Jules remains in the chest, trapped in the darkness, barely able to wiggle about in his iron and wooden prison.  The clamps on his nipples brushing against his thighs as he shifts there, trying to find something a little more comfortable.  But only causing more pain as those clamps are jerked about by those movements.  Whimpering into his gag, he tries to still himself, maybe he can get some small measure of sleep.  Which is elusive, after a time, sore muscles force him to move, and start the pain all over again.<br/><br/>Jules is blinking, as the light pours into his box, he begins to move, to straighten up, before her heel in his back stops him.  He shivers seeing the strap on that graces her.  Mentally sighing, knowing it will be used on him all to soon.<br/><br/>Jules sighs as the gag is removed, opening and closing his mouth several times, to get the sore muscles to working.  Giving a shake of his head no, no, he does not feel good.  Sighing again, at the thought of begging for food.<br/><br/>And then, she pulls him up, and Jules stands there in the box.  Nodding his head, a whispered, "Yes mistress," as her fingers brush against his breasts, then groaning as she flips the weight with her fingers.<br/><br/>Jules does as ordered, stepping carefully out of the chest.  Feeling a bit wobbly as his lifts his second leg clear.  He moves carefully to the table, stopping next to it, giving it a quick look, before his eyes return to her, and what she is doing.  Shivering, seeing all those whips.