Fiction for now....

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LockedDummy
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Joined: 20 Mar 2019, 12:01

Fiction for now....

Post by LockedDummy »

This is a work of fiction. But it will most likely come to pass some day soon.........

.....

“your time is mine now, don’t you remember? You gave it to me, dummy”. Mistress taunted. I had just told her of my intent to do some hiking and fishing over
the weekend. The spring weather had finally arrived and I was eager to do something with my free time besides sit in my room jerking off and watching TV.

“You think you can just come and go as you please? Is that the captive lifestyle?” I stammered and searched for an answer. Things were getting real now. When I had the urge to indulge my bondage kinks, being Mistress's captive was so satisfying. But now I had my own plans, and suddenly worlds were starting to collide.

Im a captive. I don’t have rights. My time is not my own. If I want a leisure-release, I must earn the privilege from Mistress . Her voice was cold, cruel, and demanding as she explained these exact facts to me. I tried to apologize. I tried to plead for forgiveness. But she wouldn’t hear it. She said two words. “The Cell“

“The Cell” refers to my 6′ x 9′ walk in closet. I take out all my stuff and a padlock on the door allows it to function as a prison-cell for Mistress's most extreme oppression. This was most definitely not how I planned to spend my weekend.

She gave me a detailed set of instructions and told me that she would be locking me up Friday evening. She’s on west coast time, which puts me 3 hours ahead. She said locking me up would be the last thing she does before signing off, which meant I would be up very late before I even started.

At around 2am, struggling to stay awake, I called Mistress. She logged on to skype and verified that she could see inside the cell. I was required to show her that I had everything that she had demanded.

I had water, and a large bowl of cold oatmeal. Enough to make me worried about how long I might be in there. I had a sleeping pad and small thin blanket. And that was it for comfort items. I also had a pair of handcuffs, which she had not ordered me to put on yet. There was also the steel lockbox. The key to the cuffs as well as the key to cell were placed inside. The box was locked with the time-padlock.

I asked her how long to set the timer. Imagine my heartbreak when she said 48 hours. The whole weekend. It was already early saturday morning. That means I wouldn’t be let out until Monday morning….just a few hours before work. This was crazy!!

I tried to protest but she cut me off. Apparently there was another way out. A quicker way out. If I earned it.

A bucket hung from a rope at about chin level. The rope extended upwards and passed through a ring hanging from the ceiling. The rope ran across the ceiling near a second ring on the opposite side of the room. A loop of fishing line was tied to the second ring. And tied to that line were the keys to both the cuffs, and the cell door.

The rope with the bucket was tied to the loop of fishing line. If the bucket became heavy enough, the rope would break the fishing line, and the keys would fall. All I had to do, was make the bucket heavy enough.

The bucket hung in one corner of the room. In the far corner, was a pile of sand. She made me dump an entire 50lb bag of fine sand in my closet!

Now came the lockup. First, the cell door was locked with a padlock. One key was hanging from the fishing line. The other key was in the steel box that won’t open for two whole days. Next, I had to strap on a ball gag with a special modification. A teaspoon was mounted to the gag by inserting the handle through the rubber ball. Finally, my hands were cuffed behind my back. Again, with one key in the box, and another hanging from the fishing line.

If I want any part of my weekend back, I have to get down on the floor, lower myself in to the pile of sand, and scoop up a spoonful with the spoon protruding from my face. Then I have to carefully stand up, walk over to the bucket, and drop it in.

One spoonful at a time, until the bucket is heavy enough to break the fishing line.

I’m using 10lb test line. I have 50lbs of sand. I have 48 hours.
Adventures of an oppressed dummy....
https://lockeddummy.home.blog/

Twitter @LockedDummy
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Shannon SteelSlave
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Joined: 03 Feb 2019, 19:49
Location: New England, USA

Re: Fiction for now....

Post by Shannon SteelSlave »

Very interesting. Another take on using a spoon to escape, but not with digging. Sounds like it could be fun. Maybe some of us will try it if it ever does make it to TRUE STORIES. Trying to do the math right now to see how much of a weekend could be salvaged with some work.....
If you are a dummy, then how come you can write so well?
Bondage is like a foreign film without subtitles. Only through sharing and practice can we hope to understand.
A Jedi uses bondage for knowledge and defense, never for attack.
I am so smart! I am so smart! S-M-R-T!....I, I mean S-M-A-R-T!
👠👠
LockedDummy
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Posts: 20
Joined: 20 Mar 2019, 12:01

Re: Fiction for now....

Post by LockedDummy »

Shannon SteelSlave wrote:If you are a dummy, then how come you can write so well?
Only a dummy would volunteer for captivity. Only a dummy would surrender consent. Only a dummy would let her do this stuff to him.
Adventures of an oppressed dummy....
https://lockeddummy.home.blog/

Twitter @LockedDummy
User avatar
Shannon SteelSlave
Moderator
Posts: 6532
Joined: 03 Feb 2019, 19:49
Location: New England, USA

Re: Fiction for now....

Post by Shannon SteelSlave »

That would make us all dummies. :D Shannon SteelDummy? Hmmmm.....Nah. 'Fraid not.
Bondage is like a foreign film without subtitles. Only through sharing and practice can we hope to understand.
A Jedi uses bondage for knowledge and defense, never for attack.
I am so smart! I am so smart! S-M-R-T!....I, I mean S-M-A-R-T!
👠👠
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