Submitted by: Corsetperv


The trouble with being a self-employed boiler repair man is its either feast or famine. Today is the latter, sat at home waiting for the work mobile to ring. No ring, just a beep as a message from one of my barmy mates comes in. No urgency, I finish making my coffee and sit down with the phone hoping it's not an unfunny text from Ray. It wasn't a joke text it was a Job, a divorcee, or so I thought who spurned my poor chat technique about six weeks ago when I serviced her boiler.

Nice job as it came from a recommendation and would soon end up as a boiler replacement as it was well past its sell by date, don't mess up a good job I thought so the chat-up was only half hearted. She did do good coffee and paid me in cash. I changed into clean new work gear as she defiantly was not past her sell by date and just the type I found attractive. This job was a follow on from the service, her system had been progressively messed up by a string of cowboy plumbers and needed work to put it right so I had been hopeful of a call. I believe in being straight with all my customers and Monique was to be no exception. I told her the boiler she had was a bit of a dog and she had been lucky to get the 12 years out of it she had already. I was therefore not prepared to spend her good money on any expensive parts that would probably end up being scraped in a few months' time. The rest of the system needed a bit of TLC but was basically sound. In essence the same I told her six weeks ago. We agree on a plan, I am to give the system a through clean and set it up the boiler will be replaced as soon as the weather settles down into a couple of warm days.

Our conversation is quite different from our last; she is now making social conversation and introducing a little innuendo into the tools and pipes conversation that goes with my trade. Then she hits my weak spot telling me any lateness or bad workmanship will be punished. After my stiffy subsides I get up from the table and fetch my tools in and get started. I am undertaking an operation called power flushing and will need access to all the rooms in the house so she disappears upstairs to “tidy her bedroom up a bit” It's a lovely 30s detached house decorated in keeping with the time it was built. I get my flushing machine set up in the attached garage and call her as I need access to the attic to get to the header tank. Do you have a loft ladder I say hopefully, Ahh there is a spiral stair from my bedroom into the loft, “do you need to go up there? Yes I need to get to the header tank and if the loft is converted I need to get to any radiators in there. Oh well I hope you are broadminded, follow me. I have worked in some strange places, I once worked in a brothel in St Johns Wood that catered for some very strange tastes but there again my tastes are strange and up until now I had had to pay to get them attended too. The attic was done out as a dungeon, Red and black leather everywhere. There were racks of whips floggers, crops, cuffs, chains, clamps and clips. Electrical apparatus looking dusty but serviceable on a little medical style trolley next to a padded leather bench with more straps than I could shake a stick at. There were all manner of straps and chains with a small mountain of rope. A rack, a St Andrews Cross, more padded leather in the shape of a whipping stool, and a pillory and something from my wildest dreams a queening bench.

I was speechless. She was not after I had spent five minutes gawping speechless with my mouth open she said we can play after the job is finished if you want to. The best I could manage was a weak yes please. I thought you might like to I am Mistress Monique in the IRC chatroom you like to spend a lot of your spare time in. I was completely dumfounded. I had been chatting lots with Monny for the last six weeks and had seen her and had occasional private chats over a period of years. I had apparently told her some small thing about myself when last at her house that I had told her earlier in the chatroom she put two and two together and found herself a prospective match. Her husband had led her down the sub Dome lifestyle rout then left her for another man, somewhat hard for a sensuous highly sexed woman to take. He then promptly died of a massive heart attack one week later and left her the house and a good income, so not a divorcee, technically a widow. I, having never found any woman who showed any sign of dominant tendency had assumed this only happened in expensive establishments and very few private homes and on a small scale.

I had told Mistress Monique of my hobby of making chastity belts and told her of the ones I had built for me. Monny wanted to see them now, we postponed the heating work and she followed my van to my home. I showed her with some pride my three belts, all stainless steel construction, well-made and as she knew because I had bragged incessantly about them on line, all suitable for long term wear. Let's bag this lot up and go back to my house then after a short pause "if you dare" while removing all the keys from the Zone padlocks and putting them in her purse. Can I show you something else please? Yes, I show Monny into me second bedroom, from the celling hangs a full body cage. It has clamps for cock and balls, removable blinders, a brank that various gags can be fitted too and a screw in anal plug with various plugs. It fits me perfectly as I made it for me. She simply instructs me to get it down, get it over to my house and hung in my attic now, you will be spending some time inside she said testing the locks and key, I nodded totally lost for words as that key joined the others.

We arrived back at her house. I have to tell you I do not do safewords, I am in control once we go up that spiral star. And I remain in control until I release you. You will be given opportunity to end the relationship but you will come when I call and leave when I say. I am not looking for a live in slave but I am looking for and am willing to give one to one commitment do you want this to continue?

Three hours later, the cage is attached to a celling mounted winch in the centre of Monnies attic. I am in turmoil. I have never had the courage to trust a professional Domme to imprison me in the cage It is 4 years old I have stood in it but its 24 key matched padlocks remain totally unused. Monniy is now supervising the installation of my other pride and joy my latest chastity belt. It has some unusual features Firstly the main locking system is activated by a stainless steel Zone 200/40 marine padlock; expensive, but with a hardened un-drillable exterior. It is fitted into a pocket vertically downward, and then the waistband ends are slid into a housing in front of the lock the cock tube retaining arm is then slid into its own slot in the housing. The 19 mm hardened tool grade steel lock pin is then inserted through the retaining arm and the waist band ends and turned 90 degrees this engages a slot in the pin, the base of the padlock is then pressed down and a small click is heard as the belt is locked on.

Monny now wants to do this without any help from me so I let he put my hands in the overhead cuffs and watch as she attaches the ankle cuffs. She walks over to the wall presses a button I had not seen before and giggles as I am lifted off my feet by a hidden winch. She then selects a wickedly thin rattan cane and without a word applies it 6 times to my backside by the fourth I am pleading for her to stop. After the sixth she tells me the house punishment is six for every lie I tell her. She selects her own instrument as she sees fit, another house rule is to count each stroke and thank her for every on. The six strokes are repeated; I count and thank her for everyone. That is a very poor way to show the gratitude I expect for the effort I put in for your benefit and the dose is repeated again with me blabbing thanks an praise for her attentions on me. Thankfully she puts the cane back in the rack then I hope for effect checks the water level in the vase the birch is soaking in, I remember a previous chatroonm conversation telling her about a professional birching I had received and saying I never want to experience the same again I am starting to get a little scared. While gentaly stroking my red striped bottom she asks me to think very carefully about this before I answer, what lie did you receive those 18 for? I am dumstruck again This woman has me at the mercy and apparently after a six week internet relationship knows the exact location of every one of my buttons and precisely how hard to press them. I rack my brain then remember just after I serviced her boiler I told Monny on line I had not spoken to another woman all week.

Very good that was the one. Right this lock contraption of yours. Taking the key from her purse she inserts it into the lock and turns it the lock clicks open, my cock is doing its level best to burst the stainless steel tube that imprisons it she pulls out the lock pin and inspects it. Very clever, can this be cut? Only with a grinder I say and I don't want a grinder that close, If it slips and its likely to I will end up in hospital. Good Now what's this for holding a tower hasp on the back of the belt. Its to lock a butplug inside me, I like that Idea where is it, there are 4 in the bag we brought form my house. She spreads the contents of the bag in front of me what is this? It's a hinged butplug plate so I can take out a plug to use the toilet but it will hang down preventing me from getting dressed unless I replace the plug. Oh I like that a lot. Now where are the other keys? There are none you only get one with these zone locks. You have to pay extra for more keys. She walks over to a cabinet and opens a small draw then back to me holding something behind her back. She smiles at me and I know this is going to hurt. I am astounded to see two Zone 200/40 padlocks in her hand. Monny opens one removes my padlock from the belt, inserts her own, pushes the lockpin home twists it into position and this time the lock click is like thunder my spare keys at home are now useless. She throws the small bunch of keys on the floor. Count them she demands, Three I say; how many? Three; what's the first rule? No lying I say; how many lies? One I say three keys, three lies that's only two lies I said in desperation, OK but two locks equal four lies equals 24 strokes; if you argue I'll double it. She says triumphantly. I'll play a little game with you, what? I am going to use 4 different instruments on you, I will let you have three strokes with each blindfolded you get one guess each if you guess right that will be it if you guess wrong I will start again and give you six more. I don't know I said, Monny laughed out loud, whatever gave you the idea you had any say in the matter. The blindfold was strapped over my eyes and a ball gag was placed against my mouth. I tried to resist it, it went away only to be replaced by a rubber cock gag and my nipple was clamped until I opend up to accept the gag, good boy don't forget Monny gets what Monny wants and we will get along fine. The game began, I counted out three strokes, the gag was released I gasped cane, which one? The same as last time. Ha ha no it's the leather handeld one the gag went back and I got six more, at least I dint have to count and thank her. Three more I guessed riding crop, what colour? Black, no silly boy black is not a colour it's the purple one. Halfway now as I know I don't have a hope in hell of guessing anything with this woman.

Three more. Twase I try, no flat stick. Six more then out of the blue I feel her hand giving me a light slap. On my burning arse it is pure pleasure when the gag is removed I am tempted to say whip but dare not your hand right or left. I have notice she is left handed so I say right and am rewarded with six more then as I did not count or thank her as the gag had not been replaced six again. I was lowered to the ground I was a little wobbly and needed a little support she led me to a bench, lay me face down on it and proceeded to buckle me in the bench tilted into a 45 degree head up position and I felt a plug probing my arse. Don't try to resist it will rip you apart and the probe entered me stretching my tight arse I had plugs but had never the courage to try them. This was a machine designed to rape a man's arse and I was finding it was not as bad as I imagined. The next step was even better Monny mounted her seat on this contraption and I was treated to a very juicy fanny In fact there was no escape from it .

I was wearing a very secure belt I didn't have a clue when or if I would be released. My arse was being fucked by a machine that I was powerless to stop it was battered and bruised from a severe beating and my face was forced to eat the fanny of a near total strange. Would I call a halt if I could? No way I was loving it.

Monny came three times before getting up and releasing me she took me the St Andrews Cross and fixed me firmly to it She picked up the keys from the floor and removed my belt then slowly and very gently using lube started to give me a long slow hand job. Every time I came to the edge she stopped and kissed me offered her nipples to my mouth then started again. After an hour or more she gave me the choice, I could leave now never to return or she would re lock the belt and all my future orgasms were at her discretion. She made it clear they were to be few and far between but she expected several every time I visited. She did not have to ask twice I asked her to lock the belt on. I don't think I will ever understand women in general particularly this on. After inviting her to lock my cock up she then proceeded to give me the best blow job I have ever had. Long slow and when she finally allowed me to cum I nearly passed out. She passed me my whole load back mouth to mouth and told me if I didn't swallow every drop It would be my last for a very long time. I spent that night in my cage my cock in the spiked tube and the largest plug screwed deep in my arse. She made a fine performance of closing the cage, I am pulled back into it by a leash around my balls the steel band around my midriff bung closed first then working up and down alternately until I am incapable of any movement at all. Then in turn all twenty-five padlocks are locked closed, the action of the Zone locks is so the key has to be used to close the lock, they do not snap shut. Lock 23 holds the cock gag in my mouth, Lock 24 prevents any tampering with the plug in my arse. Lock 25, the final padlock is threaded through my reversed Prince Albert piercing preventing any chance of getting my cock out of the spiked tube. I was so knackered by events I did sleep for an hour or two. After I was released 6 hours later I was belted then my mouth used again in the morning and then told to leave and be there in two days' time to finish the job I had not even started yet. It was two months before I got to cum again this time she rode me to orgasm then having me clean her with my tong. I am beaten by her for the slightest infraction and if my behaviour is exemplary a reason is invented. On other days I am summoned and she cooks me a delicious meal or I am informed we are going out. I have never been happier I adore the woman and would do anything for her she said the other day it would make sense if I moved in with her I would do it in a heartbeat. I have offered her everything I own and she wants none of it, just me. If I sell my house or better still rent it out that plus my pensions would give us a decent living, Monny would like to move to the country, she says she won't have to always keep me gaged while playing as there will be no neighbours to hear my screams, she may be serious with a bit of luck.

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