Part 8 – “Time and Sanity”
Like James, I too have a confession to make as this story’s messenger – not an author; I can neither confirm nor deny its fictitious nature.
I have no idea how to properly convey the passage of time in its whole – its significance, its poetry, its aesthetic. I struggle with passing a few hours, let alone the months I seek to skip over.
Forgive me for skipping so much time. I do not want a story that has more chapters than days in a year, that takes more time to read in its entirety than a dictionary, or an encyclopedia.
In any case, it simply is impossible to come up with so many original ideas to fill out each and every day of the year, which applies to James’ guards and handlers to arguably benefit, not detriment.
At times, the most profound epiphanies and most powerful destructions are achieved through repetition alone.
One could make use of silence and let it sit there, unchanging. Get that, and pile on ad nauseum.
Continue reading One Year – Part 08
Part 7 – “Checkup”
Day 30, as Russell said, was James’ checkup, the first of many to come in 30-day intervals.
To James’ surprise and joy, it was Russell who stepped into his cell when he awoke. Before carrying on with the regular proceedings, they exchanged smiles.
Once James was cleaned up, he expected the fist mitts to come back on, but they did not. Instead, he was fed a shot glass of water and a small pill before a bed on wheels with side rails was wheeled to the cell door. It was able to tilt up slightly at the halfway point to turn into a recliner. At the moment, however, it was flat like a normal bed.
From a pouch, Russell produced the blindfold and ball gag he was all too familiar with, and James meekly accepted them. He was laid out more or less in a neutral, face up position, with each limb tightly bound to the side rails using institutional restraints. For added pain and immobilisation, each of his nipples had a strangely heavy clamp applied to it, and a rather tautly pulled chain connected it to the corresponding side rail.
Continue reading One Year – Part 07
Part 6 – “Barber”
James woke on his 21st morning to a blaring alarm – as per usual – and a pleasant surprise – so far the only truly pleasant thing that has happened to him since he got here.
The cell door opened to reveal two men – Arnold and someone who looked like the sergeant-type guy who read him the rules, except he had a beard that made him seem more friendly.
“Slave, meet Russell. He’s the one who’s gonna deal with your hair every two weeks, though I messed up the scheduling so you’re gonna get a trim next week too, and then it goes back to normal again. He’s also helping me do a few things in my job.
“He’s been here a long time. Knows what he’s doing.”
Seemed. Arnold seemed easy-going but all James has gotten from him are punishments. Since these two were cooperating, there was no reason to conclude at this juncture that Russell would not follow suit.
Instinctively, James opened his mouth to say “thank you sir,” but the punishment the week prior – which mandated silence from him – did its number, and he stopped himself.
Continue reading One Year – Part 06
Part 5 – “Special Day”
Day 14 of 365.
This was a special day for James, who had, within the first day, accumulated complete sexual abstinence and 10 lashes of the flogger every day, for two weeks. All that because he could not recite the rules he was to obey.
Today marked the end of this punishment.
James woke up more quickly than before. After all, at least he would be allowed to touch himself again, and maybe even get stuff up the ass!
As Arnold, his handler approached him at the start of his day, he knelt and looked up, a smidge more energy in his eyes.
However, as if omniscient, Arnold shot down his overeager slave.
“Don’t get too happy. I said no pleasure sessions for two weeks, didn’t say anything about letting you have pleasure by the end of your punishment.
Continue reading One Year – Part 05
Part 4 – “Your Life”
James was awoken at 8 am by all the lights of his cell – they turned on simultaneously and rendered the pitch black blinding white in an instant – and a blaring from above.
He pulled himself up, trying his utmost to shield his eyes with his mitted hands, which watered profusely, and let them adjust.
By the time he acclimated, Arnold emerged from the cell door, on the wall in front of him, and the blaring alarm stopped. A bottle of protein shake with a straw stood at the corner of his mattress.
James knew there was no way he could pick up the bottle, so he bent down and sucked on the straw on all fours. A pat of affirmation confirmed that this was the right way to do things.
“Slave, don’t answer me. Yesterday was a taster, since you only had basically half a day here. From now on, your life will become tougher.”
A bottle of water was produced. This time, James was fed.
“It’s to prepare for what’s come,” said Arnold.
Continue reading One Year – Part 04
Part 3 – ”Destination”
James was asleep when he arrived at his destination. He was awoken by the sensation of being blindfolded and ballgagged.
He was untied and pulled from the trailer. The moment his feet met solid ground – coarse concrete – the rope nooses on his wrists were brought behind him and secured to each other. The leg rope nooses were connected as well, but with some slack to function as a makeshift leg chain. As he shuffled about to find his footing, bits of sand he felt between his toes told him he was in a desert.
It was a hard day for James.
The dry heat on his skin triggered him to sweat, indicating to him that it was morning, and not just any old morning either. It was the kind where there were no clouds at all, just the sun bearing down with all its might, and every movement is laboured, seemingly weighed down by the scorching hot light.
Continue reading One Year – Part 03
Part 2 – “The Move”
James did not leave his house for three days. All he would do was eat simple microwavable meals he had delivered to his house a while back and simply roleplay as a slave.
He would turn up his speakers to play some music, while knelt in a corner of the carpet, gagged, plugged and with his hands behind his back.
He would imagine himself at a party. A chic cocktail party where everyone was rich enough to buy the high fashion clothes they were wearing on a whim.
Maybe rich enough to buy him too, which might fit the colour palette of some elegant flooring scheme of walnut and a tan wool carpet.
Of course, he would have to stay off of the carpet. Realizing this, he moved off onto the hard floor.
Bad slave, he reprimanded himself.
He closed his eyes.
What would this party look like?
The lights were dimmed and there was mood lighting.
Continue reading One Year – Part 02
Part 1 – “Yours Most Sincerely”
James sat naked in his living room, a gown to his side. The endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean sprawled out in front of him, accompanied by little more than an idyllic blue sky and a mild scattering of a few clouds here and there – a gently moving fresco on his wall, framed by a window two floors tall.
Still, this extravagant ornament of an ocean was something he had seen every day in the years he had owned this mansion of his. In his defence, nothing on this planet is worthy of gawking at for a million times.
He had passed his duties to an interim CEO who would take his place at the helm of his company for 18 months.
So, what next?
Nothing. Nothingness is next.
Continue reading One Year – Part 01