No Going Out

By g d

Published on Jul 21, 2011

Gay

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Note From the Author:

This is a work of fiction however there are some features which are true and this story has been written with reference to experience. If you would like to provide feed back, I welcome it at wheels-on-fire@hotmail.co.uk.

This is copyrighted by the author and may not be distributed to other people other then the Nifty archive. If you want to share this story, send it via the link you found the story.

Enjoy.

No Going Out

Long-term full time isn't what it is cracked up to be. When the excitement of the newness has warn away and you are stuck in a routine, some days can feel like one really hard day at work. Only, with work, you can go home and forget things for a few hours. With this, your boss comes home and monitors your and highlights any failings you did over the course of they day. And more likely then not, fucks you.

This is the stage I am at. I have been in full time 24/7 for over a year. I have another 2 years left of this contract and I will keep to it. I'm sure to some I will sound ungrateful, that I have found what so many (a select few) people aspire to and to have the Master whom earns enough that he can keep me full time, it is a great fantasy for them. But with all things, when fantasy becomes the reality, it can become mundane and repetitive, and some days, you wish for what another has. Mainly this is because you have had a crap day yourself.

If I have an issue, I should bring it to my Master to deal with, if he so chooses. It is his job to shape my life, thus if I have a problem, I need to bring it to his attention. He is not a mind reader, however he can often take a good guess as to how I am feeling and he is often right. He also often tries to make changes to accommodate what I feel to make it better for me or for both of us. A grace, which I understand, is not a unique quality to my Master but equally not a programme installed in all Masters either. I get frustrated about the routine of my day. Master leaves me tasks written down each day for what I am supposed to complete. I almost always do manage to and he will inspect what I have done, highlight areas needed for improvement and keep on top of this with cp. About two months into being his full time slave I had been struggling with a steep routine of my day. His conclusion was to give me the freedom of choosing what order I did things in. This change I found too small and as a result he gave me a little more free time each day, to read or watch the television or a film or go online. However this caused a problem that I don't think Master had foreseen. Watching TV and using the internet more bought me before advertising. I started to aspire for more then pleasing Master and started wanting to become a consumer, I wanted things which I could not attain as I had no income. Being a slave, my only option was to ask Master for things. This was something which never has been fulfilled. I am driven to want things and Master won't give them to me. This sounds demanding and uncharacteristic of a slave, I know this, but I'm only human after all. But this did lead me down a road of frustrations. I could not earn any money so I could not buy what I wanted. I am smart and as a result really wanted more mental stimulation.

When Master leaves in the morning, I am alone in the house, aside from his cat which seems to have taken a dislike to me. He goes out into the city and has his high powered job, full of strategies and concepts to get his company the funding it needs to be successful. He will then come home stressed and wants unwinding and to relax. I on the other hand have had very little mental stimulation and more then enough frustrations which come as a result of being in full time bondage. Ankle cuffs clink all the time against each other and the padlocks hit the inside of my legs when I go up the stairs. The locks at my wrists make washing us dangerous for if I loose my concentration (easily done with washing up) a padlock will slip round my wrist and collide with a glass, shattering it. I know that my ass will pay for that later. When Master comes home I am excited to see him. To see another person is always nice. But he want to relax, be served a gin and tonic in front of the TV and be blown until he blows his second load of the day. He thinks this is the perfect way to wind down after a busy day at work. I however really want to talk to him. I sometimes want to have an in-depth conversation which tries my mind and stimulates me. He just wants to be mindless for an hour. This lends me to become a little annoying. I sometimes just start talking to him, but I have nothing new or interesting to say. Sometimes through my frustrations and to rouse a response from him I start talking at him. I once decided through some bad judgement that I would pick up on his flaws. That earned me a quick slap and a rubber gag (which I hate as it tastes horrible). And thus I am left frustrated.

After dinner, which I do enjoy, as I like cooking, but I often eat fast then regret it as I know that that was an amusement that has now gone and now must wait for Master to finish dinner and he often takes a long time to do it, he enjoys it and I just get to lick my bowl till I just taste my own spit and the metal underneath. The kitchen isn't my favourite place to wait. The floor is hard under my knees, it is often cold and Master will often flick water at me after he has washed his hands. There is also more chance of something being knocked over and either hitting me or something that I will have to clean later after it has had time to stick to the surface. After dinner, Master tends to watch a little more television to let his dinner digest and then at the end of a show he will turn it off and bring his attention back to me. He often does not want anything, and as we have different tastes in television, I have curled up on my puppy bed in the corner of the room. In winter it is beside the radiator, and that is my favourite place to sit or curl up, well, when not with Master. Master finds the list, from where he left it or where ever I moved it to and checks through what I have done. He highlights any errors and praises me for the job I did. He didn't use to praise me, but I said to him that I don't feel appreciated so he changed what he did. This works better for me, as now I don't just see where I failed, and early on, I seemed to do everything wrong. It felt that way at least, and soon I was ready to break my contract and leave. So much negative attention is unwelcome. Once everything is checked he will order me upstairs to the playroom.

The playroom is a strange place for me. I am not always excited to go there. I may end up in a lot of pain by the time I leave, or feeling frustrated as he would not let me cum, or sometimes both. I also enjoy going in there, feeling close to Master and I often enjoy what he has planned. If it is a rough time and I leave feeling not that great, I don't really want to go to bed. I may just resent being there with him, or resent that I did not get what I wanted. This is part of being a slave, however my feelings are there, regardless of my status in life. If I have had a good time, then I will cuddle up to Master in bed. If I have had a bad time, I have found that asking to have a bath or a shower is good because I can calm down and relax and hopefully get over any injustice I feel. If he denies this to me, I often just feel uncomfortable, or if he insists on showering with me, I just really want to get out and try and find some space to myself before bed. This is what I find quite difficult. I know I have not got too much time with Master before bed then soon after that it feels that he goes to work and I am left alone again. Thinking about this makes me feel sad and heavy hearted. But being it that situation of feeling, well, let down, is quite hard for any boy to take.

One such day happened last week. I had smashed a few glasses at the sink. I had felt bored during the day and I had not really enjoyed anything Master had bought home. He had had a frustrating week and it wasn't getting better further into the week. He bought this entire issue home and took it out on me. I didn't seem to be able to please him and I started to feel resentful. I was not getting what I wanted from him. I was lacking any love from him. I felt lonely and I didn't really look forward to him coming home only for him to complain that I was sucking him wrong or that my ass was too tight or that the ironing was wrong. His week would not improve and as a result, neither did mine. The weekend was dull as he had to work all weekend, and like many people in London, I often feel like I live for the weekend, just looking for something, which we can do outside of the house. Picking up the dry cleaning mid week isn't a day out. His week was extended as was mine. At night I felt a powerful amount of resentment. I unhooked the lead which attaches to my collar at night, the lead attached to the head board and got up at night. The rule for the lead is the same for anything else Master puts on; whether it is locked on or put on, it stays on until Master takes it off. If I need to use the bathroom at night, which isn't often as I'm young, I should wait till Master gets up sometime or if I am in dire need and cant wait, I should wake him up and ask for permission. Therefore, unhooking it myself I knew I was breaking rules, but I could not lie next to him at all. He was snoring and each breath he took annoyed me so I got out of bed and went to the spare room to sleep.

I woke up to being turned out of bed. Hitting the floor and scrambling around to work out why the world had flipped out confused me. Master would not let me get my bearings and picked me up, took me to the play room and whipped me till I started to cry then moved me to the bathroom, put me in the bath, released his morning piss onto me. He then left the room and went to work. He didn't say a thing to me. I cried a lot and then had a bath. I wasn't ready for the exchange. I felt really hurt, but the water did not wash away my frustrations and hurt, the hot water heated my resentment and I decided that today I was going to take control. I don't have any regrets. I think while I type this that maybe it was the best thing to do, I think I needed to give myself control or just let myself get broken up. I dried myself and went looking for the key I had hidden months ago. He had once misplaced a key in the playroom and I had kicked it under a matt till when I could move it to my hiding place. All the locks operate under the same key for safety. I took all the bands off me, being in level one, basic bondage, it was only collar and four cuffs. I dressed in my weekend outing clothes, basic, no joys, Master declined to buy the clothes I wanted which I considered fashionable, he chose plain t shirt and jeans which he concluded was timeless. I picked up the cell phone which had only his number programmed to for emergencies and pocketed that. I then took the money from the housekeeping box, used to pay take-outs and dry cleaning bills. It wasn't a fortune at £100 but it would give me some space which is really what I needed.

I took my set of keys off the side, and before going out of the house I left a note. I wrote:

Master,

I need space and I am angry. I wont being doing anything on the list. I am choosing to break the rules. I have my cell and I have taken the money from housekeeping. I will be back tonight.

Boy

I decided honesty was best. He wouldn't worry that I didn't have anything or that I had ran away, that means all he was left was to be angry with himself for being a bad Master. Well, that is what I felt anyway.

It was strange to go out as far as I did. For that last year, the furthest distance I had gone unaccompanied was the local store. I had not been on the overground or the underground network without Master for a year. Doing things alone was not an issue but it was strange to get on a train without looking out to see if there was space for both Master and I to sit or just mindlessly following him to where he had decided we would go, for he wouldn't always tell me. I was running on adrenaline. I was breaking rules and I was doing it quickly. It was an adventure and all I had done was turn a few locks and get on a train. I had basically started a commuter does each day. I decided to go to somewhere I wanted. You see, when I first accepted the contract, I thought I could talk Master into allowing me a full day a week to do as I wanted, thus I would be able to study my interests. A year on I had not gotten that much, I had earned a few days out with him where my choice of activity was priority, but more often then not, it would be what he wanted to do, that is not to say that he wanted to do boring things, but it was rarely my thing.

I decided I wanted to go to a gallery. My interest in art has always been rather strong, therefore the chance to go out and enjoy myself, stimulating myself was what drew me. As I left the train network for the Tate Gallery I started to feel faint. I had not had breakfast in my rush to leave, and for me, I had already had a strained day. I decided to stop somewhere safe for a little bit of breakfast. a small stack of pancakes was nice, but eating alone in a restaurant has always been something which made me uneasy. It was also strange looking at a menu to choose my own meal. I ate and left a note, not wanting the interaction with a waitress, she got a good tip. My time in the gallery was nice. I took the time in the vast space and just wandered through. It was calming. I did think a little bit that I would be in trouble however I also felt that the damage was done so I may as well enjoy it before I go back to face my fate. It was not as if I could go back now and pretend that nothing had happened. The housekeeping jar was down and my tube pass had less money on it. He would find out even if I did try to hide the evidence. I spend more time then I realised in the gallery. Wandering its halls and levels. I liked that no one tried to interact with you. Something London is quite good at. I bought a sandwich for lunch. I could walk and eat it as I went without the pressure of eating in a restaurant again. It was a late lunch and it being summer, I got the sandwich that no one else wanted where the edges are a little dry and curl at the corners. I put it down to being an experience in the end anyway.

Back on the underground, I felt very warm, its like being in a community sleep sack, too close to each other and cant get out, even when you want to, not until the train Master is ready to let you out. I went into a shopping district and had a look in the stores. Master and I had been shopping but we didn't tend to go to where I was interested, nor would we get what I wanted very often. I had cash in my pocket so I decided to treat myself. I knew that the experience would be in the buying then in the keeping. I was not sure that Master would let me keep what I bought. I think he would most likely take it off me when I got in and not give it back. But I am used to things never really being mine. I do have some possessions however, that he allows me to keep, but these are mainly books, and things with value to myself, rather then the open market.

I spent my afternoon gaining some Dutch courage before I went back home. I didn't want to get back really late, for I knew that I may make my problems worse. But I realised while I had some cocktails in a bar, that this was my home. Master's house was my home. I realised I could have taken the money and fled, got on a train at Kings Cross and leave, go back to my parents house as I would always have a place there. But I knew that Master's house is where I belong.

I felt tipsy. Master often described me as Cadbury. Glass and a half he says, that is all that is needed to get me drunk. I ate some bar snacks to try and subside my feelings of queasiness. I know that they say bar nuts have 57 different types of trace urine on them, but my experience tells me that I would have had worse in my mouth before, so I threw caution to the wind in the hope of levelling myself up.

It was dull when I left. I wanted to get back home before it got dark. I often got scared of the dark. A logical fear of getting mugged is what is hidden in the dark. I got back on the overground and got off at the station closest to Master's house. I walked back slowly, in no great rush to be back in Master's house, apprehensive sensations knocking any veil of alcohol induced calm, the coming night pushing me forwards. The black door of Masters house was at the end of a short path. I walked up and turned my key in the door. For some reason I expected master to be waiting for me at the door, as if in my absence some sort of role reversal had occurred and that he would be waiting for me to come home as I, man of the city had been out all day. The television was on in the living room and Master was sitting watching it. I stood near his arm, his hand wresting on the remote, drumming the buttons, but not changing the channel. I felt uneasy. I knew before I left that I had crossed boundaries, which I shouldn't have done. There was no going back in time to change things. Now was as it is. I had to face the music. But there was none. None from the television anyway. The sound was muted and I was aware of the silence. Master broke the silence Did you have a nice day boy?' My voice caught in my throat. It was dry like it is if you speak for the first time that day. Yes Sir' was all that I had managed.

We both paused. Nothing was said.

Master did the unexpected. He moved his hands wide and made a space for me. He pulled me to his lap and hugged me. I felt that this was exactly where I wanted to be. I didn't really want to go out today, I just was looking for something to be a substitute for the rough time I had had. That we had had. And What I really wanted was to be welcomed back into Master's arms and feel loved.

We stayed like this for some time then I turned my head and whispered into his ear Are you going to punish me Sir?' He took breath, looked at me and smiled Yes boy.' I frowned, knowing the inevitable; I wouldn't have let myself get away with what I had done. `But not tonight.' He finished. He then gave me a tighter embrace. And I smiled inside. It showed on my face. I felt that I was home.

Things have changed since then. Master now allows me a voice time. If there are things where I have issues, he gives me time to speak out about what is happening for me and as long as I do it respectably, he won't punish me. It's a bell jar where I can voice what I need to say. Master also gives me one day a month to have a day out. But he tells me that I must go out and report back to him what I have done. I'm not aloud to just spend it in bed. This is why he gives me just one day a month. He said if he had given me one a week, I may just decide to lie in bed all day.

Master's day improved the day I went out. He got his deal and a bonus at the end of it. I didn't have to pay him back the money I took, he tells me it is lucky he got the bonus of I would have been in bigger trouble. He is joking. I think anyway.

But life goes on. My free hour is gone and Master wants something. A slaves day is never really over.

Again. ALL feedback is appreciated. Please send feedback to wheels-on-fire@hotmail.co.uk

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