Author's Note: This was written for a podcast to be read on October 25, 2020 by Enchantrix Harper. https://www.spreaker.com/user/cock-radio/ws-228-listener-stories-and-tarot. The requirement was that it was to be less than 1500 words.


Gimpy waited.

It had completely lost track of time. It couldn't remember the last time that it had been allowed to see. The thick, form fitting leather surrounding his head completely blocked any possibility of vision. The layers of leather encasing its head and it's features had been something that it had come to terms with, but the loss of it's sight at the will of it's owner seemed like days ago.

It stood waiting to be used.

During the week of it's intake, it had been made entirely hairless, courtesy of it's owner's insistence on lazer hair removal. It's hands had been secured into thick leather mitts and It's arms had been fed into the sleeves of a straitjacket whose numerous straps had been pulled cruelly tight and locked. It doubted if it could use it's arms anymore anyway. It's fingers likely would never again respond to it's will again. It had been that long.

It had been placed in supple leather chaps with heavy duty knee pads, leaving it's ass and what remained of it's genitals open and available. Tall and solid work boots hid it's feet, rigid leather cuffs at each ankle and a hobble strap between them prevented it from moving overly quickly when it was allowed.

It had long ago been broken of being impatient. Now it just waited. It secretly hoped that it would be allowed to sit soon. Standing, leashed to something tall in these boots was growing uncomfortable. But it would deal with it. What else could it do?

Overnight, it was placed in what it could only guess was a coffin. It was attached to it's feeding and waste remove tubes. The feeding tube was forced through a cruel leather muzzle and then a block of rubber affixed inside it's mouth. The tube was worked into and slowly down it's throat until it reached it's stomach. It was a sizeable tube, allowing any number of substances to be passed into it's stomach. It didn't enjoy the feedings, but it always made it feel better a short while after it had been fed. It didn't enjoy being hungry but had become used to being fed once per day. It could not taste what was being fed to it, but it could feel it pass down it's throat and into it's stomach. It had long since lost it's gag reflex. The burps were sometimes unpleasant, but it was thankful to be able to smell them. It enjoyed guessing what was being fed to it. It's owner seldom mentioned it.

It felt a hand on it's bottom, groping a cheek, wandering toward it's asshole. It froze, immediately thankful for the stimulation, little though it may be. It wished for more, but knew rewards like that were few and far between. It's penis attempted to become erect but was once again thwarted by the belt. It couldn't remember what an unfettered erection felt like anymore. Had it been that long?

The hand pulled away momentarily. Then returned, focusing on it's rear entrance. It had been lubed. It seemed that it was in for some luck. The fingers expertly teased around the metal bar of the Behind Barz belt. It grunted and pushed towards the fingers in an attempt to gain more stimulation. SMACK. It froze and the fingers continued their work. It's penis had begun dripping from the front of it's belt. It felt a hand reach around to the front. The owner of the hand was silent. It could feel their warmth. Their closeness. It moaned a little. The hand withdrew from it's ass and it sighed in frustration.

"You worthless gimp. Why do I keep you around?" said a voice. "I should just leave you in your box. Maybe I should lock it, seal it and send you somewhere by air freight? That might be fun. I bet I could find some really nasty people to send you to." The voice belonged to it's owner. A velvety purring voice. Mistress Amanda. She used to be it's wife.

It felt the lead being released from it's attachment point. "Come here, bitch thing." It was guided a few steps and was directed to kneel down, then lay on it's chest. It assumed the position. Face down, legs spread as far as it could manage because of the hobble. It tried not to think about the next part.

It felt it's owner make her way between it's legs. The leather had long since conformed to it's legs. It felt the point of a shoe along the bar between the cage covering it's ball sack and it's asshole. It braced itself and tried not to clench. The toe of the shoe began to lightly kick and it's perineum. Each kick sent ripples of sensation through the belt, and to it's penis. It was sure that it would leave a puddle.

ZAP. It's owner had just electrocuted it's penis with her remote. It tried not to jump. It didn't want to anger it's owner. It felt a heeled shoe step onto it's right ass cheek. Then a second onto it's lower back. Not full weight - it's owner must have been supporting her weight somehow. Perhaps she does care after all? It felt a stiletto heel dick into it's shoulder blade through the leather. It's owner was careful not to puncture the leather. It enjoyed the sensation, the puddle growing larger.

It didn't know how long it had been trampled for but when it finally stopped it was too soon. It immediately regretted it's absence.

It sensed it's owner making her way in front of it. It felt the steps. The smell of her skin. The sweetness of her perfume. The scent of her sex. It's penis did it's best to try and break free of the 2 inch cage inside the belt. It knew what would happen next. It wished for release but knew it would never come.

It's owner sat down in front of it with a leg to each side of it's body. The apex scant inches away from it's head. "Face toward me, gimpy. Do you smell that?" It's owner was obviously wet and definitely enjoying the power she had over it. It guessed that she was rubbing her pussy in front of it's face. It inhaled. It had all been worth it. The loss of site. The loss of identity. The complete impotence of it's new life. All for the scent of her floral bouquet. "Things like you don't get pussy." She rubbed herself. "The best you can hope for is to smell." She rubbed and rubbed. She wiped a juicy finger below the nostril openings of it's hood and muzzle.

It sensed her impending orgasm. It squirmed and grunted and whimpered, trying to do it's best to appear as pathetic as it could to please it's owner. A powerfully sharp ZAAAAAAAAAP lasted for several seconds on it's penis. It gasped for air as electricity coursed its way through it's tender areas for what felt like an ungodly long time.

With a moan and gasp she went over the edge. Her juices running out of her in a steady stream into her own puddle in front of it. Finally free of the electricity, it inhaled the smells. It did it's best to feel the warmth. It was ultimately denied any pleasure. It's owner must have layed back to relax in the afterglow of her orgasm. She was still. It could hear the heavy breathing. The sounds of her body.

Eventually, she got up and walked around behind it again. It felt the hobble being attached to another lead. It was pulled up to the waist strap of it's straitjacket and tightened. It was then left there. It heard the footsteps leaving this time.

It layed there. It didn't know for how long. It was content. It had been allowed to smell her scent. It had nowhere else to be. Today was a good day. Or night. It had no idea which.

Gimpy waited.