case I told you about? Well the verdict came in and
they had to shutdown the place and sell off everything of value. And
I really liked working there."

"You really liked tormenting the men and half the women there you
meanie," again with an innocent voice plus a sweet smile. Simply
infuriating. So I slapped him. It was the first time I had ever hit
anything or anybody, insects don't count. And I definitely regretted
it as I was swinging.

"You don't need a job anymore anyway," he said picking up his
glasses. "I can support us if we don't get to extravagent. And I
have just the thing for you to do in your spare time."

I knew he had a stun gun. I just never thought he would use it
on me. I fell into his arms and he carried me to the bedroom. He
threw me on the bed and hit me with the gun again as I made to move
off the other side. I laid there, motionless, waiting for him, even
after the effects of the stun gun had worn off. He dug through our
play box at the end of the bed. He had made it himself. All cedar
with a rounded top and this strip on the edges. The strip was
screwed to these little spacer blocks making little spaces so that
you could clip things to the strips or tie things to it with a rope.
The inside was large enough for me to lay down flat in it, or he
could put in these little dividers and I would be in doubled over or
forced into this little ball. The top was even split so he could
shut me in part of it and leave the other parts open. He had made
several dividers some of them in peices with holes so he could put me
through the dividers like they were stocks. For a second it looked
like he was emptying it out to put me in but he then put much of
contents back.

He had kept out my "fancy" collar, the one I wore when he took me
out on display. It was about 3 inches wide and had D-rings every few
inches, held on by the strap that wrapped all the way around it
through the belt loops. There were also matching cuffs for my
elbows, wrists, ankles and thighs, but I had only worn them once. He
put the collar on me and locked the short chain that was attached to
the center of the headboard. Then he began to strip me. I resisted
in no way but neither did I help him, he still had the stun gun and I
did not want that feeling again. It did not take long as I was not
wearing much, something he makes sure is always the case. Except
when he dresses me in way to much clothing. Like last years
halloween costume, a victorian formal dress with all the trimmings.
He had even tugged and tugged on the laces to the corset until my 25
inch waist was down to 18 inches on the out side, 17 on the inside he
had said. I fainted several times at the party we had gone to, much
to his delight. Once I was naked and placed each cuff on me,
tightened them to the fullest, and put a small brass lock through the
buckle to make sure they would not accidently come loose. Then he
held up a belt. It matched my cuffs and collar to a T except it was
6 inches wide and had 3 straps run through the belt loops on it.

"This belt will fit a 23 inch waist perfectly. Yours will be a
little incomfortable in it." Still had that innocent tone of voice,
but the sneer and the look in his eyes told an entirely different
story. The belt was then fastened about my waist and when he was
satisfied it was properly tightened, he moved my arms and legs into
the position he wanted, sort of a loose speadeasgle. That had me
worried, his bondage was never loose and if he laid me there loosly
then the bondage was going to make sure I was not going to move.
Anything.

First he fastened a rope between my ankle cuffs, moving them a
bit closer together but still wide spread. Then a rope attached my
Thigh cuffs together but there was quite a bit of slack. Uh oh.
Then came the rope between my wrist cuffs with a qick pass through a
ring in the middle of the head board. Finally he fastened a rope
between my elbow cuffs, positioning it so that it ran straight from
one cuff through my mouth and to the other cuff. One I was
positioned correctly he undid the rope from the cuffs and produced
the plug gag attachment. It did not have much for straps on either
end because it was made to fit any of the many hoods, helmets, and
head harnesses he had made for me. A pair of short pieces of rope
connected my gag to my elbow cuffs. Then he hauled out two of the
longest ropes we had in the play chest. He tied one end to the ring
on the outside of my right ankle cuffs. The loose end went through a
ring at the right foot of the bed, then up through a ring on the
outside of my thight cuffs and then out over the right edge of the
bed through and attached D-ring. From that D-ring he came back up to
the belt and through two of the rings on the right side and back down
over the edge of the bed to another attched ring. Then finaly up to
a ring in the right side of the head board and down to my right wirst
cuff where it was tied off. The left side was similarly laced and
since there was much slack left I wondered what he was up to. He
smiled at the curious look on my face and reached to where the rope
was looped through two loops at the belt. He took ahold of the rope
between the rings and pulled. The slack in the rope was being taken
out of the left rope, enough slack so that it led down off the edge
of the bed. I heard him doing something down there, but could not
make out what until I heard the clickes. He had attached the slack
rope to two of the comealongs we had to help stretch me out in a
hanging spread eagle. Once it was lightly tightened he walked around
to the right and did the same thing. Then he stood at the end of the
bed and carefully made sure I was centered to his liking. I was so
he simply looked at me and smiled.

"Ready for the final bit now sweetheart?" he asked rhetorically
in that same innocent voice. I nodded my head as seductively as
possible hoping for a repreive. None came.

Click click click on the right.

Click clock click on the left.

This was gonna hurt for a while. Not much. But I was definitly
gong to make it hurt more. He knows I can help but think about the
discomfort he causes me. It never is really enough to do much more
then keeping me awake and listening to my body for the crack of bone
I always thought was coming. He never ever took anything that far.
But my mind lied to me about everything and we had played enough that
he knew what I thought.

Click click click on the right.

Click click click on the left.

"Almost there honey. I can't wait. Can you?" Still innocent
but I could hear the teasing start to come into his voice. That
teasing kept me awake on some nights, and not because he was saying a
word or that I was even tied up. I just thought about it. Like the
time he tied me to a chair so that I could not move a muscle and he
kept of a running commentary on what he was doing.

"I am walking over to the table now, boy it sure feels good to

stretch me legs after sitting for so long." He had not been sitting
for more then half a minute. I felt my legs cramping. At least in
my mind, in reality there were no cramps.

"Oops. This light on the ceiling is burnt out. Better change
it. Ahh. That is a stretch. I suppose I should get out the step
ladder but it feesl soooo good to strech like this." Grrrrr. My
slightly arched back began to spasm. In my mind.

Once he had let me go from that chair I was up all night moving
and stretching. In and out of bed. Until he put a cuff on my wrist
and locked it to the chain. I still moved and stretched in the bed,
until he grew tired of it and chained my wrist to the bottom of the
footboars and left me to sleep on the floor. I nodded off just as he
was waking up and he left me there to sleep on the floor for the rest
of the day. I was up all night because he had let me sleep. It was
a week before my body clock had readjusted itself to my normal
schedule.

Click. Grunt. Click. Grunt. Click. He was faking those
grunts. He certainly wasn't straining agaist the comealongs.

Click. Grunt. Click. Grunt. Click. I would have definitly
screamed were in not for the gag. Not from anything physical. My
mind was just doing mach 6. And from experience I knew it would not
be slowing down.

"Let's see what you can move."

I lay still hoping to fake him into thinking it was tight.

"I have a feather here if I think you need help with the test."

What do you know. I can still move both my arms and legs. And
very enthusiastically too.

Click click click. Slower now. It was getting tougher for him
to tighten it.

Click click click. Even slower on that side. He just held
up the feather and I tried squirming. Only my hands and feet moved
that time. I could feel myself sunk several inches into the bed.

"Well. You appear secure at the moment. I have a few hours of
work to do then I will cook supper. I'll be back to let you up to
serve it."

He left the room closing and locking it as he went. He had even
had special locks put in, louder then any I had ever heard before.
He should have been a psychiatrist, but he is really not a people
person.

That night I was ready to run a pair of marathins back to back I
wanted to move so bad. But he only dressed me in my maids outfit and
had me serve him dinner. Once he was done I was tied to the table
and he served me dinner. Tiny little bite by tiny little bite. I
have been bound in one way or the other every dya since. Sometimes I
am his secretary bound to the desk. On top for decoration,
underneath for recreation. Other time he puts me in a maid's outfit
and chains me to the vacuum cleaner. I have to yell each time I need
to change where it is plugged in at. I certainly cannot bend over in
the "figure training garment" he put on me under the maid's outfit, I
can hardly walk.

That lasted until I complained about needing to get out of the
house once in a while. He obliged me by dressing my like a pony and
tying me to a merry-go-round. He had this gadet that measured how
far you walked. If did not cover enough gorund fast enough it beeped
at you. Or atleast it used to. Now it triggered the box he had made
that gave various shocks to various part of my anatomy as well as
activating the vibrator he had put in me or the expanding butt plug
he had ordered from this catalog. Of course since we were saving
money he "had" to use AC powered toys instead of battery powered
toys.

This propbaly sounds like we were spending money left and right
for my restraints and toys huh? Nope. Most of it we had already.
what we didn't he made for cheap. I liked being outside though. At
least for the first hour. Then I began to tire and the little toys
started thier work. That spurred me on until late afternoon. Then I
just stopped. Didn't move a muscle. The toys got mad. I just
quivered abit. Then they pushed me over the edge and I collapsed
into his arms. He had been watching the whole time. He untied me
from the merry go round and took me into the bed. I slept all that
night and most of the next day. When I awoke I was locked in the
Play chest laid out flat. He had used some of the spacers to hold me
in place. I looked in on me before he went to bed, changing the
diaper I wore since I could not get to the bathroom. I was in that
box for days only seeing his face every so often as he ckecked on me.
I had actually started hating him within a month after I had lost my
job. The hate just developed more and more. As did the love. He
loved me enough to take the time to do all this to me. I was never
going to even conradict him let alone raise a hand to him.

Once I was let out of the play chest he admitted he was starting
to run out of ideas. So I gave him some, told him what I liked and
disliked about what he had done so far. I am now tied outside every
other day. Sometimes tied to a tree. Sometimes chained to a post in
the yard with many yards of chain. A few times he has even put my
least favorite disipline helmet on me, the one with only nose holes.
It had a collar on it which could be locked so he did not bother to
restrain me in any other way besides putting me in a dog run we had
in the back yard. I was large enough for me to stand in. I used one
corner for a toilet and slept for a bit in another. After a few
lifetimes he brough me in for dinner. The next day I was tied to my
bed just like I was the first night. And through it all we never
slept for half the night. Mostly because I just wanted to fuck. And
he let me. That was just his way. I was the one to start it and the
one to do all the work. Helped keep me in line he said. Good girls
don't act like nymphomanics.

That was almost a year ago. I have not seen anybody but him
since then. But many many people have seen me. He takes pictures.
Lots and lots of pictures. Once a week he develops them and once a
week I scan them into the computer. Then he picks a few each day to
post. That is what I was going to do today. but he had other plans.
He had gotten a new toy from one of his employers. This head mounted
monitor. It shot a beam of light into your eye and made it look like
you were watching a screen the size of a car. I had used it a bit
before and it was fun. But today he had plans for me, and the
monitor, and whatever was in this box that had arrived a few days
ago.

He stood me beside the computer and wheeled in the slant board he
used the time he wrapped me from head to toe in saranwrap. It wasn't
so bad until he put the heat lamps on me. The saranwrap shrunk abit
and then it started to get hot. He had them on timer so I could cool
off for a bit before the came on again. He did not let me out of the
wrappings until the next morning. Just poked a hole to feed me
through and laid me in bed next to him when he went to bed. But that
wasn't his plan for today. Today he was going to use whatever was in
that box. And what was in it was a georgous pink leather bodybag.
It was obviously made to my exact size. It laced up the front and
there were these flaps along the sides two on each side. He laid it
out on the slant board using a couple of the rings that were all over
it to hold it in place. He helped me to step into the foot area and
lay into the bag. Then I figured out what those flaps were for. Two
came up between my legs from my ankles to my crotch. A zipper was
used to fasten each flap to the outside of the bag forcing my legs
into place. There was a flap for each arm as well although when
those were zipped up my arms were just a bit under my torso. There
was also an inside collar which he fastened just before he pulled the
attached hood over my head. There was a good size plug gag for my
mouth, a couple of air tubes for my nose and built in earplugs.
There was also an oval shaped hole that went over my eyes leaving
them free to see. Chet began lacing the bag up starting at the toes.
The first few laces forced me feet into a bit of an arch. He worked
at the laces for quite a while before he reached my breasts. He
tugged them through a pair of reinforced holes that constricted them
at the base. When he had finally gotten to my neck he stopped and
began on the hood. He tightened those laces so tight I almost
thought the hood would become part of me. Then he finished off the
last bit of the laces on the body part bacause they went over the
bottom of the hood. Then I felt some sort of bag like thing over my
breasts and it was growing thighter. My nipple were poking out the
end still and Chet held up a mirror so I caould see what he had done.
On the outside of the hole he had pulled my breasts through was what
looked to be a drawstring bag. And he had tightened them enough so
that my nipples were poking out of them. I pulled on some straps
that were attached to my shoulders and I slid up the slant board.
After a couple of pulls I was appearently far enough up for him
because I saw him duck and felt my ankle being bound down to the
slant board. Then I felt my toes be drawn down to the end of the
slant board forcing my feet into an enpointe position. Then he
worked he way up fastening me tighter and tighter to the slantboard.

Finally he put the head mounted monitor on me and I saw a
directory of nothing but pictures he had taken of me and I had
scanned. The status bar of the window said there were over 10,000
files. Then Chet spoke directly into my ears.

"Today you will see all of the picures we have of you. I would
get comfortable if I were you becuase it will take you almost 10
hours to get through them all. And just for fun I have here a
looping tape of women in the throes of passion for you to listen to.
Have fun."

So here I am. Bound to a point quite a ways beyond immobilty and
so damn horny it will take days for me to be sated. Now I hope you
understand why I hate my husband so. Wait a sec. This is not a
picture. This says I am only a quarter of the way though. That
cannot be right. I must be almost done. I must let Chet no
something is wrong. But I'll do that after I finish this set. I
loved that time. I just wish I could actually come.

Thatmeanassfuckingsonofabitch.Iamgonnafuckhimfordays.

Hope he is resting up.

Fini

Copyright 1997 Mark of Tasvalta

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