Subspace

I have kept a diary for many years. Nothing literary, just odd notes on daily happenings and have not missed a day that I can remember. I am therefore very surprised to find that my diary was last written up eight days ago. The last entry read "Visiting Mistress tomorrow. New contract".

My visits to her had become a weekly routine. I would wear an old track suit and trainers over my chastity belt. No wallet or identification. Not even a key to my apartment which has a security coded lock. Just three coins to cover the bus fare across town. Mistress holds the only two keys to the belt. Maybe I shall be accused of living dangerously!

I approach her house and am aware of the security camera. I ring the door bell and wait to hear the electronic catch draw back. I step into a small hallway which becomes totally dark as the door shuts behind me. I sense Mistress's presence and can smell her perfume. I close my eyes and wait for her to apply the two pieces of medical tape. I have never been allowed to see her. She leads me carefully down a flight of steps to her dungeon.

We have always had a written contract which, among other items, precludes any direct infliction of pain and the maintenance of total silence during my visits. It has just been renewed with two small but important omissions. In the new contract, the space for the safe-word has been left blank and there is no time limit on sessions.

Mistress insists on the highest standards of hygiene. She removes my clothes and attaches steel cuffs to my wrists. She takes me to the shower and anchors my wrists to hooks above my head. I feel her use the key to open the belt. Bill immediately springs to attention. After a quick inspection, she is satisfied that all is well and washes me down with shower gel. A dose of cold water in usually enough to calm Bill down again so that he can be put back in his tube and the belt in relocked. I am dried off thoroughly with towels and hair dryer.

Today, I am to experience a new scene.

Mistress locks a helmet over my head. It has no eye openings and pads over the eyes, but leaves my mouth and nostrils clear for breathing. I have worn it many times and find the constraint very satisfying. I notice a change, however. There are also now pads over my ears, presumably to reduce my sense of hearing. She applies plastic discs over my nipples secured with medical tape.

As usual, she temporarily removes the cuffs while I put on long mittens without fingers or thumbs. These are laced right up to my elbows and the cuffs replaced. Similarly, I put on long soft boots which lace to my knees, followed by ankle cuffs.

For the first time, Mistress also puts an adult diaper over the chastity belt.

She leads me across the room to my coffin. This stands upright and is lined with padding. I stand inside it and she secures wrists and ankles with short chains to the inside of the coffin. My head rests against a pillow and I have only a small amount of possible movement. The scent of Mistress's perfume is very strong.

Mistress tells me to turn my head to the right and I find a tube close to my mouth. I can suck water from the tube. Turning left, another tube has a supply of what seems like thick soup.

The front of the coffin is then closed and locked and I am alarmed to become aware of a gradual increase in noise in my ears - what electronics folk call "white noise". Its volume is not high, but it totally masks any outside sounds. Fortunately, there appears to be an adequate air supply into the coffin.

After a few moments, the coffin starts to tilt backwards and rotate slowly. After several revolutions, I am completely disorientated, but eventually, it stops in a horizontal position.

I gradually take stock. I am now lying on my back in a closed box. I am relatively comfortable and not in any pain. I have no sense of sight, hearing, or even smell since the perfume is all-pervasive and seems to have been sprayed on the pillow. I can move my arms and legs a little, but cannot touch due to the mittens and boots. The water and soup are tasteless. I am in a state of total sensory deprivation.

I remember the new contract. No time limit. No safe word. What have I agreed to? Even breaking my commitment to silence may not be heard outside the closed coffin. I allow myself to drift into semi-consciousness. Time stops.

I come to, feeling both hunger and thirst. I have no idea how long it is since I last ate. I suck some soup and water and feel better. Again, I drift into an unreal world of nothingness.

My next awareness is a need for toilet and I realise that I must just allow things to happen - I have no choice.

Panic starts to set in as I realise that I could be kept here much, much longer than in any previous scene. Mistress has done nothing outside the terms of the contract which I had willingly signed.

I am awakened by movement of the coffin. It slowly comes vertical. I sense the front opened and feel the nappy changed. Immediately, the coffin is closed again and rotates several times before finally stopping horizontal again.

Again, I drift off into what I am now thinking of as "subspace" - a timeless condition outside any previous experience. Even my own thoughts have become subdued. There is no point in thinking when you can do nothing, are divorced from any sort of reality. It must be like being buried alive. The only consolation is that I have water and soup for sustenance and can lie in some sort of comfort.

The only sign that I am still alive comes with the changing of the nappy. I am unable to guess how frequent that is, though it does not seem very regular. I now have no idea how long I have been in the coffin. Hours, days, weeks? Time is meaningless. I no longer have any identity. My whole life is a box about six feet by two. My brain doesn't seem to work properly. I realise I can't remember where I live. I am not even sure of my own name.

Why am I here? Maybe I am dead and buried. Maybe death is not so final as we think.

The nappy changing seems to go on. The supplies of water and soup do not run out. Is someone keeping me alive?

I start to hallucinate. Weird dreams of hell like a Blake painting. I must be dead - there is no other explanation.

Time passes.

Again I feel the coffin rotate. Nappy time? No. This time, the chains are released and I am gently eased out of the coffin and helped onto a bed. I must be alive after all. The white noise gradually fades away. I am aware of distant noises and a different perfume. My mittens and boots are removed and my muscles given exercise. The hood is taken off and my nipples are teased into life. Bill tries to explore his tube.

A return visit to the shower is bliss, even if I am still blind. I feel Mistress take the belt off, wash and replace it. She dresses me in my track suit and leads me up to the front door. She has put three coins in my pocket. The tapes are taken off my eyes and I sense her disappear into the darkness. I open the door and step back into the real world.

It is dark outside, so my eyes adjust easily, but I have to stand for a few moments to get my bearings and remember how to get home. Fortunately, I can remember the code to get into my apartment.

My last diary entry was eight days ago. But Mistress still holds my keys, so I must go back in another week's time. How long for?

February 2001.

Comments very welcome to Johnny Cumlately jclately@hotmail.com

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