U. N. Known Writer

Summers at GG's

Chapter One
The Journey

It was the first week of the summer vacation and just like the three previous four I was going to be spending the holiday at my Great-Granddad's house and I couldn't wait. I guess there would be some fourteen year old boys who wouldn't be happy about being shipped off to an old house out in the sticks with an old guy, but GG – as I called him – was brilliant, letting me do stuff that my parents, or even my grandparents would never let me get away with. Not that it was all one way, as GG often said that I bought his place alive since my first time there, four years ago.

That had been the first time my parents had gone aboard leaving me with little option but to stay with GG. I'd been sad then, as I was only ten, but we had a great time. GG took me to all these cool places, and we did all this great stuff together, but it wasn't until the summer I was eleven that things started to get much more interesting.

I was doing a school project which had been set for 'advanced' class which really wasn't fair as no one else had homework during the summer break, but then that's what you get for being clever, I guess. Sometimes you know it pays to be dumber than dumb, but then you don't get to do all the cool stuff that I got to do, and what's more, you don't get trusted to do other stuff.

Anyway the project was about World War Two, only I couldn't think of anything to do. Well I could as there was loads I could have done, but all of it had been done before, and would have meant spending loads of time reading books and stuff, which just isn't right when it sunny. But then GG mentioned that he'd had evacuees at the house when he was a kid and that settled it. That's what I was going to write about. Only just not in the way I expected.

You see GG had lived in that house all his life, even when he was a boy like me, and as it was big and well away from any city, the government had sent kids there to be safe from the bombing and stuff. Strange kids, that for the most part had never left the street they were born on, so were well out of their depth in the countryside so GG took it upon himself to help them get settled in.

So I decided to write about that, even if I knew I would have to clean up some of the GG's stories. GG had all these wild stories about how the kids turned up all scruffy, dirty and scared having been taken from their families and everything they knew, only to be treated a bit like cattle and then dumped in places they couldn't have found on a map. It was going to be a great project, the way I planned it, but it turned out even better than that when GG suggested that rather than just listening to him talking about it, why didn't I live it.

I didn't quite get what he meant at first as we didn't have a time machine but soon I did as after all I hadn't done much different to the evacuees already, as I'd been shipped out from the city to the country 'for my own good', so I agreed thinking it would be a bit of fun for a day or two, but it was much more than that for when GG does something he does it well.

For the next few weeks, I not only wrote about but I actually lived like an evacuee boy would have done in the 1940s. I did what they did, I eat what they would have eaten, I even got to dress like they would have when GG got me these sort of wool shorts, with braces, and a thick shirt with a waistcoat jumper and I wore them all the time, doing stuff just like a real evacuee would.

I had no modern stuff to do. Got up at the crack of dawn, helped out around the house and then was sent off on adventures around the woods, building dens, playing at being cowboys and Indians, as well as war games. We eat war rations – which were 'interesting' – went to bed early in full blue and white pyjamas in this metal frame bed that GG dug up from his shed of stuff (actually a double garage filled with all sorts). I washed in a bowl as there was no water back then to have a bath or even a shower. The only way I could get a proper wash was to go swimming in the pond at the back of GG's house. First wearing this really itchy wool bathing suit and then, without it. Which was even more fun.

Fact is, there was so much fun stuff to do that I never once missed watching TV or playing computer games. Not even the Internet and of course, when I went back the next year I wanted to do it all again. Only this time not as an evacuee but instead I wanted to be like a new boy at an old fashioned boarding school.

Everything was arranged in advanced, rather than put together on the fly. This meant that my bedroom could be fitted out as a dorm – albeit for one person – with the metal bed, I ate school style meals, sat at a table in the kitchen, and GG set up a separate school room, with a wooden desk that had a flip top lid, and a chair attached to it, a proper blackboard and everything so it was as realistic as possible.

GG even managed to get me a proper uniform from a tiny shop in the local town, complete with shorts, cap and blazer like they would have worn back then. I even had a sports kit of white shorts and plimsoll for PE, and all the other stuff that a new kid would have to have, like pens that used real ink cartridges, and exchangeable nibs. Even a slide rule, although I never did work out just how to use that thing.

We planned it all out down to the last detail, in the lead up to my holiday. There was an itinerary of the school day, a lesson plan, and even school rules that couldn't be broken and at my insistence, what punishments would happen if they were. All of them authentic, taken from any number of websites that I found on line about things that people had gone through when they were boys like me. All of which I got to experience first hand, even if my bum was sore for weeks afterwards.

Yeah, I got spanked when I was at prep school. Spanked a lot in fact. Not by GG as I couldn't ask him to do that and he wouldn't have done it anyway. Instead, I just worked out ways to do it by myself using all the stuff that was used back then, like slippers, my gym shoe, wooden rulers, hairbrushes, straps of leather with a split in the end called a tawes, a small paddle that had once been a ping pong bat, and even my hand. The one thing I couldn't really do on my own was to use a cane. At least not on my bum, as the angle was all wrong, although I did get a few blows on my palms instead, which really stung.

By the time my third year at GG's came around, I had loads of ideas of what I wanted to do, but wasn't sure I could share any of them with GG. They were just getting to be all a bit weird. Yet, at thirteen – and since I have to admit – I just found them all fascinating. But you didn't need to be a genius, like some said I was, to know that teenagers just aren't meant to behave like toddlers in nappies and everything that goes with it. So I just did it on my own, and loved every second of it.

Anyway, that was last year and all went off without a hitch despite some near misses where I'm sure GG knew I was up to something, but despite some comments about how big my bum looked from time to time, he never interfered in what I was doing as, like I said, he trusted me which was just as well for what was going to happen the next summer as he wasn't even going to be there.

Turned out I wasn't the only one with a secret life – well lives – GG had one too and was off on an adventure of his own with this women he'd been dating on line. Mum and Dad didn't know that, of course, and there were times when I wished I didn't know either as it wasn't an image I wanted in my head, but it was the perfect opportunity for me to live another life.

So it was that in the summer where I'd just turned fourteen, I was going to have the best summer ever, as although I was going to be totally alone, for four weeks, during that time I was going to turn myself into a total sex slave.

I know that's going to shock some people, but it's what I wanted and in some ways had been what I'd been leading up to the previous two summers especially the last one, with all the straps and stuff.

You see being an evacuee had been fun. A real boy's own adventure, and in the months that followed I'd explore things around that time a lot more, which is how I'd come upon the idea of doing the prep school thing the following year. Only it wasn't for the history either.

Sure GG had plenty of stories about his own time at prep school, some of which I even re-enacted, especially the initiation ones, and the pranks that were pulled, as both of those nearly always contained the two subjects I'd become more and more interested in. Being tied up and spanked.

I'd like to say that I came upon that stuff by accident but I didn't, I always sort of liked it, along with tales of boys being embarrassed and humiliated in various ways, usually by being dressed up in odd clothes, or being naked in public in some way which is why I got such a thrill out doing the skinny dipping back when I was an evacuee. Not that anyone saw me then, but that didn't matter I just liked it.

Anyway, when I started looking at the prep school thing, spanking was very much there. In fact some of the sites I found were just about that. Of course I soon realised that the 'true stories' they had probably weren't, but that didn't matter as they gave me loads of ideas about not just how a boy would be spanked but how I could do it to myself. Which is why I ended up acting out a lot of them, as they were written.

Naturally, the following year I went back to those sites for the next idea, which is where I came upon the idea of 'regression', which was, something that happened in a punishment at some schools, where an older boy was made to dress like a little kid, and go to little kids classes and such like. Only, the stuff I found online took it even further, so that he wasn't so much a little kid as baby which was what I did over my thirteenth summer.

At fourteen I wanted to take it even further than that, and as there was no younger I could get, I had to go in another direction, so I checked the sites and eventually I found the perfect thing in a story called Steven's Summer in Chains.

In this long story, a boy about my age with interests similar to mine spends the summer with his uncle, and ends up getting tied up in loads of ways that I'd never thought of before. Funny thing was, I soon realised that everything that happened to Steven could happen to me, at GG's. All I had to do was order some of the stuff from the internet, and re-organise a couple of rooms, and then I could have a summer just like Steven.

That's the reason I ended up sat outside the train station waiting for the bus to take me up to GG's house wearing just a pair of denim shorts and a grey t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to show my arms, as that's what Steven had been wearing at the start of the his summer in chains even if I was wearing shoes. This being one of the many changes that I was going to have to make to the original text in order to get it to work for me.

I only had a small rucksack with me, which had given mum some concern as it clearly wouldn't be enough for four weeks, but then it didn't have to be as I wouldn't be wearing most of what it had contained then. Of course mum just thought I'd be wearing the track suit I'd left the house in, but I only wore that until I was on the train then I'd pulled it off to show the shorts below, as ever since I'd been an evacuee I'd always much preferred being in shorts as they just give you so much more freedom to do stuff.

The bus that turned up wasn't quite the sports car of the story but it would do, and I climbed on, paid for my ticket and took a seat near the back, just like any kid would, even though I was about to do something most kid's wouldn't. Not unless they'd been arrested anyway.

Riding the bus I waited until we'd cleared the small town that held the station, until there were only a few old ladies up the front, before I acted out the next part of the story.

Quickly I pulled my shirt off over my head and put it into the main part of the bag. Then, from the side pocket, I pulled out two of the things bought for this adventure. One from a pet store and the other online. Most of the online stuff would be – or already had been – delivered directly to GG's house, but these I needed before then as I had to arrive already wearing them.

According to the story I should have put them on in the other order, but like quite a bit of the other stuff I was going to be doing, I'd had to make some practical changes to the plot line so the collar had to be first.

The collar was a regular dog collar made for a middle sized dog and it fitted my neck perfectly. The small silver coloured metal studs looked great, but unlike the big metal D ring, they were just there for show. Buckling it I made sure it was more snug than tight, as after all I didn't want to choke myself, given that I was going to be wearing it for a long time, once the tiny padlock was threaded through the buckle and snapped closed.

"The collar isn't coming off. You'll be wearing it all summer." Steven had been told in the story, and neither was mine as key for that particular padlock was sitting inside my pen pot at home.

Thankfully teenage boys wearing a dog collar while being an unusual sight, although probably more of one out in the country than back in the city, but all the same, chances are no one would comment on it. Not like the handcuffs.

I had to put my rucksack on before the handcuffs as otherwise I wouldn't be able to carry it. Naturally before I did that I made sure I could get to the key which was in the bottom pocket, with my hands behind my back, then I put the cuffs on.

They were real police cuffs according to the website I got them from, but they were the old style with the chain in the middle, rather than solid, so it was easy for me to put them on myself.

I'd worn them before but still feeling the metal going around my wrists gave me the shivers, which only got worse at the ominous sound of the cuffs clicking closed as I tightened them. It was something I loved every bit as much as Steven did in the story, and just like him I was going to spend most of the summer tied up, or chained or both, but unlike him I knew just what was coming.

The bus ride was long slow, and rather bumpy as we worked our way onto smaller and smaller roads allowing me plenty of time to go through all of the things I was going to do in my head, knowing full well that this would lead to my prick getting hard as that's what always happened when I thought about this suff, and of course when I did it too, only this year I'd started to be able to cum as well. Mind you I'd been wanking for a lot longer than that. In fact since that day I went skinny dipping and my eleven year old willy just wouldn't go soft until I'd done it. The same thing was clearly going to happen today but with my hands cuffed there was nothing I could do about the growing tent in my short shorts, and that just made it harder, and the bus ride seem all that much longer.

It was getting on for the evening when the bus finally pulled up at the stop nearest to GG's house, which was a relief as I'd had to press the bell with my nose, not to mention that the backs of my thighs were getting sore from rubbing against the rough material the seats were covered in.

As casually as I could I made my way down the short aisle to the door which hissed open allowing me to step off.

I stood on the side of the road, waiting for the bus to leave with my back to the high hedges on either side so my handcuffs wouldn't be obvious. Then when the road was clear – as it nearly always was – I started on the fifteen minute walk to GG's house, with my hands still chained behind me.

GG's was probably the richest person in our family. Well there's no 'probably' about that, he was, although no one was too sure just where his money came from. Sure his parents had been well off, as they'd bought the house I was now visiting, but just how GG managed to keep it all going, no one was quite sure, but I was sure grateful that he had.

The house itself was a stately home or anything. In fact it wasn't even all that big as country houses go, but it did have quite a few rooms that weren't normally used, as well as a basement and an attic, along with a lot of grounds all of which were hidden behind the same high hedges that boarded all the tiny one car wide country lanes that surrounded it, and which further hid it from view. In fact, if you didn't know it was there, you'd never find it. Or even the road it was on, come to that. It was also totally secure, which is why GG had no worries about me being there on my own, and why I could also be sure that I wouldn't be interrupted while I was being a slave.

My nose got a little sore as I typed in the code needed to open the main gate, which turned out to be a lot more difficult that the bus bell as there was a time limit between the different buttons. Still after the fifth go the gate click and I was able to push it open and slip inside, before in clanked shut behind me, sounding very much like a prison gate closing.

The gate closing made me excited, as did the familiar walk up to GG's house, noting that it was indeed all locked up tight meaning there was no one there. Not that I suspected for one second that GG would lie to me, but it was always good to be sure, especially given what I was going to do once I got inside.

Standing in the little porch way, I fumbled for a moment to get the handcuff key out of underside pocket of my backpack releasing my hands from the steel a second later in the way I'd practised many times. Then I took GG's key out of the pocket of the jeans I'd cut down to make into shorts, and let myself in, closing and locking the door behind me.

When Steven had arrived at his Uncle's house he'd been told two rules. One new and one old. He'd removed his shoes, which weren't allowed in the house, outside, but I hadn't done that, as I knew the second rule rather made that pointless. "Boys don't wear clothes in the house!".

I like Steven had got used to not wearing much clothes recently, and wasn't particularly shy, as I was in decent shape from doing a lot of sports at school and stuff. All the same this was something new to me, but I was going to be nude a lot so I got on wit it.

Slipping the rucksack from my back while I toed off my shoes, I think unbutton the jean shorts and slide them down my hips to the floor where I stepped out of them. Underneath I didn't have Spongebob boxers like Steven had, instead I was wearing a pair of the white briefs that had been part of my prep school uniform and which I rather liked due to the way they hugged me in all the right places.

"Those too, kid!" I told myself, acting as Steven's Uncle.

Digging my thumbs into the waistband I pulled the briefs down, or rather I rolled them down as they were too tight to just let drop until they got past my knees.

Once I'd stepped out of my last item of clothing, I stood straight again, remembering in the story that Steven hadn't known what to do with his hands and I didn't either, although I knew not to cover my stuff up as that was the third rule, so I left them by my sides, leaving me totally exposed in the full glare of the mirror on the other side of the hall.

Like every teenage boy on the planet I knew exactly what I looked like naked, but all the same, I still stared at my lean frame, with the long slender, yet muscled legs, the flat stomach that was caught somewhere between the chubby belly little kids have, and the six pack older teenagers have. In fact, I wasn't as tall as a lot of my peers, yet despite the lack of height my prick was a decent size, and my nuts were already hanging down, ready for the work out they were going to get. The only thing that looked a bit off was the lack of any hair down there, but then you can't have everything I guess.

Still I couldn't stand there all day, there were things waiting for me in my bedroom. Things I very much wanted to get on with. And those things would, hopefully all be upstairs in my bedroom.

The room was just like I remembered it. And it was totally 'my' room even though it probably didn't look like it as although no doubt it had been cleaned since then and there were clean sheets on the bed and all that, everything else had been left just the way I'd left it last time. So it looked just like a prep school dorm room.

Funny thing was, during my first visit to GG's house this room had just about everything any young boy would want. A big TV, a digital video recorder, full satellite access, state of the art gaming computer, along with all the big consoles, and yet now none of that was there any more. It was just a plain room, with a metal framed bed, made up with sheets and blankets, with a bare wooden bedside table, a large chest at the foot of the bed. There was a wardrobe over one side with a full lenth mirror, and on the other the wooden flip top desk with attached chair where I'd spent so much time doing homework that no teacher was ever going to mark.

Standing there, naked all the memories of everything I'd got up to in that room came back to me, instantly leading to an erection that I would have to ignore if I was going to get on with things. Thankfully the perfect destruction was sitting on the end of the bed.

It was the parcel I'd order online. Or rather the first of several parcels I'd ordered. It was no real surprise that it was there, as GG had already told me that it had arrived, but all the same I was pleased to see it, and so was my prick which reared up that little bit more as I went over to it.

In a somewhat spooky imitation of the story I was following GG had left a note on top of the box, just like Steven's Uncle Mark had done. BOth of them contained a note, but while mine was just a general greeting from my Great-Granddad, along with some household stuff, Steven's had contained some bronze padlocks and instructions where to find some more personal items. Of course I didn't need those instructions. Everything I needed, including my version of those padlocks were in the box.

It took me a frustrating ten minutes to get the box open as it was covered in double layers of this anti-tamper tape with bits of fibres running through it, to prevent the box being opened 'accidently' which is good, but not when you're desperate to see what's inside.

The contents were just as mentioned in the story, of course. Four leather cuffs, two for my wrists and two for my angles that matched the collar I was already wearing, having the same wide strap and a buckle with a metal post where a padlock could go. There were of course, numerous matching padlocks that all used the same keys, rather than just the four I would need to put them on, but some of those were for later.

Picking up the first one, I found it felt heavier than it looked, but the leather was soft as I buckled it around my right ankle, and felt even better once I'd snapped the first padlock in place. And it felt even better still when I had all four on, and was heading over to the mirror to see how they looked.

"I look totally hot in this stuff!" I repeated the line from the story, but at the same time realising that it was also true. I did look hot in that stuff, which is something I'd always had trouble imaging as, well it's only a few bits of bands of leather, and yet it made me look weirdly more naked, which had nothing to do with the way my prick was still bouncing around in a way that was demanding I had a wank. Only I knew I couldn't. Not yet anyway. There was more stuff to put on first although one thing was missing.

There should have been a chest harness for me to wear but those things were expensive, and I hadn't been totally sure those I'd been able to find would have even fitted me, as they were made for adults not short, slender teenagers so I'd have had to have one made especially for me, like Steven's Uncle Mark had done, which was serious money. Plus, it was never really used in the story, so even as much as I wanted one, I figured I could skip it.

What I could easily afford though was a two foot length of thick chain, that was to go between my ankles, padlocked on either one to stop me from being able to run, whilst constantly reminding me about my status as a boy slave, as it dragged on the floor.

There were several more items in the box, most of which I had ever seen in real life before but again, unlike Steven I knew exactly what these were for even before I picked them up, yet all the same I wasn't going to use them yet. I had to take a couple of them downstairs first. The others were for later.

Walking back downstairs with a chain hobbling your ankles together wasn't a totally new experience for me as I'd tried out a lot of this stuff back home, just to make sure I could do it on my own, but it was strangely exciting to be controlled like that.

Once on the ground floor I did something Steven hadn't had to, making a tour of the house, to do all the security checks that GG insisted upon, and which were all totally pointless anyway, as if a burglar was good enough to get past the alarm, then a fourteen year old boy wasn't going to stop them. Especially a naked one with his feet chained.

I ended my tour in the living room, where I opened up the doors leading out onto the little patio area, where GG had his barbecue set up. It wasn't a real one, as it was fed by gas, but I'd thought it was the bee's knees, until he'd shown me how to build a real camp fire when I was an evacuee and cook that way. But I wasn't really dressed, or undressed to do that so the outside grill would have to do.

Once the grill was started up I returned to the kitchen where went through the fridge and cupboards noting that GG had stocked them all up with teenager's food, so there was plenty of burgers to pick from, along with everything that you could possible want to go with them. All of which I put on a tray and carried back out to the patio ready to make myself some supper.

However, before I started, I realised that there really was one problem with cooking when you're naked, especially if you have an erection that just won't quit, and is occasionally leaking pre-cum from the excitement of walking around naked!

Talk about a health and safety violation. Still it was one that could be easily solved with the addition of a plastic apron that went over my shoulders and tied snug around my waist.

The cooking didn't take long, even though I like my burgers really well done – none of the MickeyD crap – but all the same I managed to down a full bottle of soda while I was either flipping the meat, or piling stuff onto the bun until it would need both hands to eat it, rather than a couple of fingers as at the fast food places.

I should really have done some chips to go with the burger, and had a beer too, just like Steven did, but truth was, I couldn't be bothered with the former and I never much liked the latter, so I just stuck with the soda, as I sat on the outside chairs, where I could eat in peace, with my chained ankles swinging back and forth.

At this point in the story Steven asks his Uncle when he realised he was gay, and gets the reassurance that it was okay for him to be gay too, which was nice. Also nice was the point the Uncle made that even straight boys can like being tied up and/or being naked, it doesn't make them gay, which I'd found reassuring when I'd read it, even if I already knew I was probably gay, even if I'd done nothing about it with another person yet. What I had done, on my own, rather proved that, and would continue to prove that during the rest of my summer.

Thinking about stuff made my prick twitch again, which was good. Well obviously it was good as it's what every teenage boy lives for, but it also fitted in perfectly with the story as this was the point where Steven gets wanked off by someone else for the first time. And then the second time.

The same thing happened to me, although I had to play both parts, both the wanker and the wankee, which wasn't that difficult given that it was something I'd been practising for years, although usually not twice on the trot, or so fast.

It had to be a frantic wank, just like in the story, so I worked swiftly and firmly, rubbing my prick up and down, not stopping for anything. Not my moans, not my head throwing back. Not my sighs. Not anything. Not my toes curling. Not my body stiffening. Not the familiar burning in my nuts, or anything, until I was coming.

A wild shriek escaped from my mouth, my body shook in a way that if I'd been standing like Steven had, I'd have needed someone to hold me up too. Instead I just stayed sat on the edge of the chair, as my cum shot right where I pointed it, down onto the floor between my feet.

That wasn't the end of it though, as even though my prick was starting to deflate I kept on wanking, coaxing another cum out of myself even though my prick was quickly becoming sensitive following my first one as I continued to drain my balls.

It took another minute that was almost sheer torment, but also more pleasurable than I could have ever imagined, which was just as well as it was the last one I'd be having for some time, thanks to the cock cage.

This was the only reason Steven had got his wank, to make his prick soft enough for the small rubber ring through which both is prick and nuts had to pass, and which once in place, pulled them all out from my body in a way that felt very exposed, but at the same time, very sexy.

Despite the double wank I'd only just had, it was still surprisingly tricky not to get another erection as the as I picked up the small cigar shaped tube that was to be placed on my prick and once locked to the ring, would prevent me from getting stiff again.

"Oh, man!" I moaned again using Steven's words, when his young penis had been held in a permanent downward curve with absolutely no room inside the cage for it to expand, meaning that erections were totally impossible.

At this point in the story Steven sucks his Uncle off, and whilst doing so, oddly remembers the time he'd sucked of one of his mates from school, who had then refused to suck him back as that was 'totally gay.'

Now I couldn't really do either of those things as I didn't have an uncle, and I didn't have that memory either. But there was something I could do, so I could do everything Steven did.

The dildo was seven inches [18 cm] long, just the same size Uncle Mark claimed to be in the story. It also claimed to be the most realistic one the online sex store sold, complete with fake balls at the bottom, but more importantly it had a large sucker on the base that allowed me to stick it onto the seat of one of the chairs so it would be just as if someone was sitting there.

Dropping down to my knees, I knelt in front of the chair, caressing the dildo as if I'd never touched it before, which obviously I had done. Then copying Steven, I shuffled forward on my knees. Moved my hands down to my own legs and took the end of the dildo in my mouth.

It wasn't the first time I'd done this, yet it felt so very different this time as my soft warm lips wrapped around the dildo and slowly slipped down until I had more than half of it in my mouth.

My head started to bob up and down as I really went to town on the fake cock. I even used my tongue to lick at it just like Steven was instructed to do, even though I knew it would make no difference but that didn't matter. In my mind's eye I was just little slave boy slut, with a collar locked around my neck, leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles, and a cock cage stopping me from getting my own erection.

Turned on my the entire situation, I started to suck harder and harder, bobbing my head back and forth along the dildo's long thick hard shaft until I started to coke a little.

"Mmph, mmph!" I tried to talk with the dildo still in my mouth even though no one had asked me not to rush so much.

My own prick was straining inside its little plastic prison, and I could even see it if I looked down past the dildo my lips were wrapped around, knowing full well that if the cage hadn't been there then I would have been fully erect again. So clearly the chastity device was doing its job.

Suddenly I felt the extra money I'd spent on the high tech dildo paying off, as it grew that little bit in my mouth signalling that it was about to come and sure enough as my eyes closed in anticipation, the dildo began to spasm wildly in my mouth, as a slightly salty milk like substance was shoot into the back of my throat.

I swallowed as fast as I could, but couldn't help several gobs from escaping from my lips and rolling down my chin but I kept the dildo in my mouth until it had totally finished just as if my head was being held in place.

Finally I leant back, remaining on my knees, as the fought to catch my breath before I got settled down for the night.

It wasn't all that late when I went to bed, but I was starting to feel rather tired, both from the long, dull, journey and all the excitement I'd had since my arrival that had started with being handcuffed in a locked dog collar. Then I'd put on bondage gear, and a cage on my prick, before sucking off a dildo on the back patio. So I was pretty much ready for some such eye, although there was something I had to do first.

The chains came from GG's store of stuff. Four of them, all heavy and easy enough to anchor to the corners of the metal framed bed with some nuts and self locking bolts. Which left some trailing on the mattress.

With the bed ready, it was time to get something else out of my mail order box. Something that was made of rubber, round and bulbous at one end, before tapering down and flanging back out at the end. Or in other words a butt plug.

I'd never seen a real one before so just like Steven had done, albeit without much of his disbelief, I examined it, seeing how the narrow part near the base would make it stay inside once it was in, and it would be staying in for some time. Only coming out when I needed to use the toilet, and while it might hurt a little the first few times it goes in, as it stretched my bum hole open, I knew from experience that I'd soon grow to love it.

However this wasn't the first time I'd put something up my bum, and that wasn't just because Steven had either. I'd done it even before I knew about the story was now following and yet, what I'd done were surprisingly similar to what Steven had done.

It had started with my finger, but hadn't moved on to a hotdog like Steven had done as unlike him I'd realised they were too soft and just wouldn't work. What would work, were all sorts of other things. Basically anything that was round and long enough to prod at that special place up inside there. Something that the plug would be doing all the time.

I got down on my hands and knees just like Steven was instructed to do, although I did have to use my hands so instead of being on all fours all the time, I was mostly on three, or even just my knees all the time as I got both myself and the plug ready for where it was going.

A large pot of lubricant had come free with my order from the online sex store, so I could be really generous as I applied a liberal amount of the jelly to my bum hole. Sliding my finger, and then fingers, well inside in order to loosen myself up ready for the plug.

"Take a deep breath and try to relax." Steven's Uncle had told him so that's what I did sucking in a big gulp of air as I aimed the big plug at my hole.

Like I said I'd had several things up my bum before so it could well have been easier for me to take the butt plug than it was for Steven, but all the same as it slid relentlessly into me, I did shriek a little as the widest part went through, and then relaxed as the plug became nestled neatly in my bum.

Carefully I stood up. A task that was now slightly awkward due to the plug moving around inside me making me realise that I was never going to be able to ignore it, and neither was my prick which was now attempting to swell up uselessly from what the plug was doing inside me.

And then I sat on the bed.

The sudden extra preassure of my slight body weight resting directly on top of the plug sent a shit right through me that, could have caused me to come right there had I not already been drained dry. All the same I moved quickly to a lying position to take some of the pressure off.

It was only to be a temporary relief as I needed to sit up again in order to remove the chain that connected my ankles to each other so that I'd be able to spread out to the four corners of the mattress whilst remaining exactly in the centre of the bed.

The chains attached to the bed needed a little adjustment in length so that three of the little brass locks could be fastened into place to the leather cuffs.

The fourth lock was the trickiest one to do as obviously I had to do that one handed. This meant it would be looser than the others, and I also used a different lock. This could be opened with a key like the others, but also had a built in timer that would release the lock after a certain number of hours had passed. In this case nine hours.

When all was done, I did what Steven had done, testing the limits of my bondage, moving my arms and legs as far they would go, which wasn't that far at all, in the spread-eagled position I had put myself in. All the while my prick was trying to get erect inside the snug confines of the little plastic tube, but getting no where.

There was nothing I could do about that, especially as any wiggling in the chains just caused the butt plug to jab me in the place that would make me get hard, turning the entire experience into a vicious circle, that would never give up.

Steven had worn a blindfold on his first night in bondage, but I had decided against that for safety reasons, so while he'd been able to see nothing I had my full vision right up to the point where the bedroom lights were snapped off by the timer switch I'd connected to them.

It wasn't totally dark in the bedroom even with the lights out, as the moon was still full, casting shadows here and there, whilst a gentle breeze blew in the partially open windows across my naked body, laying there helplessly chained on top of my bed.

If I lay completely still I could hear random noises coming from outside, as if there were people close by who could discover me at any moment, but I knew there weren't and even if they did know I was there they wouldn't be able to get to me due to GG's security, yet just the thought they might was enough to give my prick to attempt yet another fight with the cock cage. WHich it naturally lost.

I was both tired and tied, but I didn't know which one would win out, as I needed sleep to counter the early morning I had in store, but on the other hand, sleeping or even relaxing when tied up wasn't that easy as I already knew.

I'd been tied up several times before while at GG's, not that GG knew about them as even when I was a little kid I knew there were some things adults didn't need to know about but what else were you meant to do when you were playing at Cowboys and Indians and you were wearing a loin cloth.

It was during my summer as an evacuee that this happened. During one of the many games GG played as a boy with the evacuee lads although just how he always got to be the cowboy he never really explained but that happened in the games we played too.

Anyway the games sounded fun, running around like that shooting each other and such like, but of course I didn't have a loin cloth but they turned out to be really easy to make as all you needed was an old belt and some cloth. The belt went around your waist as normal, and the cloth was threaded through your legs and tucked under the belt at both the back and from, and left hanging down.

The first time I wore it over the 1940s grey shorts GG had got me, but that didn't seem right so the neck time I wore it over the linen undershorts that I had but that wasn't right either, and I ended up wearing it just like the real Indians did, with nothing on underneath. Not only that, I went further, adding a headband made from a strip of cloth around the short-back-and-sides (the boy's haircut of the time) and stuck some feathers in it. Then using some watercolour paints , added some lines to my bare chest, arms and legs, so that I would really look the part.

GG laughed when he first saw me all done up in my costume, but he did say that some of the real evacuees had done the same, and that pleased me as I was getting really excited by being so very nearly naked, but at the same time decent, as the loin cloth covered me every bit as much as a swim suit would have done, at least from the front. The sides were another matter as other than where the belt crossed my hips, you could see my skin all the way from my neck down to my feet.

Anyway the game got under way and was great fun for the first hour or so, but then GG said he couldn't chase me any more as he 'wasn't eleven anymore' which was true enough so rather than running away from him to shoot my invisible arrows back from behind some hedge I let him catch me.

"Got you, you pesky little Indian," GG said when he caught up with me, spinning me around and taking the cord he had hanging on the side of his jeans wrapped it around my chest, loosely, before backing me up to a pole supporting the washing line and tying it off, and the going for a sit down.

It wasn't the tightest I would be tied up and truth be told I could have easily got out of it just by shrugging my shoulders but I didn't. I just stood there, no daring to move for one very good reason. The moment the rope had gone around my torso, my little willy had got so stiff that it was in danger of coming out the side of the loin cloth.

I knew what it was, and drew the instant conclusion that I was enjoying the game and that I would enjoy it even more if there was no one else around.

GG returned after about half an hour, during which time he'd managed to catch a small nap in the deck chair on the other side of the lawn, but before he untied me, he pulled out the hose and under the pretense of washing off the war pain, totally soaked me from top to bottom.

Naturally this left the loin cloth not just wet through but clinging to me both around the buttocks and especially on the willy, which despite the coldness of the water remained semi hard so that I had to make a quick dash back inside once I was released.

It was the next day that I took things a little bit further. GG had gone out somewhere – I don't remember where – leaving me alone in the house as he often did, trusting me much more than my own parents did and for the first time (of many) I took advantage of that.

In my bedroom I stripped down and put on the loin cloth, along with the headdress, the war paint but nothing else leaving me feet totally bare, and then went looking for something to tie myself up with.

Shed of Stuff was well named as it had everything that anyone could possible want for just about any possible occasion that could come up. So it didn't take me long to find what I wanted, namely several lengths of soft cord, including the length that GG had used the previous time. Then it was over to the washing line to get tied up.

For a while I pondered just how I was going to do this, as I knew that just wrapping the cord around my torso wasn't really being tied up, but I'd seen enough cheesy cowboy flicks on day time TV know how it should be done, and set to work.

First I tied my ankles together, by the simple method of just wrapping the rope around them several times and then knotting it off. I knew nothing about clinching the rope or anything really about how to tie someone up, but it seemed to do the job, especially once I'd repeated the process around my knees.

Now it was time for something that GG hadn't done. He hadn't gagged his prisoner, yet in every movie prisoners were always gagged, so I'd bought a strip of cloth with me for just that purpose. Of course I didn't really know how to do that either so the first thing I tried was the one I'd seen most often of just tying the cloth around the bottom half of my face. This was totally ineffective as it didn't stop my mouth from moving, or me from talking, so I tried something else.

The second attempted worked much better, as I spun the cloth into more a rope and then put that over my mouth. This didn't actually stop me from talking but gave me the idea for something that would, as when I opened my mouth to test it, the cloth went inside, and although still loose it made it tricky to talk. All I had to do was push it all the way inside my mouth and then tie it tightly and I wouldn't be able to say anything above a mumble.

Once gagged it was time to move on to the tricky part. Tying my hands which I wanted to do behind the post this time, but of course I couldn't see what I was doing. Thankfully I had an idea to get around this. First I tied the cord around one of my wrists so I wouldn't drop it and put a larger double slip knot in the other end. Now when I put my hands behind the pole, I put both wrists through the larger loop and then tugged it closed, the double knot would prevent it from slipping back, unless I pulled really hard at it.

It wasn't the greatest act of what I would later learn was self-bondage, as I still wasn't really tied up, but compared to what had gone before it sure felt like the real thing to my eleven year old self, and sure enough my willy had gone stiff as anything, until it was actually pushing out the front of the loin cloth, in a less that subtle way.

That's how I remained for over half an hour. Standing upright with my back to the pole, and with an erection that I couldn't get my hands anywhere near, no matter how much I wanted to.

Every now and again I would struggle against the ropes that held me. Not enough to actually loosen them of course, just enough to add as much realism to the game as I could, all the while mumbling through the gag as if I was shouting for help.

Of course the real reason I did all the attempted moving about had nothing to do with trying to escape and a lot to do with making my erection move about inside the loin cloth, where the tip of the head, having poked through the foreskin, was now rubbing against the soft cloth in a way that could drive a young boy wild, and would have too, had my erection not eventually managed to escape.

Suddenly there was a flash of fresh air around my groin, and looking down I could see the full length of my hardness poking out the side of the loin cloth, waggling around as I moved, which was at first funny and then more erotic than anything I'd even thought of before.

The game ended pretty soon after that point, when I heard GG returning home.

In a manor of seconds I was out of the ropes, in the house and back in my bedroom, where it only took a few well practised motions of my right hand to get my willy back to its normally droopy state, and then my body back into the shorts, shirt and sleeveless jumper that was my evacuee costume, ready to great GG once more.

Despite being chained up, plugged and cock caged I slept rather well that first night, just not for very long at a time. It was after all my first night sleeping like this and I could only hope it would get easier as the time went on, especially as I was actually on the bed, which I wouldn't be every night.

Yes every time I did manage to nod off, I would attempt to shift in my sleep which would cause the plug to jab me in a place right up inside my bum that would cause my prick to wake up just enough to become uncomfortable inside the plastic tube.

What followed then was me trying to think of anything other than where I was, what I was doing, or what I was going to do. Recalling the time I was a capture Indian didn't help matters that just caused my prick to leak sticky clear stuff, all over my groin which certainly didn't add to my comfort.

There were various points during the night when I just wanted to get out of the chains, rip off the cage and wank myself silly, but thanks to the timer padlock I couldn't do that, so instead I just had to make the most of it until such time as I was released and that wouldn't happen until it was daylight.

I woke up for the final time, with the sun coming through the windows on the far side of the room, shining directly onto my face, causing me to blind wildly for several seconds until I could get used to it.

Oddly this time, my first thought had nothing to do with the way I was chained up, or even the plug and cage I was wearing but rather that I probably shouldn't have drunk all that soda the previous night as I was dying for a wee.

Instantly my mind recalled what Steven's uncle had told him when he'd been in the same position, threatening with having to wear a nappy, to which the boy had been outraged, until his uncle had reminded him that he had to wear whatever he was given. Going on to tease him further about getting some with little teddybears on.

It was an interesting image to me, and thankfully managed to distract me for long enough so that I didn't wet the bed, before the lock securing my right wrist to the chain finally sprung open. However once it had the need to wee came back, seemingly ten fold.

A mad dash followed as I used my free hand to release first my other hand, and then my ankles, groaning a little as leaning forward to reach my legs caused my body weight to rest once more on the plug, which now seemed to connect directly to my bladder, making releasing myself even more urgent.

Thankfully the toilet was next door to my bedroom, so I didn't have to go far although once there I faced the same issues that Steven had. How do you wee with a cock cage on?

The answer was that you sat down, like a girl did, as you couldn't aim anymore, and going for a wee certainly wasn't a good enough reason to take the cage completely off as that would only lead to having a wank, if only to get the thing back on again, and that was against the rules.

What I found out, and which wasn't actually mentioned in the story is that when you sit on the toilet with a cage on, you actually have to sit all the way back, as the ring around the base of your prick, pushes it so far forward that if you sat normally you'd still end up peeing on the floor. The issue with that being that if you sat that far back, then most of your bum wasn't in the hole in the toilet seat but on the actual seat, including the plug, which gave your prick totally mixed signals.

The plug though, like the cock cage, wasn't going to be removed unless the person in charge said so. Okay so in my case that was me, so in theory I could have removed it at any point, but that would have gone against the spirit of the story so I wasn't about to do that. Instead I stuck to the plot line as I'd read it which, as it happened meant the next time I removed the plug it would be to give myself an enema.

Unlike Steven I'd never actually had an enema before, as although I'd been sick a few times they clearly weren't give for any sort of treatment in my neighbourhood as they had been in whatever area it was that Steven had grown up in. So that was something to look forward to. And yes, I actually was looking forward to it, as I loved having things up my bum so how different could an enema be to the plug that was already there.

Before that, however it was time to do what every good little slave boy did. Chores.

These were a mixture of the things GG had asked me to do, and for which he would pay me. Money which I was then free to spend on anything I wanted, given that mum didn't know about it, so couldn't insist that it was saved.

There were also a few other chores that I'd thought of myself, based largely upon what Steven had done for his Uncle. All of them were standard things though, nothing kinky or anything like that. At leas they wouldn't have been had I not been doing them totally nude, but for the leather collar, cuffs, cage and plug that was now my uniform along with a set of leg irons.

Well I should have had a set of leg irons like Steven had, but there was no way I would be able to get hold of a real antique set but then it had never been explained in the story just where Uncle Mark had got them from either. So I just had to make do with putting the chain back on connecting my ankles again.

For the next few hours I was busy with my chores, watering the plants scattered around GG's house, emptying all the bins from the various rooms into the big bin out behind the garage, and finally sweeping off the patio ready for my lunch. All the things I hated doing at home but which I now enjoyed, just down to what I was – or rather – wasn't wearing.

Yet, as I worked away, I couldn't help thinking back to all the new things that I was doing, and forward to the things I was going to do. So far it had almost all be every bit as fun as I'd imagined it would be, with perhaps the sole exception being the butt plug which like Steven I was still in two minds about. At time it could be really uncomfortable, yet at others when it pushed that spot inside me, it was the greatest thing on earth, especially once I found out that if I walked in a certain way or wiggled my hips a bit, I could get it to feel even better.

The down side to all of that was my prick being trapped as that just continued to leak and drip as if even though it wasn't hard, it was just getting over excited all the time, until I was wondering if I could actually cum without having an erection.

At the end of the chores it was time for breakfast, or more accurately brunch, which according to my script was scrambled eggs and bacon, so that suited me fine, even if it did mean cooking in the nude again.

The bacon turned out to be something of a challenge, as it was the well fatty stuff that GG likes – Mum always gets the fat cut off type – which does taste loads better, but spits all over the place which really isn't what you want when you're naked.

Still it all turned out okay, unlike Steven's in the story which got burnt due to him kissing his Uncle but this time I was pleased there was no one there with me even if I did quite fancy the idea of kissing someone, given that I hate rubbery eggs and charcoaled bacon.

The second downside of GG's bacon came once I'd finished eating during the clean up, as those little spits of fat, now set, were a bugger to get off, but it was part of my new duties to keep everything neat and tidy, so I got on with it as quickly as I could even though I knew the next part of my day would also involve cleaning. Me this time and from the inside out. Literally.

Half an hour later and I was up in the big bathroom – my one was a bit small for what I was about to do – with the enema equipment all set up ready only now I could see the hot water bottle, the tube and the nozzle I really wasn't so sure.

It wasn't so much the fact that something was going to go up my bum, as I never had any issues about that as ever since I was a really little kid I loved playing with my hole almost as much as I did with my willy. Yet the bottle looked a lot bigger than I thought it was going to be, and I wasn't sure I could actually take all that water.

However as had been explained to Steven, enemas were part of a slave boy's life. He had no control over anything, including going to the toilet. It would also be one of only two events that would cause the plug to be removed from his bum. So it had to be done, and that was that. If the slave boy made a fuss then he would have to be punished.

Being on my own meant I couldn't just get down on all fours, close my eyes and wait for it to happen which was probably a good thing in this case, as it meant I could keep my mind from the results and just be practical about the entire thing.

It was my first time doing a proper enema, thankfully I had instructions from the what GG calls the 'font of all knowledge' or the 'internet' as I call it, and I followed them carefully.

Taking the big rubber bottle over to the sink, I ran the water until it was tepid, neither too hot or too cold, as both of those could cause problems. Then when it was, I filled the bottle up almost to the top, but leaving enough room for stopper to go into the neck, with a bit of air space.

The stopper itself screwed in like a regular hot water bottle stopper, but it had a tube coming out of it, that contained a small tap near the other end, while the end itself I'd screwed into the nozzle that would soon be up my bum. Again.

Hanging the water bottle on the side of the empty towel rail, I got down on the floor where I'd laid out the largest towel I could find. Crouching as I reached back between my legs to locate the end of the butt plug still stuffed up my bum, and slowly started to remove it.

Oddly it had never occurred to me that taking the plug out would sting as much as putting it in had done. Whenever I'd previous put stuff up my bum, I'd barely even registered that part of the operation,but then those things had never been inside me as long as this had, so perhaps that's the reason I gave a little shriek as it popped out of me.

Suddenly I felt really sort of empty back there, but this wasn't going to last as the nozzle would take care of that. Still before that happened my bum hole got a visit from it's oldest friend, my right hand forefinger, which I used to add some more lubricant around the opening ready for the nozzle.

It was cold. That was my first thought as the nozzle slipped into my back door. My second thought being that it really ain't as big as it looked, and certainly went in a lot easier than it had the first time I'd found it. Mind you back then, I hadn't known about lubricants so that hadn't helped. Now I was an expert, so that probably had a lot to do with it even so what I did next was totally knew to me.

Reaching back along the tube coming out from between my buttocks I located the small tap and turned it, starting the water flowing.

It took a few seconds before anything started to happen, but when it did I was soon aware that I was being filled up. My prick even noticed and started to harden, or at least try too, throbbing against the cock cage, before going soft again, and then starting the entire thing all over again.

There was a point, which turned out to be about half way through the procedure, that I just had to turn off the tape and take a few minutes to get used to what was going on, only to restart it.

When the flow stopped the second time it wasn't down to me. Well I guess it was in some ways, as I'd managed to take all the water inside me, and just where it had gone was fairly obvious given the way my belly was hanging down, like I'd just got pregnant or something.

There was a set amount of time that Steven had been told to keep the enema inside him, but just how long that had been hadn't been laid out in the text, which was just as well as it was only a few, or perhaps even a couple of minutes, before I was yanking that nozzle out of my bum and heading for the toilet.

It only took a split second to get rid of what had taken nearly ten minutes to get in there, and by the end of it, I felt more empty than I ever had done before.

ONe thing was sure, once the enema was over, it sure was a lot easier to put the butt plug back in place, and it even felt loads more comfortable once it was in there. Like it was smaller or something, so clearly there was a good point to having an enema, which was just as well, as I'd be having more of them in the future.

First though it was time to hit the shops.

What should have happened next, at least according to Steven's Summer in Chains, was that Steven put on a tiny purple Speedo, that was a least three years out of date, and which only just covered him, so he and his Uncle go to a sea-side beach. Then after that, they got dressed and went shopping for clothes for Steven to wear that would show him off even more.

The problem was that GG's house was no where near the beach, and it really wasn't the weather for that anyway, being all overcast, so walking around in a Speedo would have just looked plain odd. Not that I actually owned a Speedo in the first place, at least not yet, so I skipped that bit and went straight for the shorts thing, although I did put my own little twist on it, as they weren't just any old pair of baggy shorts like Steven wore, but school shorts. Proper great school shorts, and what's more I wore the rest of the uniform too, just like I had done the year before.

The shorts had been a good fit when I was twelve, as after all they don't really make school shorts for boys that age anymore, but now I was fourteen, they were even tighter, really showing off my bum and even my bulge at the front, not to mention nearly all of my legs as well.

Still once I'd got the crisp white shirt on, the neatly knotted tie, the socks pulled up to my knees and turned over to show the same colours as the tie, the polished dress shoes, the blazer and the little cap, I found I still looked the part. The part being not so much an actually prep school boy, anymore, but rather an older boy who was being made to dress up like one as a punishment.

I got this idea from a great story called "Peter Put Back Into Shorts", in which this very thing happens at some posh school and is then continued back at the boy's home with his mates joining in and them all having a jolly great time, playing at little kids. Okay so the plot got a big mixed up towards the end, with odd situations involving a camping trip as cubs, and lots more sex than the story actually warranted, but I loved the concept so much I'd always wanted to try it out which is why I wore shorts so much of the time at home. Only there I didn't have a proper prep school uniform, while at GG's house I did. So now was my chance.

The uniform felt as good as it had done last time, although the additions I was wearing underneath it did cause some issues. The leather collar around my neck meant I couldn't do the top shirt button up, and the padlock holding the collar closed, tended to jump about a bit if I moved too fast which was annoying. Just not as annoying as the plug up my bum, which I'd sort of got used to but which now, trapped inside the tight shorts, went right back to rubbing me up (and down) the wrong way all the time.

Then there was cock-cage, which got pushed back into me but yet still managed to push out the front of my shorts, so much that it looked like I had a sock stuffed down there. Still at least if anyone saw it they'd be in no doubt that I wasn't the little kid, everything had taken me for last time. Little kids just didn't fill their shorts like I was doing and, anyway, they shouldn't be looking at me like that anyway. Even if I rather hoped they would.

On the serious side, I still wasn't too sure about going out with the plug still inside me, as by the time I got back home again it would have been inside me for almost eighteen hours, and Steven had been given the choice to remove his before he'd gone shopping, but had declined. So I figured if he could then I could. And yes I know he's fictional and everything, but still it was like a challenge to live out the story just how it was written. At least where I could.

Steven and his Uncle had ridden into town alone in a convertible sports car along a coastal highway. Meanwhile, I took the same little shopper bus down endless country lanes, with more little old ladies than you can imagine being in one place at a time, back towards the station at which I'd arrived the day before.

I sat at the back, like teenage boys always do but in the middle seat, so that anyone getting on would be able to see me, just so I could see their reaction to how I was dressed. After all, half the fun in getting dressed up is seeing out other people see you. Of course, the same is true of those boys that get forced to wear stuff to humiliate them, especially their peers, but as far as I could tell there was no one under the age of seventy who lived where GG did, so that wasn't going happen. Not that I knew anyone around there, so it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

The old ladies more often than not smiled when they saw me, all neatly dressed, and I could hear them talking to each other in those over loud whispers that people who's hearing is going use, about how smart I looked, and stuff like that, which I found fun. It was even more fun when, just as we were about to get to the station one commented that to her friend that it was a shame no one had taught me to sit still and not fidget. I could only imagine what she would think if she knew the real reason I was shuffling in my seat was due to the course seat brushing the backs of my thighs, not to mention the lump of rubber stuffed up my bum, which the bumpy ride kept shoving deeper into me.

Standing on the pavement outside the station, I was momentarily lost, as whenever I'd come into the town with GG we'd park in the spaces up the centre of the wide high street, before heading out, and it took me a few seconds to work out just where that was.

The town was fairly quite which I found both good, as that made it easier to get around on the narrow pavements and passageways that moved between the various streets I wanted to visit, but also disappointed, as I wanted people to notice me. Still I was hear on a mission, not just to sight see.

The shop was called "Male Wear" which pretty much told you what it sold. What it didn't tell you was that everything they sold was also a good ten or perhaps even twenty years out of date. It was also the place where GG had managed to get the uniform I was currently wearing, although just how much could be made selling stuff like that I had wondered at the time. Now though, having read so many stories on the internet of boys and men, who liked to dress in odd ways, I had a much better idea.

"Hello, Can I help you, young sir?" asked the old guy behind the counter in a way that threw me for a second giving him time to recognise me even before I introduced myself, like the polite boy I was pretending to be would do.

"Ah yes, you came in with your... now what did you call him....?"

"GG!" I smiled, recalling how that had made him laugh two years ago, and made some horse noises at my Great-Granddad, who clearly he'd known for longer than forever.

"Ah yes, that's right. And you're still wearing the uniform I see. Tell me how did the experience take you?"

"It was dead good fun." I smiled again, purposely speaking like an old fashioned kid or so I thought anyway.

"Good, good." he nodded before getting back to business, "So what can I help you with this time? And will you be using your GG's tab?"

Saying the name made him smile again, so I was sure GG would be hearing about my visit, so there wouldn't be any harm in charging what I was going to buy to him, especially as he'd already said I could.

Once the finance was sorted out, the shopkeeper left me to have a little look around, even though I knew exactly what I wanted already, and headed directly over to the swim wear section where there was a pair of very short swim trunks that came in two colours: brilliant white and jet black. I was probably going to get both, but first I was going to have a bit of fun just like Steven had had, with the very camp shopkeeper in his story.

"Excuse me, can I try these on?" I asked politely holding up the trunks.

"Sure," came the reply, a hand pointing towards the changing room, that like everything else in the shop – at least as far as I could tell – hadn't moved since I'd last been there.

It was a simple room, about the size of a cupboard, with a door that was about three quarters of the size it should have been and hung in the middle so feet and head were always visible, no doubt to prevent shoplifting.

Speaking of anti-theft devices, the first thing I did when I got in there was check for any, especially cameras, as Steven had got caught out by one of them, and I didn't want my image all over the internet, unless I put it there.

There was nothing, of course. The shop didn't even had a modern till, just one of those with the big buttons on it, and a sign saying they didn't take credit cards. Fact is, they'd probably only got electricity in the last few years, so I was safe as I started to change.

It was all for show as I pulled off my shoes and socks, then dropped my shorts down to the floor so they'd be visible from outside. The blazer and cap I hung on the hook through along with my shirt and tie, before I tried on the trunks.

I wasn't wearing underwear so have to be careful trying stuff on, so went with the black pair rather than the white as I didn't want to be leaving any tell tale stains on them, even though I was going to buy them anyway. It just wasn't worth the embarrassment.

Still as I pulled the short trunks up I knew they were going to really look good on me, what with the material being so breezy and airy, with a silk like feel that only came with the highest quality. They also did a much better job to concealing the out line of the cock cage than I could have imagined from something so tight, meaning I could probably wear them in public without anyone knowing anything was aims.

I bought the shorts, of course, in both colours, and once I'd put my uniform back on left the store, having already done everything I'd wanted to do.

There was still over an hour to kill before the bus returned so I spent the time walking up and down looking for somewhere to have lunch. The town was too old small, too out of the way, and too fashioned to have any of the international fast food places but there were some old style tea rooms, and a café near the station. I choose the latter, most due to the price board, even though the way I was dressed would have fitted in a lot more with the tea rooms GG had taken me too last time I was a prep school boy.

Sitting on the bus on the way back, I placed my hands under my thighs to protect my legs from whatever wire wool they'd made the seats from, and also to take some of my weight from the butt plug that was still stuffed up my bum.

As I rode along I couldn't help comparing myself once more to Steven or more so to how his Uncle, had been amassed how the boy had taken to being plugged, caged and collared, as if it was all perfectly normal. I'd done exactly the same thing, although to be fair, I'd had a lot more warning about what was going on, seeing that I'd thought it all up in the first place.

Most of the time I'd been in town I hadn't even noticed the plug, although I had been concerned from time to time about how it was acting on that special spot, causing my trapped prick to leak inside my shorts. Thankfully they were lined so none of it ran down my leg, as it had done with Steven, which would have been embarrassing. Yet at the same time, the thought of it – the embarrassment – made the cage go tight all over again, and I had to think of something else until I got home, just so the trail down my leg I'd imagined didn't become a reality.

Back at GG's house, I broke one of the rules in not stripping off the moment I was inside the house but that was okay as it was exactly what Steven had done too. However, unlike him I'd done it on purpose, knowing full well that it would lead to a punishment, as I couldn't wait for that punishment to happen. It had, after all been a long time since I'd had a spanking.

Tearing upstairs as fast as my bare legs could carry me, I took my shopping into my room, and only then did I take off the uniform, carefully putting all the clothes away in the correct places. The blazer hanging up in the cupboard with the tie draped around it. The shorts folded into the drawer along side the others. The socks balled up inside each other, in another drawer. The shirt in another one and the cap on a little peg inside the door, ready for the next time, I'd go to school.

Naked now, but for the cuffs, plug and cage, I went to the toilet, squatting over the bowl, which was mostly successful. Then I cleaned up the misses, washed my hands, grabbed some stuff from the delivery box and headed downstairs to my fate.

One of the items was the chain to connect my ankles to each other, which I could have put on up in my bedroom, but that's not how it was done in the story, so I waited until I was in the living room before I locked it into place. Mind you doing it that way, did make the stairs a lot safer!

"I am going to be punished!" I said out loud, once more playing both the roles of Steven and his Uncle at the same time, although always referring to myself in the first person, as to do anything else just seemed weird.

"I'm going to give me a good hard spanking. Bend over and grab your ankles."

Bending over, I clasped my hands around the leather cuffs on my ankles, knowing that it made my bum stick both up and out, in the perfect position for a spanking.

"There will be ten blows," I told myself the rules, "I will count them all, and say 'thank you' after each one. If I forget then it will start again from the beginning. Got it?"

I didn't answer the question I'd asked myself, as I wasn't at the point where I was talking to myself just yet. Tying myself up and spanking myself, was probably enough for now.

Yes I was going to spank myself. That's why I'd skipped the part where Steven has his wrist cuffs chained together, as if I'd done that then I wouldn't be able to do what I had to do. I also couldn't do it whilst bending over, but rather standing up leaning slightly forward. Then reaching one of my arm directly behind my back, I would be able to get the palm of my hand directly onto whichever buttock was on that side. And do it hard too.

SMACK!

It worked, just like I knew it would as after all this wasn't the first time I'd spanked myself. Far from it.

"One. Thank you." I said.

SMACK!

This time when I counted, there was a small squeal first which is how things continued, as I'd become rather good at spanking myself in the last couple of years.

SMACK!

"Ow! THree. Thank you."

SMACK!

"Ouch! Four. Thank you." I gasped before switching personalities to speak Uncle' Mark's lines from the script I was following.

"You've not been spanked much recently have you?"

"No!" I replied, without realising that I was talking to myself now. "I don't get spanked at home much."

"Well perhaps that should change?"

There was no answer to that, as I knew it wouldn't given I could hardly go to school with a red bum, without questions being asked, but then I didn't need to answer it as I'd already spanked myself another time.

"Ow! Five. Thank you."

Another followed without delay.

"Ouch! Six. Thank you."

My bum was starting to really sting by now, much earlier than I would have expected it to do, somewhat proving that it had really been too long since I had been spanked, as I could normally take a lot more than that, as I'd proved on more than one occasion in the past.

"If you cry then I'll give you another ten for being a whimp!" I chastised, even mocked myself, albeit changing the original tease from being a "Pussy!", as that had a much different meaning to me than it clearly had to Steven.

SMACK! SMACK! Two more quickly. One delivered from each of my hands on a different buttock, meaning there was more a gap between them than Steven would have had. All the same I didn't say anything until the second one had landed, in keeping with the realism of my being spanked by someone else.

"Seven. Eight. Thank You." My voice was by now getting a little trill, so that making the next threat wouldn't have sounded right so I kept that in my head, as I promised myself that the next, and last, two blows would be directly in the centre of my bum. In other words right on top of the butt plug.

WHOP!

"Oh!" The extra sensations that caused, near took my breath away, leaving a gap before I said what I had to. "Nine. Thank you!"

WHOP!

"Ow! Oh! OUCH!" I ran through all the words I could to express how I was feeling short of actually swearing, while at the same time reach over to the nearby table in order to maintain my upright position, given I had no one there to do that for me, like Steven had.

"Stand up straight!"

The order came a few minutes later when I'd got myself back together enough to take on the other role once more. My bum was on fire with especially the last two blows having driven the plug even deeper into me, poking rather painfully. Yet despite, or more likely because of this, my prick was still half-hard inside its little cage with a continual stream of the wet stuff trailing out of it.

"Look at you. You bad little boy!" I chastised myself, but even as I said it I had a smirk on my face that undermine what I was saying.

"For the rest of your punishment you are going to stand at attention without moving, and without speaking. Or being able to speak."

I had to move at this point to pick up another item I'd got from mail order.

"It's a ball gag." I told myself, even though I knew that already. I also knew I was going to be wearing it a lot over the summer.

There was a rubber ball at the front, with straps coming out of either side. The ball went into my mouth – right into my mouth behind my teeth – then the straps buckled up around the back of my head with a padlock holding them in place. The key for which was elsewhere in the house.

Now gagged I stood for a few moments getting my breathing under control, the ball in my mouth, forcing me to use my nose only until I was ready to continue.

Moving back in the story line for a moment I used a second length of chain to connect my wrists, then moved over to a corner of the room where I was going to be standing for the next hour or so with my hands behind my head, and my legs slightly spread.

I couldn't actually see a clock from where I was standing – all I could see was wall – so any length of time passing was little more than a guess. But there was one thing I was sure off. Time was suddenly passing a lot slower than it had done at any other time in my life before.

It was about fifteen minutes before I got fidgety, with an inexplicable need to move my legs or wiggle my arms that took all my concentration to fight.

By twenty five minutes I knew I had to think of something else or I was never going to be able to do this which was stupid as I'd stood in the corner after a spanking many times before. Perhaps not in quite the same circumstances but, still, why couldn't I do it now?

It was one of GG's stories from his own school days that would start me spanking myself. It was one of the many things he told me, as I got into character that summer when I was twelve but it was the one that made the most impact.

Up until that point all the various accounts I'd heard, either from GG or from elsewhere, had always involved a boy being punished by a teacher, a parent or some other authority figure, but this was the first time that I'd heard one, in GG's usual level of detail, about a boy being taunted, stripped and spanked by boys his own age. It had me hooked from the start.

Even as GG was telling it, while we had our supper one night, I could feel the inevitable stirring in my shorts, leading to me having to make my excuses from the Sheppard's Pie, so I visit the toilet and take care of business.

That night as I lay in my stripped pyjamas, under the single sheet and blanket my hands had to stay above the covers as that was the rule, but all the same I couldn't help but thing of the scene in my mind albeit with one very subtle, yet drastic change.

When GG had told the story he'd done it from his own perspective, as someone watching the slippering taking place without actually getting involved directly, watching as the victim's rear was turned red as they squirmed but with me it was different. I wasn't watching the scene, I was in it. Not just in it but star, getting his bottom well and truly blistered.

Everything could have stayed there, had it not been for GG loosing his right shoe a few days later. We hunted high and low for that thing and you'll never guess where we eventually found it. Yes, that's right. In the shoe cupboard, with all the other shoes. It became a running joke between the pair of us that if anything was lost it was in that cupboard, but that's not why I remembered it so well, as I'd found something else while I'd been routing around in there.

It – or rather they – were a pair of heavy rubber soled gym shoes, that were similar to the things I wore for P.E. in my prep school guise, but made for an adult and therefore rather more substantial as I was soon to demonstrate.

THWACK! THWACK!

Test blows on a handy dufflebag proved just effective a spanking implement the shoes could be if they were swung hard enough from the heel. Now I just had to wait for a time when I could try it out for myself.

The answer came that very night when GG went out for one of his 'secret' meetings with a women and I was left alone in the house, once more thinking about the story he'd told me and realising just how similar my surroundings were to those at the start of the story.

Those events had happened in the senior boys' dorm of the school GG had gone too. It was after lights out and all the pupils had been invited to see one of their number get his just deserts for squealing on his chums. He was tucked up in his own bed, in the private room, he'd been given for his work as a fifth columnist (this was soon after the Second World War so they still talked like that) while his chums got together to decide his fate. Then, when they were ready they sent some of the bigger lads to go get him. But , such was the code of honour back then, that he knew what was coming and didn't resist everything that happened to him, even offering his own slipper before taking his beating with the solace that only English Prep Schools can bread into a young boy.

I, of course, didn't have a dorm, but I did have a single room dressed like it was in the 1950s so it was easy to imagine the other boys coming to my room to have it out with me. It was also after my designated 'lights out' and I was already in my pyjamas, so that was right too. And, I had a slipper for the occasion, so there was nothing stopping me from re-enacting the scene. So I did.

The odd thing was that up until that moment I'd never really thought of spanking myself before, but now it seemed so obvious, especially as my pubescent erection was already pushing out the front of the plain blue and white stripped pyjamas, that GG had bought for me in that little shop in town. Not that I'd be wearing them for long.

"Strip!"

That was the first command given to the boy when he'd encountered his chums waiting for him and I complied with it in the same hushed silence although there weren't a dozen sets of eyes watching me. Just one. My own, watching my fingers working loose the large buttons on the front of the pyjama jacket and letting it slide down to the floor.

"And the rest!"

Was the next order, making me loosen the cord holding the front of the pyjama trousers together, until they fell down to the floor leaving me with nothing on but the deep blush from my being 'forced' to strip in this way.

There then followed the usual sort of taunting that you get when one boy is naked and the others are not. All of which is centred around the size of his willy, and in particular how small it was, which of course, given what was happened probably had more to do with fear than anything else. Well for the boy in GG's story it did. For me, my erection was still there, so I certainly didn't look like a girl, or a baby, or whatever term they used, down there.

"Get down and bend over the bed!"

I knelt in answer to my own order. SHuffling up to the side of the bed, bending my upper torso over the blanked. Knees pressed tightly together.

"Spread your legs!"

It was a common thing to do back then, in order to humiliate the boy being spanked as much as possible, so he'd feel even more exposed knowing that his private parts – both front and back – would be on display to those gathered around behind him. Not that it embarrassed me, and not just because there was no one actually there, but as I could see my own reflection in the wardrobe mirror so could see my lily white bum, with the tight little hole in the middle and the dangling nut sac underneath. I couldn't see my willy though, as that was stuck hard against my belly, waiting for the spanking to begin. Which it did once I picked up the slipper.

My right arm drew back as far as it could, and I let loose.

SMACK!

A jolt of searing pain ran right through my right bum cheek, followed instantly by a red hot tingling sensation that seemed to last for ages.

SMACK!

The second one, on the other side, was even harder as I discovered that by twisting my torso ever so slightly, I was able to produce a really good stinging blow.

SMACK! SMACK!

I soon got the hang of what I was doing and it wasn't long before I thought I could actually feel my bum turning bright red.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

It was really starting to hurt now yet all the same I knew I was enjoying it by the same way that boys always know if they are enjoying something or not. By the simple fact that my willy wasn't just still erect but that it was twitching and bouncing wildly beneath me whenever the gym shoe swung into my bum.

This hadn't happened in GG's story, or if it had then he hadn't mentioned it, so it was down to me to imagine how the crowd gathered around the spanked boy would have reacted if he'd sprung a stiffy.

Naturally they'd tease him about it, while the little ones giggled behind their hands, and the older ones attempted to compare sizes without being all that obvious about it, while others would cross their legs to hide the lumps in their own night wear. Of course it would also annoy them that their victim would appear to be enjoying his punishment which would lead to a harder spanking. Which it did in my case too.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The shoe went on swinging, even as I started to groan, while my bum started to pay a high price for my overactive imagination.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

My bum was really sore now and I knew I wouldn't be able to take much more of this, yet I still didn't stop.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The blows were coming faster and harder, but not as precise as they once had. Instead I was swinging as rapidly as I could, wildly even in the general direction of my bum, without very much thought or planning at all.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Event hough I was doing it to myself I still attempted to move my bum out of the way, jerking my hips from side to side, or up and down, as if that would make any difference to what was happening.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Tears appeared in the corners of my eyes, so suddenly I didn't even notice them as they first pooled in the corners by my nose and then ran down my face.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

There was no way I was going to be able to take that much more of this and somewhere deep down I knew there was only one way to stop me from carrying on and it was that part of my brain that sent my left hand down between my legs, to find the reaction that had started all this had faded away.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

It didn't take very much from my left hand to get things back where they had been when I'd first heard the account of the old fashioned slippering, and that was despite the pain I was inflicting on myself, or as I thought later, because of it. Whichever it was, I was soon sporting a very hard willy.

Naturally once my erection was back, so were all the feelings that go with one, and even as my left hand went to work on it, my right hand continued with what it had started, spanking my upturned bum, with GG's old gym slipper.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

By the time my right hand was totally out of control, flaying about all over the place, often missing my bum completely, as my body jerked about albeit now for a completely different reason as my dry cum approached.

When the orgasm hit me, the shoe fell from my hand, bouncing on its rubber sole before I in turn, collapsed down onto it, where I remained laying in a quivering heap for longer than I realised.

I ended the session in the same way the story had done with my standing in the corner of the room, with my hands on my head, imagining all the eyes of the other boys in my school carrying out their normal night time regime while taking occasional glances at my well spanked bottom. While, at the same time just savouring the painfully intense and yet wonderful burning sensation in my slightly swollen bum, right up until the moment I heard GG come home when I scampered into bed, resigned to the fact I'd be sleeping on my front for at least a night, or as it turned out, two.

As my time standing in the corner of the living room continued I became aware of the residual sting on my bottom from the spanking that I'd come to really love. Of course there was also the butt plug this time, filing me up, but that wasn't doing much now I was standing still, and neither was the cock cage either, as I didn't have an erection which was odd in my current siltation. It being this question that I was still pondering when the clock alarm signalled the end of my corner time.

Instantly I let out a huge sigh of relief as I lowered my arms, swinging them back and forth as much as I could with them chained together to loosen them up before I bent and twisted my waist, to do the same there, and then crouched down a few times, stretching my legs out. Without thinking I was pretty much doing a warm up session before a game of football, and with good reason as I still had quite a bit of work to do before I could settle down for the night.

After clearing up the little bit of a mess I'd made during the spanking and corner time which was mostly drips from the chastity device, had a drink of water – removing the ball gag first of course and replacing it afterwards – and then I went downstairs.

There was a small, little used down set in the wall right beside the kitchen and it was through that one that I went, carefully navigating down the narrow stairs with my ankles still hobbled by the light chain, which clinked on each of the steps.

At the bottom of the stairs, were two more doors. One led into the garage, which was GG's domain, and the other led into what had once been a storage shed, but which I had since taken over, to store all the things I used on my various scenarios. I'd even struck a deal with GG, that if he wanted a private place to relax in the garage, then I should have one too, and that we weren't permitted into each other's place without permission. Surprisingly he'd not only agreed, but stuck to the arrangement, which is more than my parents would have ever done.

The room wasn't actually anything all that special, but it would soon be as I'd been drawing up some plans of how I could turn it into my version of the dungeon Steven's Uncle had made for him. I'd even gathered many of the items I could want from GG's store of stuff. But it would take several hours work to get it right, so I got on with it working every bit as hard as any slave would have done.

Two, nearly three hours later and it was ready. I wasn't able to do anything about the plain brick walls, nor could I soundproof it with those sconces things, but in my mind, painted walls, even blood red ones, didn't seem right, and it wasn't like there was anyone to hear me anyway.

What I could do was slot together the spare metal framed bed with it's thin mattress covered by a thin sheet. I could also use an older rectangular solid wood table, onto which I attached some rings in various places, and do the same to a smaller wooden bench.

There was a drain in the floor next to a large sink that would do as a wash area, when I put a short length of hose on the tape and hung it up from the ceiling like a shower.

On nails sticking out of the walls I hung all the bits of ropes, lengths of chain, belts and just about anything else I could find that could possible be used to tie someone up with. I even hung some from the ceiling and not just for effect either.

On the little wheeled trolly thing I found, I placed my collection of spanking tools, starting with a wooden spoon, heading up to a large paddle, with the likes of a hairbrush, strap and of course, GG's old gym shoe somewhere in the middle. Next to them were all the remaining items from my internet mail order package, all in easy reach.

The best thing though was the old dog cage that I'd painstakingly taken from where it had been sitting outside, unbolting each section so I could bring it through the house and down into the basement – it would have been quicker to bring it through GG's garage of course, but I wasn't going to break my side of the agreement – and then reassemble it in the corner of the room, knowing full well that it was big enough to take a large dog or a teenaged boy.

Then the final thing I did was to arrange around the walls anything I could find that was reflective so that I would be able to see just what I was doing from any angle that I wanted too. Of course the best thing would have been to get some web cams set up, but as horny as I was, I wasn't stupid enough to film what I was doing, or even take photos even though that did happen in Steven's Summer in Chains. I'd just read too many other stories where boys enjoying themselves on their own, had got caught out that way and I wasn't about to let that happen to me.

When all was done, I went back upstairs for another drink, again removing the ball gag so I could swallow the water, which hadn't happened to Steven but then he'd just walked downstairs into a fully constructed dungeon, so he probably wasn't as hot and sweaty as I was, by the time he was ready to have some more fun.

Moving to the centre of the room, in full view of all the makeshift mirrors, I stood with the trolley next to me, beneath two chains that hung down from the roof. Just a few inches separated them, and in the story, Steven had been attached to them with his feet up high in the air. I couldn't do that, as if I did I wouldn't have been able to do anything else, but I had a way around that, I just couldn't do it yet.

The reason I couldn't do that was due to the fact that I had to be able to bend down so I could remove the hobbling chain between my ankle cuffs and replace it with a two foot long metal bar that had a loop at either end to which I could padlock one each of my ankles. This, I'd learnt from my reading, was a spreader bar, used to keep someone's legs far apart to both living room them and to give easy access to everything between their legs.

It felt great to have my legs open like that, and not be able to close them, so it was well worth having to change the order around a bit to be able to put it on. Once it was in place though I would no longer have any reason to bend down, as everything I needed was on the trolley beside me, so picking up two spring clips I nattily attached the two ceiling chains to the sides of the collar I'd been wearing for twenty four hours.

The chains weren't as tight as Steven's probably had been, for safety reasons as I didn't want to choke on them. The spring clips were used for the same reason, as with them there was no danger of a dropped key, which as I couldn't bend down, would have been a major problem. As it was I could easily reach down to the trolley, even if I couldn't actually see what I was feeling for.

It was something from the mail order box. Two some things, really, although they probably would be connected in a short while. First though I had to get used to how nipple clamps actually felt.

It was surprised to find – well feel as I couldn't look down that well – that my nipple were already stiff as I'd never really paid that much attention to them. That did make it easy to line the clamps up on either side and then to turn the screw until the lived up to their name and clamped on them.

"Wow!" I exclaimed to myself slightly more sedately than Steven had done, yet I had to agree with him that this was awesome. And, like him, I wanted them tighter too.

Slowly and carefully I tightened the nipple clams until I gave out a little high-pitched squeal, or at least I would have had I not been gagged with a rubber ball.

The small silver chain that I next attached to both the nipple clamps so it hang down across my chest, did nothing to either add or detract from the clamps themselves, but did make exciting little clinking noises as it rattled back and forth.

At this stage, Steven's Uncle did something that I daren't do. With the teenagers totally restrained and gagged, he removed the chastity device, from Steven's prick, allowing him to get an almost instant erection knowing that he couldn't do anything about it. The problem with that was that I while I was mostly restrained I still had use of my arms and I knew that if my cage came off, I'd be wanking myself silly in seconds. So I just couldn't risk it. That did however make things a little tricky as everything that followed was to try and get Steven's erection to go away. I, on the other hand was just going to have to improvise.

Moving my eyes away from the plastic tube that contained virtually everything I thought about, I glanced up at the mirrored surfaces, that allowed me to see behind myself, and in particular my bum, which appeared so small, so already red, and yet so round, even though it was clenched in anticipation of what was to come so very soon.

PIcking up the home made flogger, with the broom handle grip, and the long tails of leather I flipped it over my shoulder directly onto my back, making myself gasp in the process.

The first blow didn't actually hurt, it was more the shock at just how much sting there was in, and just how long that stinging remained after the leather had left my skin.

I tried again from the other side, flipping the flogger over my left shoulder, to much the same effect.

Then I did one blow around the side, across the lower part of my back, repeating it almost instantly as I changed hands, from the other side.

For a full ten minutes I kept up my work with the flogger, concentrating mostly on my back and shoulders. Due to the various angles, twists and turns I had to perform in order to do this the blows weren't of constant quality but that just added to it as I never knew what to expect from each on.

In the mirror I could see a crisscross of red stripes on my back. I was panting through the ball gag, which may have been from either doing or receiving the flogging but was probably a mixture of both. Yet despite all of this my prick was still fighting the chastity device to get an erection.

It was weird. It shouldn't have been there. WEll my prick should have been there, but it shouldn't have been hard, not when I was doing all of this, and especially when the stinging on my back was actually hurting a little. Yet as I stood there, unable to move pretty much anything buy my arms, tightly gagged and plugged, my prick just wouldn't stop trying to get erect. Clearly. Very clearly, I was loving all of this just as much, if not more so, than Steven had in his story. Mind you the next part of the story might just change that.

Putting down the flogger I picked up the next item on the trolley, the heavy wooden paddle. Now this one I knew was really going to hurt, as the paddle was bigger than my bum so no part of it would be spared. All the same I got on with the five blows I was due.

Handling the paddle was tricky, as I couldn't grip it normally, given that I was working behind myself, but this was an issue I'd solved a long time ago. Even so I had to line things up carefully, gently tapping the hard wood against my already red bum, to get the positioning correct before finally letting loose.

It wasn't a heavy blow that first one, but it still made me shudder against the chains that held me.

The next two had the same reaction, while making my bum noticeably darker than it had been when this had all started.

Another one added to the pain I was feeling, yet also encouraging me to continue with the final one which I slammed into my own bottom with such force that I actually dropped the paddle once it had done it's job.

My eyes were red-rimmed, and wet from tears, while the rest of my body glistened with sweat, while I had to concentrate on my breathing around the ball gag strapped into my mouth. Yet my erection was gone.

It was time for a break.

It was an hour later before I was back in what I liked to think of as my 'secret' room, during which time I'd had a drink, done some more chores, and even had a wee, none of which Steven had done. Instead, he'd wanked and then sucked off his Uncle, before having a cuddle to calm himself down again. All of which sounded a lot more fun than the things I did, but still.

Anyway, back downstairs the first thing I had to do was re-gag myself, having removed mine to drink obviously. However, I wasn't going to use the same ball gag as before. Instead I had something a little different to us. A penis gag.

The front of it was just flat leather, but on the other side – the part that goes into the mouth – instead of a ball was bulbous prick shaped prong that was nearly three inches [7 cm] long. Naturally there were also straps that went around the back of my head, and a padlock to keep it in place.

When I put it on I experienced the exact same thing that Steven had, the size, thickness and shape of the rubber prick totally filling my mouth until I thought I couldn't breath.

I could breath though. I just had to keep calm to control my panic and then breath slowly to that my nose could handle the breath that came it's way. It only being when I was breathing as near to normal as I could with a rubber prick in my mouth, that I finally snapped the padlock in place behind my head. Promising myself that I wouldn't remove it again, until the morning, except to eat and/or drink, of course. But even then it would go right back in again.

The next item for me to wear didn't look all that much out of the ordinary, as it was a jock-strap just like athletes wear. Mind you it was made out of black rubber, rather than the usual elasticated stuff, and be a fair bit tighter, as I was soon to find out.

Pulling it up my legs, and around my hips the rubber jock strap hugged me perfectly, snuggly outlining the contours of the cage around my groin, while, around the back, neatly framing the still ruby red contours of my bum.

Now it was time for some real shackles. Metal ones, that were in fact, left over parts of the external rain water drainage system from GG's house. Each was in two semi-circular parts with flanges at the end, through which bolts could be fastened, or if you would rather (and I did) padlocks.

There was a large one that went around my neck, bolted at the back with a locking nut so I wouldn't be able to remove it with my fingers, with an extra large padlock at the front.

Naturally being metal rather than leather, this was a lot heavier than the previous collar I'd been wearing for the previous twenty-four hours, but as it was similar to one I'd worn years before, that didn't come at too much of a shock. Nor did anything else really.

Ankle cuffs followed. Made from the same metal, they too were locked shut with a padlock. However these padlocks were also connected to a short lenth of heavy chain that had only a foot of length between them, meaning that I'd be able to do little more than shuffle around which should bring back a lot of happy memories if nothing else.

My wrists were next, treated the same way my ankles had been, with metal cuffs around them, locked in place with a foot of chain between them, allowing some but not much movement, although even that was about to be reduced even further.

The large padlock on the front of the collar was now bought into action as a securing ring, allowing two separate chains to be attached to it. The other end of these went down to my wrists, crossing over in front of my chest as they went. While two more left my wrists on the way down to my ankles.

All together all the metal work I'd just put on added another sixty or so pounds, and felt an awful lot heavier than that, I can tell you, but as Steven's uncle told him, they were to remind him that he was a slave, and they sure did that.

Now it was time for the cage, and as anyone knows there is only one – well one practical way – to go into a cage and that's on your hands and knees.

Dropping down onto all fours wasn't that easy given all the metalwork I was now wearing, but I managed, and was soon crawling forwards. Mind you I didn't go directly towards the cage, but instead did a little tour of the room, partly to enjoy the sensation of doing it, but also so I could see my bum in the mirrors all shoved up in the air, looking even redder in the direct light with the occasional glimpse of the end of the butt plug from time to time, for that added thrill.

Eventually I approached the dog cage itself, pausing only to swing the heavy metal door open before I crawled inside.

The cage wasn't that big, but then neither was I for my age so I was about to move around slightly inside it. I could even sit down, with my legs out in front of me, or curl up on my side on the floor, and I could also stay on all fours.

A thin rubber mat covered the base of the cage. Intended to stop the dog from slipping about, it actually offered little comfort to me knees, from the cold metal underneath, so instead of staying on all fours I worked myself into a sitting position. This in itself wasn't totally comfortable given way my bum had been through already that day, but my bum was more used that than my knees were, so it was the best I could do.

I'd drawn up a different set of rules for my cage time, based as always on what had been in the story. First of all, I wasn't going to have any control about how long I stayed in there. That was done to the timers padlocks which would hold the door closed. The dials of these I would spin before locking them, so the time limit would be totally random. What's more I wouldn't know what they were set too as I couldn't see the dials from inside the cage, so it would be like I was waiting for someone to let me out, which was after all the point.

So that's where I sat for the next however many hours. My ankles chained together, and to my wrists, which were also chained to each other, and in turn to a heavy metal collar around my neck. I could just about reach my hand down to my groin, if I bent over a bit, but with the cock cage now under the rubber jockstrap there was nothing I could actually do to other than make it even agitated that it couldn't get hard.

Then there's the way I was sitting. Down hard on the butt plug still in my bum. A bum that had been well and truly spanked now, so much that I wasn't going to be sitting still for every long.

All the while a three inch [8 cm] long rubber prick was stuffed in my mouth, preventing any sounds from coming out, not that there was anyone to hear them, in the empty room at the bottom of an empty and locked up house.

And I hadn't been happier about my conditions since my evacuee self had also become a little slave boy.

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