Social Services

I spent the next hour or so hanging in my obscene skin tight body suit whilst Scott busied himself in other rooms.  My mind raced to find a way to remove myself from this predicament, but I could only see patience as the solution.  Patience to find a way to escape.

I knew that Scott was quite prepared to use violence, and I knew that he would genuinely see me as his inferior, in size and in terms of colour.  Swinging around on my neck chain to see the posters on the wall confirmed this.

As time went on, my muscles strained, my neck chafed against the cold, uncomfortable steel of my collar and my feet ached on tiptoes.  I wanted to go to the toilet as well, adding to my discomfort.

Eventually, Scott reappeared and wordlessly released the chain from the wall.  My calves spasmed in pain from the cold and the strain, and I fell to the floor on my knees.  My hands instinctively moved to my neck, to try and relieve the pressure against the cold, unrelenting collar.

"Time to go for a walk slave boy.  I will be taking you out every day, and this will be your only opportunity to piss and shit like a good dog."

I looked up at him disbelievingly, not quite sure exactly what he meant.

"Get your slave costume off boy," he barked.  Looking up from the floor at him towering above me, I suddenly felt a pang of inferiority.  A feeling that he was my superior and that this position was inevitable for me.