No Contest! Part 2
Here it is! The sequel we have all been waiting for, from the pen of our excellent guest author slave Paul! Enjoy!
No Contest! Part 2
By Slave Paul
Intro (from Part 1)
The couple did eventually return in the early hours of next morning, somewhat drunk and merry.
Master Dean did not bother to remove the basket from the slave’s head. He simply collapsed into the sofa and fell asleep. Mistress Sandra stumbled into the room behind her lover and slumped to her knees in front of the slave. She was swaying to and fro in a drunken stupor!
She removed her high heels from her pretty, bare, sweaty feet and placed them beneath his confined, basket-clad face. She then moved directly to his ear and whispered:
‘I have got some really exciting news, slave; we are getting married! Master Dean proposed in front of Ron and Mel in the restaurant! How cool is that?’
Sockface was glad of the basket, for once, as it was hiding his contorted, anguished face! He had proposed to her twice in the past and she replied with a feeble ‘I am not ready for that sort of commitment yet’. He bit down hard on the stockings and used them as a self-inflicted gag. Now she would marry this Neanderthal creep and he would be forever ‘Master Dean’!
Mistress Sandra then picked up the newly arrived, studded paddle and went to the rear of the stocks saying:
‘I wonder if I can make you squeal like Dean can?’
Swish…Crack!
OOOOW!
No contest Mistress! No contest!
Part 2
The next three months passed by so swiftly for the newly engaged couple.
So much organising was needed for the big day! The humble tortured footslave, however, was not having the same busy experience. He had to spend nearly all of his time in the ridiculous novelty stocks, and spent most of his time wearing a basket filled with Mistress Sandra’s sweaty hosiery.
To make things much worse, Master Dean had finally fully converted Mistress Sandra to the dark side of the whip and she was now a full convert to the ways of corporal punishment! The masked slave’s back bore witness to many a harsh female whipping, the first occasion being nearly three months ago - that very night she stumbled in to announce her marriage to his arch enemy!
She was truly adept and efficient at wielding Master Dean’s new studded paddle! This was now so often the case that the couple had officially renamed the footslave as ‘Squealer’! How the young couple loved intimidating and making him cry out in agony during a harsh whipping or flogging. This was normally followed by an extra loud love-making session to further add to the overall humiliation and degradation of their human property.
Time had rolled on so swiftly that it was hard to believe that, this time next month, the happy couple would be walking down the aisle! Slave Squealer assumed that he would not be participating in the merriments and celebrations and had prepared himself for a long stay in the hideous pillory contraption purchased from his own money by master Dean!
But things were not going to be that simple! Master Dean found time to stoop down to the humble slave’s enforced, kneeling, rubbery- mask-clad face one evening, to enquire after his comfort levels. As usual he asked for an honest appraisal of the slave’s outlook on current circumstances (It is worth noting that, in past instances where the slave had felt the need to exaggerate, or even to blatantly lie, Master Dean Sir was a skilled lie detector, and the ramifications arising from the lie were dire!)
‘Well, you vile little cretin, how do you feel about what is going on? I want a physical and mental run down. You have no secrets; even your imagination belongs to me, boy! Now spill the beans!’
‘Begging your pardon, Master Dean Sir, but this humble little cretin struggles to speak in these tight-fitting stocks, but (gulp gasp) I am truly in agony and longing for freedom from these stocks, even for a few short minutes, Master Sir. This ingenious mask that my master and Mistress have seen fit to fit me with, is indeed humbling; and the lopsided weights are causing me excruciating neck cramps, Sir. Furthermore, Master Sir, my beard is growing beneath this humiliating mask and causing yet more itching that the restrictive stocks will not allow this vile creature to scratch! This slave must also be so bold as to say that he is deeply saddened to see his former lover, and now most feared and respected foot mistress, getting married to the strong and masterful Master Dean Sir, if it so pleases you Master!’
You stole my home, my girlfriend and my life you sick, fat pile of filth!!! (This little addition was in the slave’s masked head only you understand).
‘Good! If you are miserable, then I am doing my job right! I have plans for you, boy; big plans. I have bought you, that is to say me, a new book: 100 pressure points and non-violent slave tortures that are sure to make your slave squeal in agony! I am glad that the stocks are biting you hard, and I was going to let you out tonight to paint your Mistress’s toenails. But that can wait another day Ha! Oh, and by the way butt face, have you noticed how long her toenails have gotten lately? HA! All will be revealed. You will be joining in the festivities whether you want to or not! That is my decision; not yours, right slave?’
‘Yes, all powerful Master Dean. This humble slave hears, and shall obey you, Master! And thank you for not letting me out of the stocks, as they will help me concentrate on my humble lot; and the pain will purify me, Master Sir!’
This obsequious response always pleased Master Dean. He felt awesomely powerful after a feeble, crawling response like this! He stood up proudly, taking a tin of beer from the fridge and leaving for the bedroom.
A short while later, Mistress Sandra entered the room in her pyjamas (the same ones that Paul had brought her from their last holiday!)
‘Hi slave, I need your help choosing the flowers, as you always used to get such colourful bouquets for me when we were an item! You seem to have the green fingers I was lacking, not the green toes like me HA!’
She meant that her toenails were still lacquered in a bright green-coloured polish (now looking a bit chipped around the edges; hence Master Dean’s request for a repaint). They had chosen the green polish to match the slave’s embarrassing mask! Slave Squealer did notice that her toenails were looking quite long and a bit jagged now! Why had she not simply ordered a mouth trimming like usual?
‘What do you think of these, Squealer?’
Hours of looking at floral printouts then passed - with the slave still firmly secured in the stocks of course!
‘Wow! Look at the time, slave! I have a busy day tomorrow choosing the dress! I had better whip you, then turn in to Master Dean’s waiting arms! Hold on for a fast ride, pig face!’
Swish crack!
OOOOWWW!
‘Ha! Oh Squealer, how I do like making you squeal! Bad night to you!’
The next day finally loomed for the hapless, male prisoner under the boot (quite literally!). He had been in the stocks for three days straight now, with no rest! Squealer was left to ponder how cruel his former lover had become. Why was she doing this to him? He would rather go down the slave mines that watch her marry this creep! It is true what is said about ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!’
At that very moment she erupted into the living room and raised her white cotton, sock covered feet for kissing in his stocks:
‘Morning, slave scum! Hope you’re not too comfortable in there?’
‘No, Mistress Sandra. This slave is in agony, Mistress!’
‘Oh, what a pity! And I need to let you out; Damn! Oh well, where is that hammer?’
She was now looking for the hammer to knock the peg through, to open the ‘stocks of misery’, as they had been nicknamed! The small sense of relief was overwhelming! Unfortunately for the slave, the cangue now took over the punishing pain around his scrawny shoulders and neck!
‘Follow me to the table and sniff my socks while I eat my breakfast, slave!
Master Dean finally drew himself up from his pit next door and deigned to join the Mistress and slave in the sitting/dining room:
‘Hey babe, sleep well? KISS KISS KISS!’
The couple ate their meal and discussed the busy schedule ahead of them. They had now finished work for the period leading up to the wedding.
Some ten minutes after they had finished eating, Master Dean grabbed the slave by the cangue and jerked his head back towards Mistress Sandra’s sock-clad feet. He then used his tattoo-covered, hairy hands to unceremoniously rip Sandra’s socks off her feet! How dare he treat her in this way!
To Squealer’s utter surprise, she did not resist! She even seemed to like being pushed around by Master Dean!
‘Listen up, you hate filled sack of scum! You will now trim my girl’s toenails with these clippers and pedicure her feet ready for the big day. Get this wrong and I will fill your remaining days with agony! Do you understand?’
‘Oh yes, Master and Madam. This humble little creep hears and will obey, Master and Madam!’
Why the clippers? He was quite skilful at trimming her nails with his teeth now. He had been given lots of practice after all!
Squealer used his feeble, shaking with fear hands to gently clip away at the long, uneven toenails! He was truly nervous and was being watched intently by Master Dean. This was also strange, as Master Dean proceeded to collect all of the clippings and place them in a ring box for some reason?
Several fear-filled minutes of mouth washing and pedicure treatment later, Master Dean and Squealer were standing (and kneeling) back in amazement at how pretty her feet looked. Sandra had chosen a pretty, pink-colour varnish for her chubby, little toes! They looked fantastic!
For once, even Master Dean had to admit that the slave had done well. He did this by digging his knuckles deep into the slave’s neck below the punishing cangue, causing an involuntary spasm that caused the muscles in his shoulders to turn to stone!
AAARGH!
‘Ha! What a loser! Now, back into your stocks, slave boy!’
Master Dean wasted no time in hammering the steel peg back in place, trapping the occupant tightly in its vice-like grip once again! He had been free for a mere one hour and ten minutes in a three day period!
‘Well babe, we had better go and get our shopping done! My mother will be meeting me in the shopping centre to go and buy the dress!’
Mistress Sandra got up and placed some small, black leather ballet flats on her bare feet before giving Master Dean a loving embrace in front of the confined slave!
Mistress Sandra left and slammed the door on Dean and the slave. Master Dean slumped to the floor and faced up to the slave. With his smelly breath, he whispered:
‘Well, I had better get these to the jewellers then, hadn’t I?’
And with that, he shook the ring box in front of the slave’s face. They could both hear the nail clippings rattling around in the ring box:
‘Oh, I nearly forgot; this arrived for you in the post!’
The small package read:
For the attention of footslave Squealer.
What was it? Some kind of present?
‘Here, boy, I will open it for you.’
Master Dean unskilfully ripped the box open with his huge, ungainly biceps and dustbin-lid-sized hands:
‘Oh, I did not realise that you had ordered yourself a new toe clamp? Would you like me to fit it for you? Which toe do you want it on?’
Master Dean had kindly ordered the device from the ‘slave shopping channel’ and used what little money that remained in the slave’s bank account to pay for it! The clamp had a small metal spike attached to a threaded rod that dug into the slave’s confined, unkempt digits! Only one thing for it…
‘Begging your pardon Sir, but this slave would like it on the right toe please, Master Sir, if you would be kind enough?’
Needless to say, Master Dean happily placed it on the prisoner’s left toe and wound the cruel device tight around the captive digit, causing yet more pain and discomfort! This done, he proudly took a photo of the punishing device to show his mates in the pub later! He then left the slave in the stocks to ‘’play’’ with his new toy! Squealer was left alone with the sock basket once again covering his face, crying into his Mistress’s socks!
Later that evening, Mistress Sandra was the first to return home.
She placed her hot, sweaty, ballet flats under the slave’s face and removed his basket before realising that he had been crying!
‘Hey, what’s up little man?’
That was what she used to call him when they were together. It was her original pet name for him. For one moment he forgot the biting sensation in his left toe and was actually happy! He had to answer her question however!
‘Begging your pardon, feared and respected mistress, but Master Dean has placed an agonizing toe clamp on this slave Mistress.’
‘Oh has he now! We will have to see about that, won’t we? You are MY slave, after all!!’
She took herself behind the novelty pillory and examined the offending item before bending down to touch it with her soft, loving hands:
‘HMM… let’s see,’ she said.
Her hands felt so soft and warm the pain was easing already!
OOOWWW!
She violently tightened the screw on the device and said:
‘You are right. It looks agonisingly painful slave! Ha! Dean knows his stuff, I will give him that! Now, hold still; I will be letting you out of the stocks so you can see my wedding dress! No telling Dean, though; it will be our little secret! Oh, and don’t touch that clamp thing! If Dean thinks you should wear it, I am sure he knows best!’
Once out of the stocks, Mistress Sandra retired to try on the dress. Slave Squealer was so very tempted to loosen the clamp around his own crushed toe, but thought better of it! As Master Dean had pointed out, it was now their toe, and they could crush it if they wanted to!
Mistress Sandra returned moments later in the most beautiful wedding frock! She stood there in her pretty bare feet and crystal white frock gown in all its splendour! For a few precious moments, he forgot that he was viewing her through his rubbery masked eye-slits, and all was well!
‘You look beautiful….Mistress Sandra!’ he hastily added!
For one moment he had forgotten that she owned him now. They were not equal anymore!
‘Thanks, slave! Oh by the way, Master Dean has got something to tell you about the wedding later, so you had better listen up!’
She then got changed back into her casual clothes and produced a list of items that she began ticking off for the wedding. She also produced a paper sheet and pencil for the slave?
‘I want a list from you stating five ways in which I can make your life worse in the next half an hour! And they had better be good ones, or I will tighten the clamp again and whip you!’
How cruel! He had to think through the biting pain of the foot clamp; how could she possibly make things worse? He had no choice!
1. Make me attend your wedding to Master Dean.
2. Whip me twice a day, and harder too.
3. Make me worship the feet of our mutual friend, Mistress Mel, in front of you and Master Dean.
4. Publically humiliate me in full view of all of the free-women townsfolk.
5. Eat your nail clippings.
Mistress Sandra was very impressed indeed! The list made her laugh an evil cackle!
‘Ha! What a fool! I meant things like, call you names; and put more socks in your basket! But I will happily do all of the five items on your wish list!’
It was at this point that a somewhat drunken Master Dean came bursting through the door to greet the household:
‘Hi Honey, I’m home! HA!’
He was clutching some shopping bags that he let drop to the floor. The couple hugged and kissed passionately above the slave for a few moments, before Master Dean announced a surprise to them both:
‘I have got you both a present!’
Oh no, not another one!
He then boorishly announced that he had a change of heart in the pub this afternoon and felt that he should give Mistress Sandra and Slave Squealer a chance at marriage after all!
This was such a shocking revelation!
Mistress Sandra was not too impressed:
‘But I don’t want to…’
‘Wait a moment, babe!’
He then produced a pair of ring boxes:
‘One contains the rings that will bind me and Sandra together for life; and the other contains the rings that will bind you and your Mistress together forever! That’s right! I am going to marry you both! HA. He then proceeded to lock the tortured, male slave once again in the ignominious stocks.
This done, he produced a small, silver ring from one side of the box, and said something that was inaudible to the slave into Mistress Sandra’s pretty little ear!
She laughed and said:
‘The right one.’
The right what? thought the slave.
Master Dean then passed Slave Squealer a ring and instructed him to place it on his Mistress’s right little toe!
He had to lean out from the stocks, causing cramps in his right arm, in order to actually reach her pretty little toe. The ring was just large enough to fit over her smallest metatarsal, which was gaily coloured in bright, celebratory, pink polish!
Once this was done, Master Dean produced the second ring. It was much bigger, and silver in colour to match the counterpart. The only main difference was that Mistress Sandra’s ring was, unlike this one, not decorated by her own toenail clippings!
‘Guess where this ring is going, butt face?’
Mistress Sandra then straddled the comedy stocks in order to clamp the slave’s head in her powerful thighs! Master Dean then produced the dreaded hole-cutting pliers! He deliberately completed the next stage slowly, to cause added pain! He proceeded to punch a small hole in the slave’s septum and placed the clipping-laden ring through the piercing in his confined nose!
This completed, he closed the ring with some kind of clamp, making it a permanent feature! Oh how the young powerful couple laughed at his misfortune!
‘I now pronounce you Mistress and footslave!’ quoted Master, or should that be ‘Reverend’, Dean!
Mistress Sandra then crouched down over the slave’s head to say:
‘You will be coming to the wedding, like it or not! We have chosen you as a ‘ring bearer’! How cool is that? You will be the one that gets us to the altar, and in full view of all of our friends and family! I am sure that Miss Mel will happily fulfil wish No.3 on your pathetic list!’
‘What was that about a list, honey?’ enquired Master Dean.
‘Oh, he wrote some pathetic wish list while you were out. Here, have a look! It’s so sad, it’s untrue!
Untrue is right, the couple nearly died laughing at his shameful wish list. Oh such humiliation! Ding dong the bells are going to chime!
Only a week later, and everything was happening so fast - for the happy couple, anyway.
Poor Squealer had to watch all of the rushing to and fro from his enforced kneeling position in the novelty pillory.
Things were getting quite stressed out! Mistress Sandra was even losing her cool with Master Dean, on occasion! As fun as this was to behold, Squealer was always conscious of the fact that he would pay for the temporary ill feelings between them, later on that evening! Master Dean was becoming quite adept at using his non-violent, pain pressure-point skills on the embondaged serf! Suffice it to say, he had no cause to take the book back for a refund!
The night before the wedding finally loomed, and all was peaceful.
Master Dean had left for his stag night, and Mistress Sandra was alone with the slave in the apartment, drinking to steady her nerves. She seemed to be disappointed at something, but Squealer could not decide what it was.
He took the brave decision to break the cold silence and ask if everything was alright:
‘Begging your almighty pardon, most feared and respected beautiful Mistress, but this humble and grotesque little slave could not help but notice you seem quite tense this evening, oh powerful madam?’
‘Ah, you are right, little man!’ (That old nickname again). ‘I am annoyed at Dean’s attitude! I wanted you to wear a collar and bow tie to our wedding, as you would have looked very funny as a semi-naked gimp! Sigh!’
‘Pardon this slave for being so bold, all powerful one, but what is the problem?’
‘Oh he would not give me the key to your cangue, and we had an argument over it as he left. He said he would come for you on the day of the wedding after I have left! He never takes the key to your lock out of his wallet, you know!’
WHAT? thought Squealer. How could he be so big headed about this? I am her slave; not his!
The Mistress and the slave actually spent some quality time together before it was bed time. Squealer had forgotten the terrible cramps that were induced by the lopsided mask and the crossbeam of the pillory, until Mistress Sandra produced the dreaded leather paddle!
‘Bad night, slave! See you in the morning; this will be the last time I flog you as a free woman!’
Swish crack!
The dreaded day rolled round swiftly for all concerned.
Squealer was awoken by the doorbell as Mistress Sandra’s wedding entourage arrived to do her hair and makeup! Nobody even noticed the male slave as the girls set about dressing and preening themselves’ He was no longer a member of the opposite sex; merely a thing to them all!
Mistress Sandra finally paid him some attention by screaming loudly in a stressed tone at him:
‘Are you just going to kneel there? A bit of help would be nice, cretin!’
It was not his fault nobody had released him from his pillory!
Some more stress-filled time passed, and Mistress Sandra and her escorts finally departed for the church!
All was silent at last!
Sadly the peace did not last. Moments later, the key could be heard in the front door! Master Dean burst in, wearing his best suit and carrying a sports bag! He simply knelt down and laughed in the slave’s confined, rubber covered face!
Master Dean then reached into the bag and produced a genuine antique ball and chain!
‘Ha! This should provide a good laugh the old ball and chain, get it? Now hold still!’
He then shuffled away behind the pillory and Squealer could feel the cold bracelet being ratcheted shut tightly around his right ankle! He then felt something cold on the sole of his right foot! It tickled immensely, but all too soon stopped. Moments later another weird sensation was felt on the slave’s left bare sole; a cold gel was being applied and massaged in!
What was he up to? It would certainly not be nice!
Master Dean returned to the front of the pillory, looking satisfied and wearing rubber gloves! He pulled them off and then showed the slave a snapshot taken on his phone. It showed a picture of his right foot with the words NOT COLD badly written with permanent marker! Oh, thought the slave, not got cold feet! Master Dean had mastered irony and wit at last, then?
Ow! Ouch! twitched the slave! His left foot was now burning with itchiness!
Master Dean could not contain himself:
‘You dweeb! It’s itching gel! Got itchy feet, then? Ha! All of the congregation will see the signs all over you - a ball and chain; cold feet; itchy feet. What a lame brain!’
Squealer could not believe this new, witty side to his hated master! Even the burning itching sensation was not as prominent as the wit and good humour in the room right now!
All too soon, the peg was knocked through the stocks, and the slave was now free once more, apart from the cangue which Master Dean would not remove; and of course the newly fitted ball and chain!
Once in Master Dean’s car, he swiftly inserted a small, rubber ball into the slave’s mouth that was pegged to the cheek from the outside:
‘Touch it, and I will break your fingers, Squealer boy!’
They finally arrived at the church, filled with old friends and Sandra’s family! Oh the looks and giggles that were heard as the comedy ring-bearer crawled behind master Dean to the altar! The congregation could be heard to whisper the words
‘Not got cold feet!’ and ‘Look at him itching!’
Finally the organ music played loud and clear, signalling the beginning of the service!
Mistress Sandra looked quite stunning in her frock! Her pretty toes were covered in a white chiffon material as she seemed to glide toward the altar and the waiting female minister!
Once the music had stopped, the minister was heard to say:
‘The slave may kiss your feet!’
Mistress Sandra’s bridesmaid helped by pulling back the chiffon material to reveal the beautiful bride’s high-heel-stiletto, white sandals and vibrant, pink nail polish expertly applied by her footslave!
Now came the first of several pivotal moments in the proceedings! The footslave lowered his lips to the bride’s big toes and gave a loud kiss that echoed around the silent church! A loud cheer and applause went up into the rafters!
The rest of the ceremony went the same way as any other wedding, apart from when it got to the:
‘Does anyone know of any just cause or impediment as to why this couple should not be married? If so speak now or forever hold your peace…,’
part!
An awkward silence filled the room.
Slave Squealer had actually contemplated ruining the big day, just to see Master Dean’s face! He actually found himself drawing breath to speak! It was almost involuntary, the words were forming in his mouth, and he could take it no longer:
‘I….’
That was all that came out! A loud buzzing noise could then be heard as the rubber ball clipped to the slave’s inner cheek started to fill with air, effectively plugging his mouth and blocking the words within! Master Dean could be seen to move his hand off of the remote control device in his pocket! He smiled an evil grin! He had won!
‘…Then under the Gynarchy law, I now pronounce you wife and husband for evermore! Hip hip hooray!’
A short while later the newly married couple were assembled outside on the grass for their official wedding photographs! Slave Squealer was busy having lots of unwanted attention directed at him. All of the young women that had been to school with him and Sandra were busy poking fun and pulling his chain (and ball) as a joke!
Someone produced a magic marker and the girls set about signing the cangue! Slogans like:
You can suck my toejam any day fool!
My clippings in your mouth.
I used to yearn for you as a man and now my feet yearn for you as a slave!
Pain becomes you gimp!
Hours passed by, and the lonely prisoner was secured by yet another chain to a concrete post outside the wedding tent on the lawn.
He was close enough (deliberately) to hear the festivities! The father of the bride was making a speech about all of the unmanly boyfriends that had preceded Master Dean:
‘We have only to look through the tent flaps to see one of the many losers! Ha!’
The applause was deafening!
The father of the bride never did like Paul!
Yet more time passed, and the slave was employed to lick the dirty, bare feet of the female guests who had discarded their pretty, yet impractical, footwear before dancing on the dirty floor of the hall! His tongue was quite literally black with foot dirt!
Eventually a familiar set of feet and heels could be seen approaching; it was Miss Mel!
Oh no! Not more humiliation!
‘Hi Paul, I mean Squealer! I am going to lock you in the police cells tonight, to leave your Master and Mistress alone for the night, if you know what I mean?...’
How he hated her calling him by his old, pre-slave name!
‘…Oh, and Sandra told me that you have a wish list that you want me to help you with?’
He was dragged away to the nearby police station to be locked away for the night. Miss Mel still worked for the police on a liaison-officer basis and was well connected.
Squealer had hoped that she would simply lock him away upon their arrival. No such luck! She sat down on a chair and placed her black heels in his hands saying:
‘Well, if that is not an open invitation, I don’t know what is?’
She made him remove her high heels from her nylon-clad, sweaty feet and ordered him to sniff. This attracted more unwanted attention from the guards, all egging her on! An hour of nylon worship passed before the order to ‘halt while I remove my nylons’ was given! Yes, he spent several hours having to suck, sniff and lick clean the bare, sweaty feet of his former mutual friend! Someone he had considered to be his equal! Oh the shame!
The next day things actually got worse!
It was announced that the slave would be collected by the happy couple as they would be going on their honeymoon! For one bliss-filled moment, he imagined that he would be accompanying the husband and wife couple to some exotic climate?
WRONG!
Mistress Sandra came marching, rather awkwardly, into his cell to announce his fate:
‘Morning, loser! Sorry about the limp; Master Dean was like an animal last night, if you know what I mean? HA! Anyway, Master Dean has decided to fulfil yet another wish on your pathetic list while we holiday in Barbados! You will be spending two whole weeks in the public kneeling pillory! How cool is that? This will be your ‘public humiliation in front of the women townsfolk’ wish dealt with!’
‘Yes Mistress’, he replied numbly.
He was swiftly lead out to the public stocks, with Master Dean Close behind the officers and Mistress Sandra. When they all reached the town square they could see the pillory, set in concrete.
To his surprise, it was built for two footslaves! It did not look too bad either; not the usual, humiliating, boot-shaped contraption he was used to. Just an ordinary, wooden pillory. Perhaps this would be a ‘holiday’ after all?!
The lock, however, was quite a special piece of equipment. It had a four sided key that was in the shape of an X when viewed from the front. The police officer Mistress opened the pillory beam and beckoned to the prisoner. He took a deep breath and prepared for confinement.
Unfortunately for the side of law and order, the heavy wooden cangue around his neck would not fit into the contraption! The cross beam would simply not shut! Oh what luck, he thought!
‘Dean, you will have to take the cangue off him!’ said Mistress Sandra curtly.
‘NO! I don’t want to!’ he replied rather childishly.
He was actually throwing a temper tantrum!
The police officer left the key with Mistress Sandra and walked back, looking embarrassed by the free man’s behaviour:
‘Look, if you want him in the stocks, the cangue must come off! It’s simple!’
Master Dean begrudgingly removed the key from his pocket, and undid the padlock holding the despised contraption shut tightly around the slave’s scrawny neck for all those months! The relief was intense! OH JOY!
Dean thrust the slaves head and arms into the pillory and hastily locked it tight! Mistress Sandra then placed her favourite pair of black leather, biker boots at the slave’s lips for him to continually kiss while she was away!
‘Well, have fun Squealer! I have asked Miss Mel to feed you from time to time, if she can be bothered, that is! I will see you in two weeks… Don’t be long, Dean!’
With that she was gone, leaving only Master Dean, still obviously aggrieved at having to remove the slave’s cangue. Squealer could not help but smirk beneath his mask; what a big baby, he thought!
Master Dean was furious!
He stormed off to the hardware store and returned with a hammer and nails! He then proceeded to nail the cangue to the stocks so that all could see the ignominious slogans still female-handwritten in indelible ink!
He then produced a file and began to run it up and down the high security key removing several of the teeth! This rendered the only key in town useless!
‘This will be our little secret, slave boy!’
He then went behind the pillory and fumbled with the ankle bracelet on the ball and chain! When he returned, he showed Squealer the empty tube of epoxy glue that had just been squirted into the lock mechanism. Mistress Sandra was given the key for the ball and chain as a present from Master Dean; what a pity the lock has jammed permanently shut!
Dean then proceeded to remove his belt and tighten it around the slave’s waist as hard as he could! This done, he got up and just left the slave in the town square for the remainder of the honeymoon!
Needless to say, the slave became an instant attraction. People came from miles to see the outrageous mask and cangue. The female police would regularly check the padlock on the pillory; little did they know that even they could not open the punishing device anymore! Only Squealer and Master Dean knew!
He was never visited by Miss Mel during his confinement, but did not go hungry; he was fed generous quantities of sweet feminine foot detritus over his two week stint in the pillory!
When the happy couple finally arrived to fetch their property, looking suitably sun tanned and refreshed, they noticed the slave had actually gained some weight as Dean’s belt was disappearing beneath the slave’s girth!
Dean went to fetch the key, while Mistress Sandra showed off the holiday photographs to the grimaced face of the slave!
Master Dean and the female police officer returned with the key. To the surprise of the officer (and apparent surprise of Master Dean) it did not open the lock! The police officer apologised and said that they would have to wait for two days, as it was now the weekend and all of the town’s female locksmiths would be off work!
Squealer expected a protest from his pretty and merciful mistress! None came however. She simply turned to Dean and kissed him hard on the lips before saying:
‘Come on babe, it’s getting cold; we can come back for him on Monday! Let’s go back and rock the bed a little Ha!... Oh, and by the way slave, whom do you fear the most, me or Master Dean? We had a bet on the way back this afternoon!’
‘I fear you the most, Mistress! No contest!’
