Stand In

I've lost track of all time and all sense of duration. I'm not sure how long I've been here. I've been in the dark, in the silence, in the quiet. Only the constant pressure on my back and on my balls reaffirms to me that I still exist in this world.

My arms and knees have long since gone dead. But objects don't complain, and objects only exist to be used.

I can feel the occasional rasp as the nylon-covered legs adjust themselves on my back. Ever so gently moving, but still, that's almost the only sensation I have right now.

I don't know quite what I expected when I came around this evening. I wasn't quite sure, but it started with instructions. Scary instructions. Ones that had taken me far out of my comfort zone, but which nonetheless I followed because, after all, objects do as they're told.

The instructions had been simple enough:

“Put your butt plug in and make sure that you're wearing stockings under your clothes when you arrive here. Don't bother with any underwear.”

The journey there was long, and it took me some time to get used to the sensation of my ass being full and the unusual silky feeling of the stockings on my legs. I was wondering whether the taxi driver knew what was happening in the back of his taxi.

When the remote plug started to vibrate, it was all I could do to sit still and not squirm on my way there. I was sure he knew what was happening. I imagined I could hear a buzz even over the sound of the car.

I was tightly caged and had been for some time. My cock was trying to get erect in its cage, but there was no space. Adding to the frustration, I couldn't remember offhand the last time I'd actually had free access to my cock, or an orgasm for that matter.

The plug never stopped all the way there. Obviously Mistress had been tracking me, as she stopped the plug the minute the taxi pulled up at the destination.

I got out and walked to the door, uncomfortably taking a look around, trying to see if there was anyone there to see me. When I got to the door, I knocked, knelt down at the threshold, and kept my eyes down, looking at the floor.

Waiting.

Time passed. I couldn't have said how much.

Eventually, I heard footsteps. The click-clack of heels. The key in the door.

And it opened.

“Well, come in then. Don't just sit there.”

I crawled over the threshold. Once I'd cleared the doorway, I resumed the kneeling position, waiting.

I heard the door close and lock behind me, sounding like the crack of doom, whilst I rapidly unclothed myself, taking everything off, folding it and putting it in a neat pile next to the stairs.

Click-clack.

The heels moved around me, coming into view as I kept my eyes lowered. In front of me: pointed, shiny shoes, beautiful smoky nylons covering the feet within.

I'd been well trained by this point, so I bent forward, kissed each shoe on the toe, and then resumed my upright kneeling position.

“Well done, boy. I'm glad you've arrived. Follow me.”

Click-clack.

Once again, the heels led onwards, each click-clack another tick towards my doom.

To my surprise, we didn't head for the playroom. We headed for the front room.

“Just over there, in front of the armchair.”

Her voice came from my right.

I made my way carefully into position. I heard her walk around. Something was picked up, and then I heard her move behind me.

She reached around in front of me, under my chin, and pulled my head to one side. One at a time, she pushed foam earplugs into my ears, cutting me off from the world of noise.

She let go. I presumed she'd gone back to the table, or to wherever she'd kept her equipment.

Soon she was back.

This time she reached under my chin, and the world became dark as she slid a hood over my head. When it was fitted down and tight, I was covered from my top lip to the base of my chin, my mouth free but otherwise fully concealed and hidden from the light of the world.

Noise became even more muffled now that there were two layers involved.

Now that I was blind and deaf, the world became something I could only feel.

She led me forward slightly, guiding me down into a kneeling position. I felt cool metal wrap around my wrists and then again around my ankles, firmly restraining me in that kneeling position.

I felt her move around behind me and tug on my caged cock, pulling my balls away from my body.

Something was wrapped around my sack, stretching it, pulling it taut, separating each ball from the other.

Finally, something was tied around my big toes, keeping the stretch taut, so that any movement I made was transmitted through my ballsack.

After that, I felt her move around briefly. There was a tug on the plug in my ass, gradually pulling it out, teasing with it. Making me move. Making me want to move away from the teasing.

Until finally it was pulled out.

I felt vacant after it had gone. Empty. So used to its presence that it felt unnatural for it not to be there now.

I needn't have worried.

It was replaced swiftly. Comfortable at first, but I could feel it start to pulse. Growing.

Evidently she'd replaced it with an inflatable one.

She inflated it and kept inflating it, and I tried to remain silent as it stretched me. Unable to know how much noise I was making because of the earplugs and hood.

Eventually she stopped, satisfied, no doubt, that it was giving me enough of a reminder that I belonged to her. That I was nothing but an object for her to use.

That done, I could feel her moving around a bit, this time to the side of me.

A moment later, I felt her put her legs on my back.

So that was it.

I was to be nothing but a footstool for the evening. Trapped, unable to move. There purely to be objectified. Nothing but to be used.

And that brings us neatly back to the start of the story.

I don't know how long it's been.

I genuinely couldn't tell you.