It must have been about 10 to 10 30 in the morning by now. After Sir had virtually hanged me, wanked me and let me down he unclipped the wrist restraints and left. I don't know exactly how long I was curled up on the stone floor but when I had enough energy to move I found myself cold, stiff and sore. I had no idea if he had finished with me, why he had suddenly decided to up the stakes in pain and dominance or if there was more to come. The cellar door was shut which meant it was locked. I sat up and took the noose off my neck. I sat with my back against the wall and shivered.
I found myself thinking, trying to work out what was going on. I know I had more or less asked for some punishment because of the way I had performed the previous day but I had been cared for and cosseted when we had arrived back here. Sir had looked at my injuries, bruises over all parts of my body, scratches, whip marks and grazes all over my back, raw wrists and taken trouble to make me feel good to be home. Today I thought he was going to murder me. I was confused and frightened.
As I heard the bolts on the outside of the cellar door being pushed back I got onto my knees and kept my head bowed. I didn't want to look at him in the face. I felt half guilty, half embarrassed for some reason and could only deal with it this way. His boots clipped each of the stone steps on the way down and in a few seconds were under my nose.
"Hands in front" he ordered. I immediately offered them up to him knowing that tone would broach no objections. I kept them inside my head. "Why, what the hell is going on? This isn't normal. I have lived with him for long enough to know the pattern of how things run. I take what he decides to give, we both - enjoy might not be the best word here - mutually gain from the experience, physically, mentally and erotically.
The limits are pretty well secured in everything we do. There have been times when I have been pushed as far as I think I can go with pain and beatings but I could always see a point, a purpose if you like. There was a strengthening of our relationship. This made no sense to me at all.
Sir tied my wrists together so that my palms were flat and facing inwards, it almost looked as if I was praying. Indeed, inside I was.
"I think", he said holding my chin up and looking straight into my eyes, "that things have become a little lax around here. There seems to be a bit too much taken for granted, a few too many liberties taken. I get the impression that you don't show quite the respect you used to towards your Master and I intend to alter that."
I was about to protest but his black, leathered gloved hand pressed against my mouth.
"No, don't try to speak slaveboi, it'll only be more painful. Painful for you that is", he said smiling. "I have a bit of business to attend to which will take me a couple of hours, plus of course the driving time, so I'll be back mid afternoon. I want you to stay here and think about what I've said and to know that things will be a bit, lets say, tighter around here from now on."
I didn't like the sound of that one bit but resigned myself to sitting tied in the cold and dark until he returned.
"Now get into the centre of the room."
I was surprised but not worried by that. I could always move back when he'd gone. Leaning against the wall was preferable to sitting cross legged with no support.
But it was not to be. Barking out his instructions he had me lay face up on the flagstones. He pulled my arms above my head. He quickly locked them to one of the many restraint rings he had had set into the floor at intervals all round the room. He then set about my legs. Tying rope to each ankle he, in turn, tied them to more of the floor rings so that I was effectively spread wide, my cock and still tender balls flopping limply between my open legs. In doing so he had pulled each leg separately so that I was not only spread but stretched as well. It was enough to make each breath "noticeable" rather than easy.
"I said things would be a bit tighter around here and I meant it in every way, " he said.
The next thing that happened had me squealing, he grabbed my balls and working each nut downwards, tied a thin double cord around my sac looping the other ends through a ring directly in line with my body and attaching each individual end back up to each of my ankles. I could hardly move anyway, now any movement at all would pull on my balls. Before he tied them off he made sure each cord was very tight, to the extent that the pain in my balls was making me grimace. Three hours like this, maybe even more. Bloody hell.
"Sir, please..." I got no further. His boot came down on my mouth.
"Don't! he said. "You became my slave of your own free will. I respect that and I love you for it. But I am your Master not your partner. Things happen because I want them to. I got hard tying you and will be hard in the car thinking about you in that position with your balls crying out for relief. But you'll live. And maybe you'll think about things more clearly than perhaps you have lately. I've been far too easy on you. James may be a bastard but he's got the right idea about slaves." He stood between my legs. "If I want to kick you again I will. You'll say thank you Sir." I bit my lip. Not that pain again, please not that. He knelt down, leaned forward and put his arms either side of my chest. Then he bent forward and kissed me, no, he snogged me. Our tongues twisted together in each others' mouths and any feeling I had of pain or discomfort melted quickly away. My cock hardened against his. He sat up. Holding the cords from my balls he twanged them as if shooting an arrow from a bow. I yelped but said nothing. Smiling he turned.
"Don't go away."
His boots retraced their steps, clipping the stones on the way up. The door closed and I heard the bolts slide into place.