Carnaj

(story continues from Home Invasion 4: Death & the Rat) Part Five: Reunion 10 Reunion It was Monday morning Jennifer realized as she lay on her belly sipping water through the bendable straw from the plastic container that the Tinies had set within reach. In just a few minutes her co-workers would no doubt be wondering where she was as it was almost 9 AM. She wondered just how long they would wait before one of them might call to find out if anything was wrong. If she was sick, stuck in traffic or held up by train delays, maybe not coming in at all. ...

1: Discovered Jennifer Monroe craned her neck, wincing as stiff bones popped and feeling the slight ache from the strain on her tortured shoulders. Peering through the dim light of the setting sun streaming through the dusty blinds covering her windows she could just make out the blurry red glow of the numbers on the alarm clock radio situated on the thin shelf above the head of her bed. 7:38 PM. Almost two hours… ...

Carnaj now has two books out on Amazon, click here to visit the page where you can view and purchase two books, one containing a short story by him, as well as an actual novella. Both contain bondage. Hopefully you will check them out… A man submits himself as a Ward of the State for a weekend of Stress Relief at a Mental Institution. Due to a clerical foul up he is scheduled for intensive bondage and restraint, more so than he signed off for… ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 6) THIRTY-ONE I looked at the Giantess as my bound body swung and twirled, hanging upside down at the end of the long leather cord that was perpetually wrapped about me in one way or another. She was smiling at me, her eyelids drooping as she lounged back against the far wall of the tub looking satisfied, and glowing just a bit. She smirked and flicked her fingers, making me bob and dance at the end of my tethers. ...

(story continues from The Wild Hunt) Five “Well, that’s one for your little pansy boy, Janie,” Sue said with a smirk knowing that her friend hated when she ridiculed her slave. Sue however did not care when it came to insulting Jane’s ‘precious’ Little c, and every chance she got to abuse or humiliate the little bastard, she took. “I didn’t think he had it in him.” Sue saw Jane smile, brushing her hair back off of her collar. ...

Kelly Merrick closed her eyes and winced as Jill sprayed her hair into place, fluffing a bit. She wrinkled her nose at the odd smell of the hairspray, trying not to sneeze as that would add more fussing to the whole process. Finally though she felt Jill’s hands slip away and she tentatively opened her big blue eyes again. Jill smiled. “All done, Kelly,” the hairstylist- slash- make- up artist said as she reached in under Kelly’s light gray blouse and adjusted the tiny microphone clipped to the spaghetti strap of her tight, black tank top. Jill’s fingers were cool, and Kelly felt a quick shiver before the plump woman was satisfied and checked the lead wire running to the box hooked onto the back of her hip-hugging leather belt. “You look Mah-velous,” the woman said with a giggle, making certain that the receiver was securely affixed. “As always.” ...

(story continues from Trusty Lab Assistant 3: Pam) Part 4: Janice I held on as best as I could as I tumbled out of control across the floor. I bounced and rolled, grunting and moaning with each and every new impact, my body starting to ache with the constant pain. As my momentum slowed, I started to roll and finally came to a stop wedged between the cold hardwood floor below and something rough and cool overhead. That would be the bottom of Pam’s slipper. ...

It was hotter than he had expected. Granted, it was October and the weather outside had taken on a definite fall chill in the air so the radiator inside the apartment was steaming full blast, but he had not thought that it would be so warm and actually humid bundled as he was in the two huge, zip-tied trash bags. He was sweating bullets, and starting to reek from his own body odor in the close confines, never mind the rancid smelling garbage that Judy had dumped into the bags and over him before going to bed - how long ago? ...

(story continues from Recycled 3) Part 4 I was exhausted already as I reached the foot of the stairs. It had been hard, worming my way forward with my hands and elbows bound behind my back, my ankles tied, but I knew that I had to if I wanted eventual release… My girlfriend Lisa and I liked to play bondage games you see, just to spice up our relationship and have a little fun. We had both spent many an hour at the other’s mercy; bound and gagged and writhing in ecstasy for the other’s pleasure. This past long weekend however, we had stepped things up a bit and tried a new fetish that I had been interested in. Lisa and I were both off work for three days, so I had convinced her to tie me up and gag me for the duration, then finally to secure me in industrial strength and huge recycling and trash bags and to treat me as garbage. Lisa had put me through some paces, and I could tell that she had loved the dominance and my helplessness by the way that she had treated me and got into the whole thing. She HAD treated me like the day’s trash and threw me out with the garbage, basically taking me downstairs to the garbage room after hours at her merciless torment, actually threatening to leave me to the tender loving hands of New York Sanitation, to be hauled away to Staten Island eventually and buried in the landfill there. ...

I heard the noise that I had been waiting for and literally jumped from the warmth of my bed before quickly running to the closest window. I heard Beth stirring behind me, rolling over but still safe and secure under the covers as I pulled the window curtains aside and pressed my face to the cool glass staring out and down. There was still a thin coating of snow in the shadowy corners and the street was damp and shining in the early light of the sun. A beautiful day by the looks of it, and quiet but for the rumble of the huge grinding engine and the ‘spflang’ of the dumpster’s massive arms. I stared at the garbage truck in all its glory. ...

1: Discovered Jennifer Monroe craned her neck, wincing as stiff bones popped and feeling the slight ache from the strain on her tortured shoulders. Peering through the dim light of the setting sun streaming through the dusty blinds covering her windows she could just make out the blurry red glow of the numbers on the alarm clock radio situated on the thin shelf above the head of her bed. 7:38 PM. Almost two hours… ...

(story continues from Home Invasion 1: Discovered) Part Two 3 Linda’s Story Sleep was a long time coming… The Tinies had worked long into the night making as much of Jennifer’s small studio apartment as accessible as possible. Rope ladders dangled from the kitchen counter, her bed, her desk and she assumed her bathroom as some Tinies had emerged from there shoving a half-full bottle of aspirin, her dental floss, a roll of white surgical tape, a bag of cotton balls and a box of bandages. They had filled sandwich bags with safety pins, paper clips and clamps, sewing needles and small nails from a box on her dresser near the hall. They had taken batteries from her desktop, pushpins and even her old I-Touch and charger. From her purse they had taken nail polish and gum, a pack of cigarettes, matches and her Zippo lighter and fluid, an emery board and finally her cell phone that lay on the floor tantalizingly just out of easy reach. ...

(story continues from Home Invasion 2: Linda’s Story) Part Three: Crime & Punishment 5 Crime In her dreams her captors tortured her… Well, perhaps tormented was closer to the truth. They had kept her naked, gagged and bound, hog tied on the floor of her tiny Manhattan Studio apartment for days with little to eat or drink while they gathered her possessions to steal. The masked man and woman had been living there the entire time of her captivity. Eating her food, watching her television, enjoying themselves while she suffered in bondage. ...

(story continues from Home Invasion 3: Crime & Punishment) Part Four: Death & the Rat 8 Abortion Jennifer woke with a start hearing the high, tiny shrill shrieks of one of her captors. She blinked, shifting and trying to come awake, wondering what was happening but careful not to move her aching body too much, not wanting another death on her hands. “Take the phone!” a loud voice boomed as she struggled and craned her neck to see what was going on. She could hear the Tinies shouting and pain coursed through her as she shifted, her abused nipples and feet ablaze with agony. The shock collar was still embedded in her pussy but thankfully the pins and needles had been removed from her breasts; she vaguely recalled waking as the Tinies crawled over her sliding them out. The television flashed and flickered as Keanu Reeves leapt from a small sports car onto a speeding Los Angeles bus. ...

ONE Jane woke slowly… It was warm in her bedroom, luxurious and comforting. She simply laid there, coming awake and letting her eyes focus on her surroundings; the rich, dark paneling of her walls, the expensive prints and pastels framed for her pleasure, the old, sturdy furniture of the dresser and vanity, the wardrobe that she loved so much. She could smell coffee percolating in the kitchen, barely, over the smells of bacon and eggs. Jane smiled, glad that Cook was single, with no family near. Her mouth watered, anticipating breakfast. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy)_ SIX I woke to darkness… My world was spinning, swaying to and fro and I felt my mind swirling in kind as I tried to get my bearings. I was still bound; hand, foot and elbow, and by the feel about me, still lying helplessly in the toe of an over-sized nylon stocking that dangled from the ceiling. But truth, it wasn’t the stocking that was over-sized, but rather me that had been shrunk down to the size of a mouse and deposited within for the night for safekeeping. By my Giant captress, Jane, who was now missing. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 2)_ TEN I tumbled about with her movements… My captress, the Giantess Jane had declared that we were going out- “to the mall,” she had said, and for her convenience rather than my comfort she had simply and literally dropped me into her purse. I hit hard, my little four-inch body slamming on something hard and metallic, knocking the breath out of me in a gush. I bounced and rolled, wrapped up in almost a ball in my hog-tie, sliding deeper into the depths of her bag. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 3)_ SIXTEEN I don’t know how long I spent on the floor at the feet of the Giantess Jane, she who now owned me, apparently. I was only now, after all the things that happened to me; the shrinking and experiments, the indignities and punishments to realize that my captress and her friends all considered me as less than human. Not a man any more, but more a pet or toy for their amusement. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 4)_ NINETEEN I was floundering in the icy cold, wet dark… My arms and legs were aching and cramping as I treaded water, trying desperately to keep afloat. I don’t know how long it had been since the Giantess Jane’s butler had dropped me into the pitcher of ice water in the refrigerator, but it felt like eternity. I could feel the icy chill permeating my bones, seeping into my skin and making my tiny, six-inch body sluggish. My muscles were cramping from both the cold and the effort of keeping my head above water. True, I was resilient since I had been shrunk, but I still felt pain, and extremes of hot and cold, and after having just been encased in hot wax, my skin was even more tender and raw against this new, frigid punishment. One thing; my erection had shriveled away into nothing. At one point I had given up, or at least thought that I had. My aching tired body had been paddling for what seemed hours, and the punishment and hopeless, helpless thing that my life had become unbearable; the constant torture from the giantess and everyone it seemed, the humiliations at her hands, and the alienation. No one would help me, and in fact, everyone I encountered seemed to want to see me abject and humiliated, if not outright hurt. It was too much… So, when my body started to ache too much and I was shivering too hard in the icy water I had simply succumbed and let gravity drag me down. I thumped on the bottom, still shivering and sore, and waited to drown. And waited… And waited… I shot back to the surface after what had to be minutes and gasped for air as soon as I broke the top of the water. I had not drowned, but I still did need to breathe. I did not understand, but I floundered and kicked on the edge of panic for some time. Finally though I had started to calm, my heartbeat slowing again, the pain returning. I had not died. Had I really wanted to? If I had, did it matter? And then I had to wonder. I had heard often of children dying, suffocating in abandoned refrigerators because some idiot had not removed the door. The air had run out. The air would run out on me, maybe should have already. I don’t know, but I am still here, still paddling after what has to be hours in the dark and icy cold… ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 5)_ TWENTY-FOUR I bucked and moaned as the light of the Fazer played over me. I felt that sensation, as though a sledgehammer had just been slammed into my stomach, and I was suddenly sweating and vomiting the jism that I had swallowed not so long ago. I rolled about on the bedspread, feeling my body dwindling in size and mass. Worse, the leather cord shrank as well and continued to hold me wrapped tightly from head to toe. I pissed myself in final insult, before the sensations and effects of the Fazer finally started to recede. ...

Recycled - Part One I met my girlfriend Lisa some five years ago. We both worked at a local supermarket in Brooklyn, she being a cashier while I was a stock clerk. We hit it off pretty well, friendly like at first; taking lunch and breaks together, riding the same train going home, that sort of thing. It took a couple years before we actually became a couple though, and that only happened through a queer twist of fate. ...

(story continues from Recycled) Recycled: Part 2 I spent a long and restless night bound and gagged and triple wrapped in plastic garbage bags set roughly on the cold, hard floor of the hallway… How had I come to this you might ask? Hell, I was asking that myself, over and over. It had been my idea, truly, though it had not taken much convincing on my part. The bondage part was nothing new of course. My girlfriend, Lisa and I had been playing bondage games for a few years now, ever since we finally discovered that we shared the common desire and fetish. Most generally I was the recipient of her ‘tender’ mercies as I was the one who was more submissive while she often showed that she had crueler, wicked tendencies, at least in our games. Nothing severe mind; Lisa loved having me under her control and power on occasion, and for my part I reciprocated. I loved being tied and got off on the humiliation and embarrassment of being bound and gagged to her whim, then held, sometimes for hours at a time while she walked about our apartment, flaunting her freedom. ...

(story continues from Recycled 2) Recycled: Part 3 Author’s Note: I noticed a couple discrepancies between Parts 1 and 2. Nothing major I suppose, but I wanted to explain. First, the name of the main protagonist shifted from Ken to Kirk between the first two parts. Also, the packing in the victim’s mouth changed from a scarf to crusty socks. I blame this on the fact that I wrote the 2 issues on 2 separate computers. My own fault, in my rush to get the story off, though I read through for grammar, I didn’t read for continuity’s sake. In this part 3 I kept the errors in place as the former did not seem consequential, and the latter actually added to the story. Hopefully it reads well… ...

Prelude He woke shivering in the chill fall air… He was naked, of course, except for the chastity cage that was locked about his genitals, for how long now he could not even remember, and the chains and collar. The coarse burlap that covered the straw pallet that had been his bed for the night did little to offer comfort, let alone warmth, but somehow he had slept. He moaned and rolled about, struggling up to his elbows as he looked around the dim, stone chamber. ...

Part 1: The Accident It was my freshman year in High School; my 15th winter when my life and survival became someone else’s concern. Through no planning of my own, though because of my own carelessness I imagine, I lost my ability to decide things for myself. When I eat, and sleep, and even when I go to the bathroom is all at the whim of my keeper. It really isn’t such a horrible existence, but it can be trying and humiliating at times, and it is then when I wish it all would end. But it can’t, so fate has decided. So I go on, day after day, doing as I am told… evermore… ...

(story continues from Trusty Lab Assistant 1: The Accident) Part 2: ‘Doc’ Ellington I woke to total darkness, breathing hard. A wave of panic washed over me as I tried to accustom my sight to the shadows and did not recognize my surroundings. I did not know where I was, and started to flail about, tangling myself in the blankets about me. I felt silk and cotton, and there was a strange, suffocating smell in the air. I called out for my father, my mother… ...

(story continues from Trusty Lab Assistant 2: Doc Ellington) Part 3: Pam I dreamed in shades of gray… I was in my home, the place where I had grown up, the safest place I knew. It was wrong though, and as I moved sluggishly from room to room I felt uneasy and a little bit afraid. The warm and sunny colors that my mother had decorated the house in had been replaced by dull and drab degrees of black and white. The walls were dark and barren. The carpeting was black and gritty under foot and I kicked up clouds of dust with every step. Thick, stifling curtains shut out the world beyond, letting in only thin slices of a bright and garish light. The furniture was worn and threadbare, and oddly huge. ...