I guess I must have deserved it, I now console myself, as I lay, staring at the ceiling from my bed, unable to raise myself until the dawn breaks and I am once again released to pursue my now terribly mundane lifestyle as a teenager in perpetual bondage. I am nearly sixteen now, but for the past year have not known the freedom that most teenage girls enjoy. Instead, I am confined to this house, and very often this bed, only leaving it with supervision and even then in a state of invisible bondage. For that is the way of living that my parents have chosen for me, dictated by my own past behaviour. Only when I am eighteen will I be truly free of the shackles that literally bind me.
I am paying the price for my own stupidity I suppose. I was only just thirteen when the stolen car that I was in with a few other school friends, out on a joyride, car knocked someone over and seriously injured him. We were all finally found out of course, and appeared in front of the local youth court, being underage for a proper court. The driver of the car got two years in a secure institution. For my punishment, because I had been in trouble before many times before, I got put into a secure unit for three months, supposedly to learn my lesson.
My parents were furious with me, but also angry because they knew that the sentence I had been given would not be enough to make me change my ways, and how right they were. I came out after two months with all sorts of new ideas, learnt from the experts inside. On the day that I was released, my parents gave me their normal lecture about how they were disappointed with me, how I had everything I could need (the massive house, anything I wanted, good upbringing) etc. etc. etc........ They ended with a stern warning, that they considered that I had got off very lightly in court, and that I was now on a suspended sentence as far as they were concerned. If I got into any further trouble, they would put the sentence that they considered that the courts should have given me into effect but they wouldn't tell me what that was.
Of course, me being Miss know-it-all totally ignored them, carrying on as if nothing had ever happened. The crunch came, I suppose, when I went out one day and got my nose, tongue and lip pierced. It was strictly against school rules, I knew, so when I went into school the next day; I was ready for an argument. The problem was, that the teacher wouldn't back down and neither was I, to the point that I eventually hit her. That was the finally straw as far as the school was concerned and I was expelled, six months before my exams and with little hope, according to my father, of finding another school prepared to have me with my past disciplinary record.
There was another "family meeting" that night, where my father did most of the talking. The gist of his speech was, that in accordance with the promise that he had made to me when I was released the last time, he and my mother were going to invoke the full sentence that I had deserved which the courts hadn't been able to give me. He droned on that during the time of my punishment, I would be taught humility, responsibility, and provided with the training that I need to make me more lady-like, including lessons in grace, obedience, deportment and servitude. I wasn't paying much attention at that point, thinking that I had heard it all before and that after a few days of wrist slapping and being grounded, everything would be back to normal. How wrong I was.
I was taken by the arm by each of the parents and led upstairs to my bedroom, not really bothering to struggle since I believed this would be a temporary thing. Once upstairs, my father ordered me to turn around so that I had my back to him. My mother was standing right behind me and I felt her hands collect my wrists and pull them behind me, while the cold steel of a pair of handcuffs encircled them. Try as I might, I couldn't pull my hands from behind my back no matter how hard I struggled. Suddenly, I felt my arms being pulled right up to the level of my shoulders, forcing me to lean forward to relieve some of the extreme tension. I heard myself screaming loud and foul oaths at my parents, but that only got me a slap across the face for my troubles. That brought me back to my senses slightly. My platform shoes were taken off me, causing an increase in the pressure on my arms as my body dropped by several inches, again I screamed. Then I felt my jeans fall around my ankles, followed closely by my panties, and I was made to step out of them by my mother. My father than stood in front of me brandishing a modelling knife which he used to slice my tee-shirt right up the front and down the arms, so the material just fell of my body leaving me only with my bra, which very quickly followed. I was now as naked as the day I was born. I wanted to cover myself up, having not been naked in front of anyone since I was about five, but the bonds on my wrists prevented me from doing that. A ring of steel encircled my ankles, bonding them together so well that I could only move about half an inch at a time by wriggling my feet.
At last, the tension on my arms was released, and I was allowed to stand upright, feeling degraded that I was made to stand naked in front of my parents. Finally, my father spoke again, having not said a word while they had stripped me. It was as if he was passing final sentence on me.
"Janet, you were given fair warning that any recurrence of you misbehaviour would result in the full punishment as we felt fit, to be inflicted for your crimes against the young man that you horrendously injured. As he was in hospital for six months following the accident, six months of his life which has been wasted, together with a further six months of rehabilitation. We feel that it is only fair that, having deprived him of a year of his life, the same should be done to you. We intend to deprive you of your freedom and any privileges that may have been granted in the past, including the freedom of movement and speech, for a period of twelve months. During that time, we intend to train you, so that you will possess the qualities that will make you suitable to take your place in society, without further embarrassment to us both. I would advise you to remain silent from this moment on."
It suddenly struck me when the words "twelve months" came out of his lips. He was serious about this. I went to protest but was quickly silenced by mum who came from behind me with a pouch like affair which went over my mouth, enclosing the whole of my lower face up to the lower eye lids. A slot was cut to allow my nose to remain clear and I found that I could still breathe easily. I could still speak in a fashion, but because I was no longer able to open my mouth, the words came out mumbled and very quietly. When she had finished positioning the gag, it was secured at the back of my head by two padlocks so that it could not be removed. Looking in the mirror on the wall opposite, I could see that over half of my face had disappeared under a wall of leather, save for a small hole where my mouth was. The purpose of that soon became clear as a tube; about 18" long was inserted into it. I was instructed to open my mouth slightly, and felt it being pushed in, so that about two inches resided over my tongue, the rest hanging down in front of me.
"The tube" explained my father, "will allow you to drink whenever you wish. We will provide you with a fresh supply of water, which you can drink as if you were using a straw. You will be offered no food for the next few days, as it is preferable that you start losing some weight for you training period, and it will also give you a reminder that in future you will be more appreciative of our sustenance when you receive it."
I was led, teetering on my toes, to a corner of the room, where my father used a chain to lock my ankle cuffs to the radiator pipe. Then they commenced stripping the entire room of all my possessions and furniture. As they did so, my father carried on explaining the implications of what they were doing. "We are giving away all of your clothing, since you will be provided with what is suitable for your punishment regime. Once it is complete, it is doubtful that any of these clothes will fit you anyway. I don't want to give you know opportunity to hurt yourself in here while more permanent arrangements are made for you stay in the annex. Meanwhile, you are to remain, naked and chained until such time as preparations are complete and you're training commences. Look on this time as the first part of your humility training. Your mother will release one of your hands twice a day so that you may use your bathroom, but other than that, you will remain chained to your bed on a long chain. I would use that time to reflect and get used to the fact that while you are not in prison, this will be a much harder sentence for you".
Once finished stripping the room I was unchained from the radiator and led me, shuffling of to the bed, now devoid of any bedding. A twenty five-foot long chain was attached to the leg of the bed and locked in place with a large padlock. The other end replaced the shorter chain now on my ankle cuffs. A large bottle of water, left by my mother in the far corner of the room on the floor, was the only other object apart from myself remaining in the room once my parents left without saying another word. I heard the key turning in the door from the other side, not that I could reach the door from where I was chained. Suddenly I felt very thirsty and looked at the bottle on the floor. Swinging my locked ankles to the floor, I shuffled to where it stood, suddenly realising that if I wanted to drink, I would have to get down on my knees and bend down. This in itself was a very undignified and humbling experience, but not as bad as when I realised that in order to get water out of the bottle, I had to bend right over, so that my private parts were exposed in all their glory. Even though the room was empty but for me, I found this extremely embarrassing. The next problem came in getting up, since I couldn't spread my feet for leverage. After several attempts, I gave up and crawled slowly on my stomach back to the bed, using it to lever myself upright. The enormity of what was happening suddenly hit me, and that was the first time for many years that I cried.
As promised, my mother came in morning and night so that I could at least go to the toilet properly. The chain allowed me to reach the bathroom, but the fact that my hands were secured behind my back made cleaning up afterwards very difficult. She wouldn't say a word to me, and I could only try to mumble behind my gag pad, which made it very difficult to make myself understood. All she did when she came in was to take hold of my chain so that it wouldn't get in the way as I shuffled painfully off the bed, moving about an inch with every step where my ankles had been left close shackled. Once sat on the toilet, she would undo my ankle cuff, and then remove one of my wrists for the handcuff, the free cuff being connected to the padlock on my gag, drawing my other arm right up behind my back to my shoulder blades. I was then made to carry out my ablutions in front of her, using my one free hand for the toilet paper. Once finished, my free wrist was put back into its' cuff, leaving me helpless again. She didn't even let me get back to my bed before securing my ankles again, but left me to make my own painful shuffle back to where I lay, becoming more and more bored and screaming out for some stimulus.
For the next three days I lay there, hardly bothering to move except to draw on a few gulps of water every now and again, a process which normally took me about 10 minutes to complete. My father came to my room only once in that time, the day after my incarceration. We did not have a wonderful conversation. His only words were to order me to stand up and turn round, which I did. I heard a couple of clicks behind my head as the locks on my gag were unlocked and I felt it fall away from my head. I chose not to say anything as he had me turn around to face him. In his hand he had a small flat plate, with something that looked like jelly spread thickly over it. He held it up to my mouth and told me to open as wide as I could, while he pushed the plate in until it pushed my cheeks back. Then he told me to clench my teeth on it, the jelly substance tasting revolting as bits of it slid into my throat. When I opened up again, he had a perfect imprint of my top set of teeth implanted. He told me to take a swig of water from the bottle he was holding and then made to put my gag back on. It was then that I started pleading with him not to gag me again, but to no avail. Soon my face was wrapped in leather again and the tube reinserted in my mouth.
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