The Wrong Choices, Chapter 7 – Cleaned and Cleared







With every hour a new torture, a new humiliation had been inflicted upon me throughout the night, and the morning turned out to be worse. I was already tired, exhausted and hungry. After all, I hadn’t eaten anything since Wednesday evening; and to add to it I needed to pee. Zoya and my BF were taking their time enjoying the sun rise and talking, as if they were out there on a picnic.  Frustrated and helpless, I just closed my eyes and lay still, trying to process all that had happened in the past 12 hours.


Time went by, and nothing happened until suddenly Zoya shrieked, “What the fuck? Did she pass out?” Almost immediately, a feminine finger was right below my nostrils – checking if I was still breathing. I chose to stay still, and avoid any interaction whatsoever with the woman.


My boyfriend’s voice followed, “She’s fine. Dozed off probably. She is getting used to being restrained.”


“Good, because we need to talk,” she replied. “I wanted to talk about this yesterday night, but you were drunk and angry as fuck, so there was no point saying anything to you…”


“First thing, I wasn’t that drunk. And second, talk about what?” he interrupted.


She paused for a few seconds, as if, to gather her thoughts. “What are you doing with her? And why the hell would you bring the damn bitch to the bungalow in the middle of the night?”


“Those bastards were out, and you said you were bored, so I brought some entertainment. Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun last night. Oh and by the way, weren’t you the one who suggested that I should teach her some lessons and break her a bit?”, he retorted.


She lost her patience. “That’s not the point, damn it. You were supposed to keep her busy until tonight. And breaking her meant just teaching her a lesson. Normal things like being rude, pissed off, distant and hateful should have sufficed. Just enough to make sure that she hates you, and doesn’t come looking for you. That simple, dumbass. 


All right. I was lost now. All this, tying me up and spanking me and all was planned? What were these two talking about? It came out as so twisted that I had the temptation to open my eyes and mumble my confusion through the stuffed panties and the transparent tape. Nope. Pointless. It was wiser to let the conversation go on.


She continued, “Look you asshole, don’t fuck up the plan. We are walking on a thin rope here, and those bastards back at the bungalow won’t think twice before killing you off, and throwing me back into their basement. This isn’t a joke! Just cut the crap! Go easy on her. Clean her up and let her get some rest. All this? This is too much? And you kept claiming that you loved her. Nonsense. All you needed was an excuse to avenge all the times she was mean to you. What a pussy! And now you have to keep her restrained. We can’t let her go running off right now. I should have never trusted you. Shit!”


Wow, someone was bashing the shit out of him, and I was loving it. I wish I could see his face right now. No matter what, that slut Zoya had just earned my respect. That bull-headed idiot deserved to be scolded like a kid.


But he wasn’t one to give up that easy. “Hold on a second. All of this – it is between me and her. You stay out of it. And I was wondering, why do you even need her around till the night? Why not just let her go right now? What’s your angle at this, because after all this time, I know, you always have an angle.”


I expected a quick response, instead what I heard was an unsure voice, full of hesitation. “She is a distraction. For them. As long as she is in town, they won’t bother to follow you or me. They know you will be busy entertaining and pleasing your precious girlfriend. Which means, I get some breathing space, and we get to do what we planned tonight, while they least expect it.”


“I don’t get it. But fine, devious woman. So be it. FYI, I don’t trust you either. Just go now!” he relented finally.


“Listen! Calm down. Take care and be careful. It will all be over soon. Bye. And by the way, I am taking my dog with me, you manage your bitch.”, she chuckled.


Some giggling from both, followed by “pch, pch, pch” sounds of passionate smooching, ended the discussion, and she probably walked away. I still chose to stay immobile and pretend I never heard any of it. If she needed me to stay till tonight, it meant I should run off on first chance. That’s all I could focus my thoughts on.


I was roused from my musings, when he unlocked the chain from the pipe, and cut off the rope holding my wrists to my knees, and uncuffed my ankles. More milk was splashed on my face forcing me to finally open my eyes.  He lifted me in his arms with ease and carried me to the lift. My spirit was too broken, and my brain too overloaded to do anything at all, and I just lay still until we were back in his bedroom. The silly girl inside me smiled at how he was carrying me his arms. It was adorable – obviously except for the collar, cuffs and chain.


“All right. You smell like shit. Time to clean you up!” he finally spoke up.


“Damn right, thanks to you. Jackass!” I wanted to say.


On by one, the handcuffs, the tape, the shirt, my bra and the towel were ripped off, and then the handcuffs were put back again. I was completely naked and exposed, except for the handcuffs and the dog collar. He had seen me naked before, but this felt embarrassingly different. I was dragged towards the bathroom and then pushed onto the toilet seat. He pulled the chain, and locked it around the shower and walked out, leaving the bathroom door wide open. Okay. So, still being treated like a bitch, chained to a peg, with enough room to move around, but no chance to run away. Adorable, my foot.


To make matters worse, he came back, clicked my picture and left again. I sat there being unable to relieve myself. The way he was treating me was too much too handle, and thinking about all the good times made me cry. Once I had cried my heart out, I let my bladder relieve itself. But with my hands still cuffed, taking out the toilet paper and wiping myself was more difficult than I had imagined. I managed it somehow, got up, and walked to the wash basin.


The face that looked back at me from the mirror, was definitely not that of Ananya Salgaocar. There was dust all over my face, my hair was dry, sticky and rough. The transparent tape covered my lips, and my cheeks bulged because of the panties in my mouth. I turned on the tap, applied some cold water to my face, and slowly ripped off the tape. It pulled at my lips, but finally came off. It felt yuck to put my fingers inside, and pull out the wet sodden ball of cloth. The jaws were opened wide beyond their limit, and hence had eventually locked down, making me bite down on the panties hard.


Thankfully I had worn these small thongs, otherwise if I had gone with my full knickers, the stuffing would have been twice of what it was. Just yanking them out, took some tugging and pulling, but eventually they came out. My mouth was so parched, it seemed I hadn’t drunk water since ages.


I brushed my teeth emptying almost half of the toothpaste, to get rid of the weird taste from my mouth. Being so occupied with my face, it didn’t come to my notice that he was standing at the doorway. My mouth was free of all the horribly stuff in a long time, but I just couldn’t speak. This was my chance and I took it. “Look, I… I get it.” I stuttered. “Whatever you are trying to teach me and all that, but this is way too much. I agreed to punishment thinking you would do something normal, like not talking to me, or leaving me alone at home etc. But this is completely insane. I cheated on you, and you slept with that neighbor of yours, so let’s call it even and stop this right away. A minute longer and I wimmppphhhh..mmmm”.


“Nope. Not yet, sweetie.” He said, smoothening a new strip of transparent tape over my lips again. The moron was always prepared. Damn. He pulled my wrists, lifted my arms over me in a quick forceful tug, and secured them to the shower with a small piece of rope, passed through the handcuff’s chain. Next, the collar chain was tightened again so that there was no slack, and the chain was tied to the basin’s pipe.


I stood there naked, my arms pulled over me, uncomfortably tied to the shower, while he went out and returned with his golf stick. He spread my legs wide apart, and taped my ankles to the ends of the stick. I couldn’t pull my legs together and that gave him full access to my waist and lady parts.


So, this how it was going to end. The strong and stubborn bitch from hell, subdued and bound to the shower, spread apart with a stick, and penetrated in the bathroom – by her own boyfriend. I had to make sure that I stood straight because even a little movement, made the rope pull my arms upwards, and threatening to rip them apart from my body, if I wasn’t careful. The tape gag didn’t bother me anymore, and in fact felt good, as it prevented me from making any attempts to talk to him. A free mouth would mean attempts to plead and convince, and eventually end up making things worse. Better stay shut up. For now, at least. I tried to adjust my posture, but the collar leash clanked and kept pulling at my throat. I just wanted to stretch as far for him as possible, even if that would mean, getting choked.


As per the protocol followed so far, he took out his phone, and once again clicked my picture. I tried to guess what was the plan here, did he intend to make a collage out of it, and hang in on his wall as a reminder of his manly actions, or was he going to send all the pics to Zoya for her entertainment?


What he brought out next from the washroom cabinet made me shudder and pulled at the shower like crazy, hoping it would break off.


I threatened him the best I could,  “Oo Ooot dattt. Ou cannntt. Aaa ill kiiiiii ouuuu..”


But he just ignored it, and got down on his knees right in front of me. The sound of motor whirring came first and then the feeling followed. He was working on my crotch, with his beard trimmer. I could feel the blades between my thighs, as he methodically trimmed off my pubic hair. He knew well that I had no intention of removing them yet. They never bothered me, and I would have done it myself when the right time came, i.e. when I was ready to have sex. And yet, he went ahead without my permission, ignoring all my protests and grunts of displeasure.


“Don’t move Ananya, I need to focus.” He continued shaving off the hair near my vagina, and even in and around my butt crack. I couldn’t even look down to see what is being done to me, because if I did, the collar at my neck would just choke me.




When, he was finally done, he stood back to admire his work. With a stupid grin on his face he took another picture. Yeah, like that was an ideal before-after scenario for the trimmer company’s Ad. He stripped off his clothes, stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water.


A relief passed over me as warm water fell on my tired body. He took some shampoo in his palm and rubbed it into my hair, slowly massaging my scalp with his fingers. Oh, he was always great at those head massages, and they worked every time in calming me up. His long fingers ran through my tangled hair, making me wince a little. Every time they came across a knot, he pulled a little and straightened it out, and each time I let out an Aaahh through my taped lips. His body almost touched mine and I felt an electric charge run through my nerves.


The water, the muffled aahhhs, the warmth of his skin against mine, all of it, almost made me forget everything else that happened before. He took my straightened hair and tied them into a bun behind my head. I had taught him how to do that, and it almost made me smile, but the tape restricted it. I opened my eyes to find him squeezing body wash onto his palm and a second wave of emotions came over me, as he started rubbing his hands over my skin, starting right at the top.


His right and left hand were at my bound wrists, and were slowly proceeding downwards in complete tandem, rubbing across my arms, my underarms and then onto my chest. He went behind me and put more soap on my back, making me straighten up, as I felt his hands tracing a straight line through my spinal cord. My neck and my back had always been my weaknesses and he knew well how to exploit them. The rubbing at my back continued in circles, as he kissed on my neck and shoulders. Soft, gentle, wet and warm kisses first on the right shoulder and then on the left. It felt like heaven. I dropped my head back a little, acknowledging his moves. He took the cue and put his arms around me and started scrubbing my chest.


He took his time massaging and lathering my breasts, with the shower gel, fingers moving as if he was kneading dough. The nipples tightened, and my small breasts firmed up embarrassing me so much, that blood rushed to my face. Drops of cold shower gel fell on my breasts, while he continued the slow and gradual massage, the tips of his index finger caressing my nipples, in circles and his palms cupping the breasts and lifting them up. I closed my eyes, and focused on the feelings


He stepped forward again and bent down on his knees taking some extra soap and a lot of time, in applying it between my legs. His thick, long fingers went in everywhere, between my legs, on my butt, into the butt crack, and out in the front again. Usually, during our make-outs, I would have pressed my legs closely together shutting him off, but this time, I could just helplessly make feeble attempts to pull them together, while the stick kept them spread wide apart, letting him take full advantage of the situation.


The rubbing and touching, was driving me nuts, in a good way. High on adrenaline and endorphin, I squirmed a bit with every movement of his hand, and moans escaped my taped lips now and again. I could have made more noise, but I just didn’t. His left hand was grabbing my butt cheek, while the right continued the so called “cleaning” between my thighs. I wanted him to go on for however long it could take. Eventually, his hands moved to my long, wet legs, while his lips took over the task of caressing my thighs and crotch.


By the time, he reached my knees and feet, I was relieved and confident that sex was not on his agenda and though my crotch was trimmed, nothing else would happen down there anymore. I was probably wrong, but the bath had calmed my nerves and rejuvenated my love and faith in him. It was morning already, and surely the best time to have breakfast after such an intense shower.


Maybe the ship hadn’t really sailed that far, and we still had a chance at a normal weekend. My positive thoughts continued as he removed the tape from my lips, cleaned my face cautiously with my favorite face wash, and, rinsed my body off under the full surge of hot water from the shower.  I didn’t want the bathing to stop, but once again I kept my opinion to myself. Was I submitting to him? It made me wonder. I was dried off with a soft towel very slowly and then the rope and chain were untied, and the golf stick was removed.


His strong wrists grabbed my cuffed wrists, and pulled my tired yet refreshed body into the bedroom. I was about to say something about the collar and handcuffs, but he kept his finger on my lips, pointed at all the roll of duct tape lying nearby and said “Shhhh.”


I kept quiet, too afraid to piss him off all over again. He had indeed broken me and managed to put fear in me, in less than 8 hours; because, under different circumstances, I would have taken his finger from my lips and bent it, and said everything I wanted to say, without giving a rat’s ass about his shhhh. But in that moment, I just cared about getting things back to normal again.  


He removed the collar first, and then took out the small key from the pockets of his denim lying on the floor and unlocked the handcuffs. Moving to the corner, he bent down and fished through my bag, and came back with my white camisole. It was tossed to me, while his eyes gave the command to wear it.


I wore it quickly and quietly, appreciating the touch of soft silk against my skin. He was looking around for something, and I couldn’t help saying, “White panties? They are in the bathroom.” Yes, thanks to him they lay there on the wash basin all wadded up and wet. I knew he loved seeing me in just the white camisole and white panties. But he just ignored what I had said, walked to the living room, and came back with a coil of white rope.


”No. Not again. Stop it. You made your point. Now let’s just get breakfast and go back to being a normal couple again. I am your girlfriend damn it, not your toy”, I blurted out all of it in one breath.


It appeared as if I had got through to him. He smiled and said, “All right. You win. How about we play a small couple’s game. Maybe truth or dare?”








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