Sally and her Mistresses Ch. 03

Sally and her Mistresses 03

Thank you for opening this story, and a special thanks to those who have read the first two parts. In this instalment the cast remains very small, as Sally, Maude and Mikaela develop their relationship. Although it is still consensual, there is an increasing sense that Sally has no clear idea of what awaits her, so I make no apology, this time, for putting the story in the "non-con" category. We will go further- I hope together- in part four.

American (and other non-British) readers might benefit from knowing that MFI, which is referred to in the story, was a chain of warehouse-like outlets selling mainly flat-pack furniture and kitchens. It served the lower end of the market, and its products had a reputation for flimsiness, although I have to admit that I had a three-piece suite from them that did sterling service for many years. The chain closed in 2008.

The following is mainly for those who have not read the first two parts. Regulars might prefer to jump to the story itself. If you have read the first section but not the second, feel free to skip the next two paragraphs!

Sally Greenhall is a buxom and curvy woman in her very early twenties; a recent graduate who is taking, as an associate student, a module on The Literature of Alternative Feminisms. Maude, the tutor, befriends her and clearly has a sexual interest in her, but she is already in a settled lesbian relationship with Mikaela, who is an investment banker and extremely rich. Both women are dominant, and for their lives to be complete they need a submissive. They have agreed that, should they find a suitable candidate, they will have sex with her only if she is in bondage.

Sally is by nature submissive, and she readily agrees to spend a weekend at Maude's house, which turns out to be in the southern part of the English Lake District. There she is bound and seduced, and then stretched out on a bed to await Mikaela's return from work. She is ruthlessly exploited by the latter and then, after dinner, used by both her new mistresses. The first part of the novel ends with her being chained up for the night, alone in bed, with a screen showing porn for her to watch until she falls asleep.

In the second part, Maude challenges Sally to spend the whole day with her hands bound behind her back, offering her a "day of bliss" if she can last for seven hours. Much of the time is spent in a boathouse by the tarn at the bottom of the garden, where the two of them have passionate sex, several times. Later on, however, Sally is walked back to the house naked in torrential rain. She manages to complete the seven hours, much to her mistresses' surprise.

On her third day in Maude's house, the "bliss" turns out to be a series of long, erotic massages, and Sally is exhausted by the intensity of her orgasms. In the evening, Mikaela produces various kinds of bondage equipment, which they try out on Sally. She is allowed to sleep with them for the first time, and part three begins with her waking up the following morning.

The Commitment

Discipline

Slave Sally and her two mistress, Maude and Mikaela, slept the night through without waking, and the first thing Sally knew of the new day was a feeling of warm wetness on her face as a crotch was lowered onto her mouth. After a moment of panicky disorientation she understood what was happening and reached out with her tongue to lick the soft tissue that was sliding over her lips, thinking that she could tell from the taste that it was Mikaela. It was indeed, but she had a fifty percent chance of getting it right.

On her back, with nothing to look at but parts of two buttocks, she had no idea where Maude was or what she was doing, but soon the flushing of the en suite toilet answered the question. Not long afterwards she felt weight on her midriff as her strap-on was mounted. Her two riders began to move in unison, and she could imagine, but could not see, their mouths together above her. She could feel that each of her breasts had been firmly grasped by two hands, used like the pommel of a saddle, and started wondering how roughly they were going to use her. She could do very little to participate; she tried to brace her legs and midriff to give Maude something firm to push down on but her ankles were chained too close to the foot of the bed for her to get any real purchase on the mattress.

At the other end, she tried to be creative with her tongue and lips, but Mikaela was putting more and more weight into each bounce, and she had to settle for keeping her tongue as rigid as possible, and simply allowing it to slide in and out. It was tiring, and the familiar problem of tongue fatigue was threatening by the time the two women came almost simultaneously. The downward pressure on her mouth was strong and continuous enough to make her fear for the safety of her lips, but it was lifted quite suddenly.

With a sinking feeling, she realised that her two mistresses were changing places. Maude did not put as much weight on her, but it was still a difficult few minutes. She found it impossible to keep her tongue fully extended and rigid, but the lighter touch allowed her to move her whole mouth over the labia and clitoral area, making only occasional thrusts into the sodden depths beyond. They took longer this time, and by the time they were both satisfied her lips felt more bruised still and her hips battered and weakened. When they dismounted they spent some time talking together out on the landing, and she heard nothing of what was said. Maude returned alone, and instigated a long, sensuous kissing and fondling session, but made no attempt to satisfy her or use her again for her own gratification.

After half an hour or so Mikaela breezed into the room fully dressed. "I'm off," she said, "I'll be back for lunch; I'll bring something with me. Have a nice morning; I trust you're not going to spend it all in bed."

In fact Maude got them up as soon as she'd gone. Sally's hips did feel stiff and sore as she shuffled to the shower, and as she washed her face Maude remarked on her lips. "You look all pouty today, as if you have a secret supply of Botox under the bed. I rather like it; all the more for me to kiss."

At the breakfast table, the manacle that Sally was still wearing left her able to eat her cereal and drink coffee and juice, but her mistress had to spread her toast for her. As they ate Sally became aware that an exercise bike had been moved into the sitting area of the kitchen. Presumably Mikaela had pulled it out of the utility room before she had left. When they had finished eating Maude chained her by the collar to one of the posts in the living room while she cleared away and sorted out some washing.

Sally sat on the floor, watching gentle drizzle falling in the garden and wishing that her mistress had switched the TV on. It seemed a long time before she returned and told her to stand up. She took the manacle off and replaced it behind her back, where the weight did seem more telling. and as had been predicted the evening before, tended to pull her shoulders straighter.

"They do look good like that, but I'd like to see you in a proper armbinder," she said. "Anyway, it's time for you to get some exercise. Come back into the kitchen."

Once there Maude took off the lock that held Sally's ankles together, helped her to mount the exercise bike, and told her to start pedalling. It was not easy; she could not, of course, hold the handlebars, so she had to sit bolt upright, using her weight to keep herself stable in the saddle, with just the muscles in her legs to work the pedals.

Maude seemed satisfied. "I expect you're a beginner at this, so we'll start with ten miles at ten miles an hour, shall we? I'll get on with some housework and come back to check on you now and again."

Sally hated exercise machines. She had tried them all- rowing, running and cycling- and they all bored her to tears. She pedalled away as best she could until her mistress was safely out of sight and earshot, and then slackened her pace to a crawl. Fifteen minutes later she heard footsteps in the hall, and was back up to speed before Maude reappeared to watch her briefly. That sequence was repeated twice more before the hour was up. Sally was suffering by then despite her reduced pace. All the muscles in her legs ached, and as they and her upper body were essentially working against one another, her midriff was feeling strained and weakened. The weight of the metal restraint was pulling on her upper arms and shoulders. She was hoping that Maude would not bother to read the meter on the handlebars, but disappointment was inevitable.

"According to this you've only done six miles. That's not good enough, as I'm sure you know."

"I'm very sorry, mistress. I did my best, and it hurts."

"Well, we'll see what Mikaela has to say when she gets back. You can spend the rest of the morning reflecting on your failure."

She helped her off the bike and led her back to the living room. There she locked her ankles together and attached them to the upright post nearest the window. Then she put the breather gag on her and blindfolded her. She unlocked the manacle, drew Sally's arms up over her head and round the post, and put it back on. It had a convenient ring welded between the wrist restraints, and with that she used a piece of rope to tie it to the ring that sometimes held a plant hanger. Sally was thus left standing with her back hard against the post, her feet flat on the floor but her body slightly stretched and bowed, and her breasts thrust outwards. She felt her mistress's hands manipulating them.

"This is a good display pose; these look fantastic. It would be good with your legs opened with a stretcher bar as well. Anyway; think about how you're going to get yourself a bit fitter."

With that, Sally was left to contemplate her shortcomings. She was there alone for about an hour, after which the extent of her mistress's disappointment was becoming apparent to her. The strain on her shoulders, which had been a little sore to start with, became quite severe, and she was able to get a little relief only by standing on tiptoe, which was itself painful after a very short time, and tended to press her upper back harder against the post. That wouldn't have mattered if it had been round in section, but as it was the hard corners dug into her flesh. The last twenty minutes were simply a matter of alternating discomforts, all of which got steadily worse, and Mikaela's return did not bring immediate relief.

The two mistresses took their time over discussing their mornings' activities, standing in front of her and feeling her stretched and strained muscles. Eventually, while Mikaela went into the kitchen to put lunch on the table, Maude took her down, removed the gag and blindfold, and replaced her restraints with the leather-and-steel cuffs and collar, hands in front and locked with a foot of chain to her throat.

This was the first time they had lunched a trois, but it was not a conventional social gathering. The two mistresses sat at the table eating delicacies bought from the patisserie in the nearby town, sipping fresh-squeezed juice to help them down. Sally, still in disgrace, was on the floor with a few chunks of dry bread and a glass of water. She ate it hungrily, for the morning had taken its toll and she was starving, and afterwards she was given a bowl of plain rice pudding from a can. She was not offered coffee. When they repaired to the living room her hands were locked behind her and the breather gag was refitted. As Maude and Mikaela sipped cappuccinos, the latter studied a file on her laptop, before connecting it by a cable to the TV.

"I'm afraid that this morning's disobedience was worse than you thought," she said to her lover. "Watch this for a few minutes."

The screen was showing high-definition footage of Sally on the exercise machine. She was pumping away for all she was worth, breasts swaying from side to side, upper body twisting as she struggled for balance without the use of her arms and hands. Her expression was one of grim determination, with sudden moments of anxiety as she rocked a little too far. To one side could be seen Maude, hands on hips, watching intently. In the top tight of the screen a counter showed a speed of fifteen miles per hour, and the distance covered; as yet negligible.

Then Maude walked out of the picture, and a door could be heard closing. Immediately Sally's expression turned to one of concentration as she listened, presumably for footsteps, and the speed dropped to ten, and then gradually to five miles per hour, and she visibly relaxed. Mikaela let the file run at double speed until the image of Sally suddenly tensed, and slowed to normal speed again. The speed rapidly increased, the naked body swaying alarmingly with the sudden effort, and Maude entered the picture. After making her inspection she left again, and immediately the pace dropped.

"No need to see it all, I guess," was Mikaela's comment. "You've been too soft with her. She hasn't fully grasped her place in the scheme of things."

Maude looked subdued. "It's disappointing. I was beginning to think we'd get through this weekend without having to punish her."

"That wouldn't have been a good thing anyway. She needs to know what's involved before she makes up her mind."

"I suppose so. We might as well get on with it then."

The preparations took a few minutes. Sally was strung in an X- shape between two of the posts that supported the ceiling. The took great care to ensure that her body was fully extended without being painfully stretched, and positioned her a few inches above the floor, with her feet on wooden blocks brought in from the garage. The gag was left in place, and it added greatly to Sally's feeling of helplessness. In her imagination a slavegirl about to be punished would be begging for mercy, or forgiveness, or both, promising to improve her behaviour, and/or to perform ever more degrading sexual services. Instead she just had to await the outcome of her owners' deliberations.

"I think a dozen should be enough this time," said Maude. "Shall we take half each, and try two different whips?"

"I agree about the dozen," came the reply. "But if you whip her, I'll use a cane. It'll be a good sampler for her, and help her to remember when she sits down for the next day or two."

And so it was decided. They left the room briefly and returned with their choices, a black leather five-strand whip about thirty inches long, and a classic schoolmaster's bamboo cane; thin and flexible. As neither woman had ever used them in anger before, they treated the upholstery to some practice swings, the loud "thwacks" leaving Sally in no doubt that she was in for a painful few minutes.

Then, surprisingly perhaps, they stripped naked, before pulling away the wooden blocks. The care they had taken over the tension of the supporting chains meant that Sally now dropped so that her feet were only an inch or two off the floor, and her weight was almost equally distributed between her wrist and ankle cuffs. Mikaela now brought an upright chair around and put it facing away, sitting astride it with her arms on the back. She took a minute to drink in the sight of the spread and hanging girl, and, as her right hand went down to her crotch, she nodded to Maude.

Sally had no real idea what to expect. She knew it would hurt, of course, and had resolved to try to take it bravely and silently. But the first stroke still shocked her, and yell of protest emerged from the gag as a meaningless hooting noise. The line of fiery pain was more or less what she had anticipated, but the sheer force of the blow, jerking her forward in the chains, took her completely by surprise. Maude paused to look briefly at the mark she had left, and to wait for the immediate effects to subside, before administering the second blow. This time she was a little less accurate, and the strands of the whip curled round to catch the edge of Sally's right breast and causing her body to twist as far as it could which, given the nature of the restraints, was not much. Already wondering how she could possibly stand another four lashes like the first two, she struggled to keep her attention on Mikaela, who was now shamelessly masturbating. That helped a bit, along with the simple fact that she had no choice. The remaining strokes fell fairly evenly down her back, and with no more "overshoots" into more sensitive areas, she found it bearable.

When it was over Maude came round into view, and her partner rose from her chair for a long, passionate kiss. There was thus a break of a few minutes, while the worst of the pain subsided and a raw, burning sensation replaced it, rather as if she was standing much too close to a radiator. She was developing very mixed feelings about the experience. She had to admit to herself that, whatever her fantasies had told her, being whipped hurt like hell and was to be avoided as much as possible. On the other hand the situation- that she was stretched out helpless with two gorgeous women who owned her and would use her in any way that gave them pleasure- was so intensely erotic that she soon felt her liquids oozing down her leg.

Maude and Mikaela were so absorbed in one another that there seemed to be a real possibility that the remainder of the punishment would be forgotten. It was not to be, however. Eventually the latter broke free.

"Enough, my dearest. I still have my duty to perform."

Coming up to Sally, she felt between her legs and slipped two fingers into her slit.

"I'm not sure that the whip was much of a punishment. Let's see if the cane makes any more of an impression."

With that she disappeared behind, and Maude took her place on the chair, settled to her own task, and nodded. The cane struck home, with most of the force falling on the right buttock. She struck twice more, each time a little lower, before pausing to inspect the result. To the recipient, who was no longer trying to avoid crying out with each blow and moaning continuously between, the searing pain was more severe, but more localized than that inflicted by the whip, with its multiple strands that seemed to have minds of their own. The problem was that it was also to a degree cumulative, with each stroke reviving and adding to the stinging left by its predecessor. The interruption was therefore doubly welcome, though she knew it was prolonging the ordeal.

Mikaela looked carefully at the three stripes that crossed the previously pristine globe of flesh. Each mark was reddish-purple in the centre, fading to a rosy pink towards the ends, where it merged into the general deep flush that suffused the whole buttock. On the left, faint continuation lines could be seen, and the inner half was also quite pink. Satisfied, she stepped back and further to Sally's left, almost behind the post on that side, and aimed the final three strokes at the left rump.

When the last blow had struck home, Mikaela simply dropped the cane, went over to Maude and reached down to seize the hand with which she was now rubbing herself hard, and pulled her over to the window sofa. There the two had frantic sex, as if desperate to exploit the excitement of the flogging before it began to subside. Sally's view was limited by the back. One heaving bottom, and sometimes one or two arms or legs, were in her line of sight. She became conscious of a growing ache in her arms and wrists, and realised that she was virtually hanging from them, having relaxed her leg muscles during the beating, and she did her best to push down with them. It helped, but it was a relief when her mistresses finished their copulation and reappeared before her.

She was not, however, to be released immediately. Maude, whose head height roughly matched hers while she was chained in that position, began kissing her, while Mikaela went around and reached under to her sex, pushing fingers deep inside. The stimulation transformed what Sally was feeling; the residual stinging from the cane and the lash became a warm glow that flooded her entire being. Her body, now hanging again, moved in little waves, struggling to maximise contact with the two points of contact. They allowed her just one climax, before putting the blocks back under her feet and standing behind her to admire their work dispassionately.

"She marks rather easily," said Maude, "and these'll take a few days to fade away. If the strokes overlapped it would probably break the skin. We wouldn't be able to flog her very often, and we'd have to limit it to about a dozen of each."

"There are other places," replied Mikaela. "We can use her upper thighs, inside and outside, and there's always the soles of her feet. She might just learn to behave herself, of course, but it's probably a good idea to keep some marks on a slave at all times. We should spray her now."

Sally felt an icy blast on her back and rump as they used an antiseptic and healing aerosol on her, and then they took her down, locking her wrists in front and by a chain to her ankles. They ungagged her, sat her on the sofa, and supplied her with a glass of orange juice, after which she shuffled off to the toilet. When she returned they all lay together on the sofa, Sally sandwiched between the other two. At the back, Mikaela dropped off to sleep almost immediately, snoring gently while Maude kissed and caressed Sally tenderly for a few minutes, until soon all three were quiet.

Mikaela was the first to wake up, and she disturbed the other sleeping beauties in the process of extricating herself from the tangle of arms and legs.

"One of us has to go for dinner," she replied to Maude's grumbles. "We need one or two things from the Spar, so I'll be a little while. Be ready to eat at about six?"

There was no coherent response, but when she was dressed and gone Maude bestirred herself enough to push her right nipple into Sally's mouth. After a few minutes of sucking she replaced it with the left, and then with her tongue. Finally: "You must be ready for your dinner, after such a meagre lunch. Would you like my pussy for a starter?"

"Oh yes please, mistress."

And so Maude mounted her, kneeling and facing her feet, and took her pleasure. After the first two climaxes she turned round for two more, and finally flopped as if intending to go back to sleep. After a little while, however, she declared that duty called, and went off to lay the kitchen table. Sally was left to rest, still feeling an afterglow from her back and rump, and wondering how she would have felt after a dozen from each mistress.

In due course Mikaela returned with donner kebabs, generously packed with a separate bottle of chilli sauce, and several bottles of Australian red. Sally was able to feed herself provided that she either bent low over the table, or drew her legs up as far as she could. It being the last meal of the weekend, the talk inevitably turned to the future. Maude was anxious to make it clear that while nothing was taken for granted, they would be expecting a decision from Sally quite soon.

"Tomorrow morning I'll free you and take you back to your car. I'll be going on to the university, but the students have a revision week before the exams, so as an associate student the class is over for you. You must not contact me by any means for a full twenty-four hours after I leave you. You have that time, and a further twenty-four hours if you need it, to consider whether or not you want a future with us."

At this point Sally tried to interrupt, but Maude held up a hand and continued. "No, you must not say a word on the subject till the twenty-four hours, at least, are up. Then, if I don't hear from you after forty-eight hours, neither of us will ever trouble you again. If, however, you do want to continue with us, send me an email. Is that clear so far?"

"Yes, mistress."

"In your message you should clearly give a time period- weeks or months- for your submission. You can also state, if you want, an average number of days per week- or other period- that you commit to us. You may also state any changes to the conditions that we agreed before this weekend. But think carefully about these decisions; they are irrevocable, and if we don't think that you are offering what we need, we say no, and that will be the end of it. There will be no negotiations; we won't put any kind of pressure on you. Is everything still clear?"

"Yes, mistress." Sally felt that the threat of outright rejection was quite a lot of pressure, but she knew better than to say so. There was no more discussion of the future; ice cream, advocaat and caramel sauce was provided for dessert, after which coffee was taken in the living room. When that was finished, and Sally been taken to the bathroom to see to the usual offices, the new equipment was brought out to be tried.

The chastity belt was meant to fit a range of sizes, and had a waist band of wide, thick leather that fastened in front with a locking buckle. Permanently rivetted to the back, the crotch piece was moulded to fit as snugly as was possible with a "one size fits most" unit, and a number of slots allowed adjustment as it hooked over the loop of the waist strap buckle. The belt could thus be locked on to the wearer with just one padlock, and there was nothing protruding at the back to dig into her flesh, though the rivets would leave small marks.

The crotch piece had two bayonet sockets on the inside, the metal parts shielded with rubber pads. They did not, on this occasion, fit the purpose-made anal plug, but they did use the dildo, suitably lubricated. Modelled in black rubber on a full-sized and erect male member, it slid deep into her as the strap was tightened and locked in place. The vaginal socket was a double one with the outward side angled upwards, and when they fitted the second dildo- a very similar one to the first, but pink flesh coloured- it pointed out and slightly up, like a real one.

Satisfied with the chastity belt, the two mistresses turned to the gag. The full head harness required two padlocks, and a third for an extra strap that anchored the whole assembly to the back of Sally's collar, for extra security. The thick leather pad that covered the mouth had inner and outer sockets with screw threads, into which could be fitted a range of optional extras.

To go inside they picked a short, stout latex insert, shaped exactly like the last two-and-a-half inches of a penis. It was stiff but not hard or rigid, so it responded slightly to the probing of Sally's tongue as she instinctively explored its shape. Outside, they fitted a full-sized dildo very like the one lower down. Both had a thin tube down their lengths, allowing at least laboured breathing through the mouth, though it could also be used to introduce liquids. finally they removed the wrists-to ankles chain, and stretched her out on the long sofa, anchoring her to each end.

Maude and Mikaela then enjoyed a prolonged session on the dildos, changing positions every few minutes. There were many variations to work through: each did the cowgirl and the reverse cowgirl on both top and bottom dildos, and each position allowed them to interact in different ways, kissing mouth-to-mouth when facing, or grasping and kneading one another's breasts from behind when riding in tandem.

When back to back they concentrated solely on their own needs and, surprisingly perhaps, it was thus that they both climaxed, within a minute of each other. Maude, at the mouth end, then dismounted and, while Mikaela carried on to a second orgasm, quietly fed Sally with some wine with a tube though the dildo gag, using what looked like a modified baby's bottle. When Mikaela had finished, they left her alone, as she was, to rest for half an hour.

Sally was frustrated. Although the internal dildo, constantly moving as her mistresses used its outer counterpart, had stimulated her, the repeated interruptions as they changed places had prevented her from progressing smoothly towards release. Now she tried to keep herself aroused by clenching and unclenching her thighs, but with limited results. The gag made it harder to concentrate; it too had moved a little in her mouth, while the scent of their vaginas had filled her nostrils. Now they had left her, and her tongue continued to explore the very realistic penis shape of the insert.

She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be used in bondage by two real cocks; perhaps to be blindfolded so as not to know the identity of their owners. Why hadn't they put the third plug in her? Presumably she was too tight to take it. When she came back (and she was sure that she would) they would doubtless continue her anal training. Would they ever give her to men, perhaps to sit fondling one another while she was gang-banged? Would she ever be turned on by vanilla sex again?

When Maude and Mikaela came back, armed with more equipment, they found their slave writhing in her bonds and soaked in sweat. "Be still, girl," snapped the former, "you must learn to stop wanking every time we turn our backs for a second."

With an effort, and a little moan of distress, Sally stopped moving and lay trembling slightly. She moaned more loudly as Mikaela fitted clamps to her nipples; the sort that were like little pincers, with a thumb screw to limit their tightness. She set them to pinch quite hard, and the mouth-dildo was still shaking in protest as she mounted its lower counterpart, adopting a kneeling position. As she began to work it she leant forward and took the upper one in her own mouth, splaying her knees wide to keep full contact with the other.

The position limited her up-and-down movement somewhat, but the main source of friction was coming from another source. Maude had lubricated a long but fairly thin dildo, and now proceeded to push it into her lover's exposed back passage, moving it in and out with increasing speed and firmness. Effectively gang-banged, she now became very excited very quickly, and came within three or four minutes. She gave herself time to wind down, and then she and Maude simply changed places, and the procedure was repeated.

For Sally the constant pounding on her pelvis was exhausting and increasingly painful. She might have derived some excitement from watching the anal penetration of her mistresses, but the truth was that she couldn't see it from her vantage point and was unaware that it was happening. For all her aches and pains she was still aroused from the slight movements of the intruder in her pussy, but she could only lie there and hope that they would have mercy on her.

That did seem to be part of the plan, for as soon as they got their breath back they undid her ankles and locked them to the ends of a three-foot spreader bar. They took off the chastity belt, pulling out the insert very carefully, with a distinct sucking noise. Mikaela then lifted the bar up and forward, right over her head, so that both her holes were pointing upwards. Maud took a large vibrator and thrust it right into her gaping sex, and pushed another, finger-sized one, into her back passage. She worked them both in and out, moving them together rather than alternately, while Mikaela held the bar still rather casually, with one hand.

Despite the increasing volume and urgency of the moans coming from the gagged mouth, the explosion took them by surprise. With Sally's body bent as it was, most of the muscular effort in her spasm went into an attempt to straighten. Mikaela lost her grip on the bar as it shot upwards, and Maude had to duck as it came forward and down, and found herself kneeling in triangle formed by Sally's legs and the bar as they dropped onto the sofa. Although she had let go of the vibrators, she was able to reach down and grab them as they slipped out, ramming them back in as far as they would go. Sally's body continued to shake, the bar being pulled back hard against Maude's lower back, but she hung on until it was finally over.

"Wow, that was one of her biggest yet," she said with some relief as she drew the dildos out and switched them off. "If we do that again we'll have to find a way of tying the bar in place. It can probably be done by putting chains between her knees and shoulders."

"Doubtless we can find a suitable illustration on the 'net," replied Maude, and with that they started to remove the bar and gag. Sally was sent to the toilet, and on her return was left with her hands locked in front, chained to her ankles so that she could sit comfortably with them in her lap. Wine was provided for everyone. It was still quite early in the evening, but the two mistresses seemed content to relax in front of the television, with Maude shuffling rather half-heartedly through some academic papers. Mikaela soon nodded off.

The final night of the weekend was rather different to the others. Mikaela, pleading an early start to a busy day tomorrow, went to her own bed, and Maude took Sally to hers, locking her wrists by a short chain to the bedhead but leaving her otherwise unrestrained. There was lovemaking at bedtime, in the middle of the night, and in the morning, after which Sally's ankles were hobbled, her hands were locked behind her, and she was taken to be showered and oiled. Maude then took her downstairs still naked, and fed her breakfast. As she sipped her coffee through a straw, Maude sat back to speak to her.

"If you like, you can comment on the weekend, but you must not say anything that indicates whether or not you might want to come back."

Sally thought for a minute. "I wouldn't want to change any of it, mistress, not even the whipping. It hurt, but I've come to feel so secure with the feeling of being under your control. I'm afraid I'm expressing that a bit clumsily, mistress. The one thing that does worry me a little, mistress, is whether Mistress Mikaela really likes me as you seem to do. She's never really spoken to me, and she hardly ever kisses me properly, mistress."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Mikaela and I are very different; she needs time to get to know people. She's been let down before."

That was that. Soon it was time to go to the garage, and for Sally to be released and dressed. Maude ushered her into the bedroom of the camper, and drove back to the tea room. Her final words, as her possibly ex-slave emerged blinking into the light, were: "Remember; twenty-four hours. It's eleven-thirty now."

Decision Time

Freedom seemed strange to Sally. She had to wear clothes and control all her arms and legs. She had to make small plans; what to have for lunch, for instance. For want of anything else to do she drove home, having to shift uneasily in her seat and sit bolt upright because of the soreness in her back and bottom. She knew she had enough food, milk etc. to last her for two or three days, and she didn't want to go shopping in her charity shop dress.

Once safely re-established in her little home she made herself a sandwich for lunch, and tried to relax with a book. That was impossible, so she changed into a shirt and trousers, and went up to Anglezarke and followed the nature trail. It was a pleasant walk but not long enough, so she moved the car nearer to White Coppice and climbed Healy Nab, enjoying the view across Chorley and the Lancashire Plain. Feeling tired then, she returned home and dozed on her sofa until it was time to heat up a frozen curry for her dinner.

Until the evening, she was just marking time; it had not occurred to her that she should be thinking about her future. Still restless, taking a gentle stroll down to the canal and back along the River Croal, she managed to focus her mind on the decision she was supposed to be making. It was very much a token effort. The thought of returning to life before slavery, with all its uncertainties and its general aimlessness, was too depressing. At such a young age, it was unbearable to contemplate a life in which she might never achieve complete sexual fulfilment.

There was a negative side, certainly. She had no idea how much whipping and caning she would have to endure, or how much time she'd have to spend frustrated while her owners used her and gave nothing in return. Questions about who they might share her with, and whether she'd be allowed sexual contact with men, remained unasked, let alone answered. She had some concerns about Mikaela's attitude to the arrangement. But it was still no contest. Sitting on a bench by the Lancashire-Leeds Canal, watching an old lady walking her Yorkshire Terrier along the towpath, she made the final and irrevocable decision to surrender herself to Maude and Mikaela, and to accept all the implications and consequences of that. She felt much calmer when she went home, and after a few glasses of wine, she enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep.

Sally was up and about by nine o'clock, and had most of the morning ahead of her. She chose to do some spring cleaning, thinking that she was likely to be leaving for some time, and wanting to leave the house in good order. By ten-thirty she had vacuumed, dusted, and changed her bed, and she settled at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee to check her bank and savings accounts, and to make sure there were no outstanding bills. She had only just changed from paying her rates annually to using a direct debit, so she checked that the first payment had gone out on schedule. At eleven fifteen, she moved to her desk and prepared her email to Maude.

Mistress Maude; I have decided to return to your service. Respectfully, Sally.

She had not been told how to word it, but thought her message was clear without being too revealing, should it be read by the wrong person. She had ignored the instructions about giving time limits, etc. She hoped that they would understand that she was giving herself to them without any limitations or qualifications. Now she just had to wait for the twenty-four hours to be completed; the classic "watched pot" scenario. Never in her life had she been so fidgety.

On the desk where she kept her laptop Sally had a radio controlled clock. At the moment the minute display changed from "29" to "30" she sent the message; one keystroke that would change her future. A feeling of relief washed over her; that part of the decision now out of her hands. What would happen next? For a minute or two she stared at the screen as if willing it to produce an answer, then she reluctantly got up and headed for the kitchen. She was filling the kettle when the "ping" sounded.

Can you come to the tea room this afternoon at 3 o'clock?

Yes, mistress.

Be free for the rest of the day. Have plenty of fuel. Ask for me by name at the tea room.

Yes, mistress.

With a couple of hours to kill, Sally did some work on a couple of charity-shop dresses, trying to keep her stitching inconspicuous. With no instructions for the afternoon, and fine weather having returned, she laid out a plain white cotton summer dress with a short flared skirt, and checked that it needed no repairs. It was a few years old; she had bought it in her late teens but then rejected it as too "girlish." Lunch was a ham and cheese salad with no dressing. She was anxious to keep her weight stable, and when due to meet her mistress, her breath free of food smells.

She left at two o'clock, filled up with diesel (please don't let me use the wrong pump) and had ten minutes to kill at the picnic centre. At the tea room there was no sign of either of Maude's vehicles but the garage was closed, and she went in. She was met by a delightful blond girl with a bobbed haircut and a round, smiling face, who immediately showed her to an upstairs room where Maude was sitting at a little table by a window that afforded a lovely view of the lake. The kissed chastely, cheek-to-cheek in the French style, and Sally sat down carefully, glad of the needlepoint cushion on the chair. There was still a trace of soreness in her bottom. She looked round as the blond left, admiring the pretty little room in which there were only three tables.

"We have it to ourselves; just be careful when the waitress might be in earshot," said Maude. "We've got lots and lots of time: you're taking me to the airport for eight o'clock. I thought we'd have a lot to talk about. I've ordered us a high tea for four o'clock."

"You're going away, mistress?"

"Newark, New Jersey, for a symposium over the weekend. Then I'll spend a day shopping in New York and fly back on Tuesday. You can pick me up on Tuesday evening."

"Thank you, mistress."

"I wanted to go knowing that everything was settled. There is quite a lot of stuff that we need to order, and Mikaela can be taking care of some of that. There are some good places in New York, too."

Sally was disappointed to realise that the next weekend would not be a repetition of the last, but the thought of all that "stuff" was exciting. Maude was getting to the root of the matter, and paused to refill her teacup and, perhaps, to hide a trace of nervousness.

"Your message was incomplete. We'll have to punish you for that. Now we need to discuss the question of limitations. Do you want to make any changes?"

Sally took a deep breath. She had expected the question and had decided on her answer, but it did feel different with her mistress there, sitting waiting.

"There are no limitations, mistress. I had nothing to say in my message."

Maude was taken by surprise, and had just opened her mouth to reply when Smiling Blonde came in to offer fresh hot water. She was dismissed with a shake of the head.

"That is good to hear. Can you say why you made that decision?"

"During the weekend, mistress, some things hurt and some things made me uncomfortable, but their real effect was to make me feel more secure, more fully owned. I need to give myself to you completely, unconditionally. I don't think you'll really harm me, but I have to trust you.

"It's a good decision. You will be our most treasured possession, and the most thoroughly used. Now we have to decide the term."

"The term, mistress?"

"How long our agreement will last. There has to be a limit, even if you feel certain that you'll want to renew. You'll be released again for a full day, to make a free decision. We thought you might agree to three months, or even six?"

"What about 363 days?" asked Sally. "Then we'll be back here for tea on our anniversary, mistress."

"I think you're making me an offer that I can't refuse. We have a few more things to settle, but perhaps before tea is ready we might put my things into your car."

Sally was glad to get off her bottom for a few minutes, and happily carried the small case from the hall downstairs to her car. Maude also gave her a canvas bag, fastened shut with a combination lock, to keep in her house. Back inside, the blonde was beginning to set the table for their high tea, and they had to be discreet. Maude revealed that a research fellowship would relieve her of teaching for the next academic year. She would actually have to do more work, but her hours would be much more flexible. She would, unfortunately, have to spend at least three weeks in Seattle, where some indispensable papers were kept.

Soon a trolley full of food was being put out, and Sally found her eyes drawn to the waitress, whose good humour was unquenchable. She was conventionally dressed in a straight black skirt and a short sleeved low cut blouse, but as she leant over the table it was obvious that she wore no bra to support her pert, medium-sized breasts, which were quite conical in shape.

As she put the food on the table something caught Sally's eye. On the left wrist a watch made it difficult to see, but on the right it was clearly visible. though she might not have noticed it a week ago. The texture of the marks was unmistakeable; the smiling girl had been bound with rope. Maude had seen it too, she realized, and was tapping something on an iPhone. When the coast was clear she shrugged expressively.

"No idea. Mikaela won't know either; she was hired by the other waitress to help on busy afternoons, but I don't think she's the one."

"It could be anyone, anywhere, mistress."

"No, it couldn't. On young skin like hers- and yours- marks disappear quickly. They were very even: they're not a remnant of an old, clumsy tie. She was bound this morning, not far from here, and probably only released in time to come to work. I think she was ordered not to hide the marks. We'll get to the bottom of it easily enough."

The meal comprised half a big lobster each, with bowls of shrimps, prawns and crabmeat. There was a salad with avocados, lardons and croutons, and a choice of dressings. A potato salad, made with new potatoes, was provided, along with a crusty wholemeal loaf.

"It's pretty much ham butties downstairs," was Maude's comment. "It pays to be sleeping with the owner." She went on, between mouthfuls, to discuss more personal matters. Sally must provide them with keys to her house. It would remain hers, but it would be regarded, for the duration, as a slave cabin, and they would pay for its upkeep. Although they would not be able to keep her in custody 24/7, it would be impossible for her to have a conventional job.

Their suggestion was that she should keep diaries of her experiences, thoroughly anonymised (they would check everything she wrote), and publish them as e-books. Sally thought that an excellent idea. Did she have any holiday plans? No? She mustn't make any without prior permission. She could spend the odd night with relatives and established friends, but should give her owners as much notice as possible. She should avoid social gatherings that might lead to sexual contact. If, for example, it was impossible to avoid attending a party, she should go early and leave early. She should always tell them, preferably in advance, if she was not home by ten pm. They would soon have the means to know. Sally felt her unwanted freedom slipping away, replaced by warmth, security, and a dampness that made her wonder if she should have worn panties.

There were more practical matters, too. Did she have regular periods? No, they had stopped when she had her implant. She should be sure to keep it up to date. Did she have a proper deep freeze? Yes. She should keep a good stock of good ready-meals; see to that asap. Did she have a double bed? Yes, and a single in the spare room. Did she have nosy neighbours? No, the house was apart from the others on the street, and she hardly knew them. This went on while they ate strawberries and cream for dessert, and finished with coffee.

It was still only five o'clock, so Maude decreed a walk. They set out along the waterside, but in the opposite direction to the previous outing. After five minutes at a brisk pace they reached a point at which the public footpath turned sharp right towards the road. Ahead was a tall gate with a keypad in a tall, wire-reinforced hedge, and Maude tapped in the combination and led the way through.

"This is Mikaela's garden. She owns a bit of the lakeside. It added at least £100,000 to the price of the house, but it was probably a good investment."

Mikaela's share of the shore was completely private, provided one kept well to the left end, where tall reeds hid the sloping lawn from the lake itself. It was a beautiful spot; the grassy bank being bordered by a half-circle of trees and shrubs that led Sally to hope for another visit later in the spring, when they would all be in flower. A few yards from the shore, on a flattened patch of ground, was a little wooden shelter with a cushioned bench inside. There they sat, shoulder to shoulder, with Sally, and probably her mistress also, giving silent thanks for the good fortune that brought them to such places.

"I'll miss you this weekend, mistress," she ventured, and by way of reply got a kiss on the forehead. She raised her face to offer her lips, but Maude drew back a little, though still smiling warmly.

"You need to know that Mikaela and I have made an agreement that we will never break. Neither of us will have any intimate contact with you without you being securely restrained. That's to make sure that our relationship with you is completely and obviously different from our relationship with one another, and you can never come between us. Now, stand up and cross your hands behind your back."

She had brought a length of thin but soft cord from a pocket, and with a series of horizontal and vertical windings, quickly tied them together. She pulled down the zip at the back of Sally's dress and brought the garment down off her shoulders, exposing her bra, which she undid.

"Set my people free," she said quietly, reaching down to release the objects of her desire from their slackened supports. Then she turned her round and kissed her properly. Their lips did not part as they sank back onto the bench, or for a good ten minutes more. During that time her right hand was in Sally's hair, holding her in place, while the left- or three fingers of it- found their own warm hiding place. Then she moved from Sally's mouth to her breasts, sucking one teat and rolling the other between thumb and forefinger.

That was decisive. When Mikaela had whipped them the previous Saturday the soreness had soon passed, but the sense of exposure and vulnerability- of them being totally at the disposal of her mistresses- was enduring. In less than five more minutes Maude was hanging on as the vaginal walls clamped again and again on her fingers, and the breast tried to break free of her sucking lips. She made it last as long as she could, and after she had made her still panting slave lick her fingers clean, their mouths docked again. Another ten minutes, and Sally was pushed to her knees. Maude hastily discarded her slacks and panties, sat down, and pulled her in.

Afterwards they went back to kissing. Every so often Maude would pull away and sit quietly for a while, only to be drawn back, as if compelled to drink her fill before four days of enforced abstinence. When at last she had to acknowledge that time had run out she remarked: "When I have you at home again I'm going to make you snog me for an hour without losing contact once. Perhaps it'll cure me of my addiction."

"I hope not, mistress."

"So do I, but I'll probably just want two hours next time. Anyway, kindly adjust your dress before leaving."

She pushed Sally's boobs back into their bra cups and re-fastened the strap, and zipped up the dress. After smoothing out her own rather rumpled clothing and hair, she untied her wrists and handed her the cord.

"You'd better take this home with you. They might wonder about it at airport security. They won't like these either, but you can wear them all the time now. Hold your dress right up above your middle."

Sally did so, and she put a waist chain on her, using a small combination padlock.

"Keep the lock at the front, and the spare length hangs neatly. If you need to go to the doctor or anything like that, we can email you the combination, and it can be changed afterwards."

As they walked back to the tea rooms, Maude picked up one of Sally's hands and looked at the wrist.

"You can see that these marks show signs of crossing, because I crossed your wrists. Blondie's were parallel, she was probably tied with her wrists pointing downwards, next to one another. They were also very even, so she didn't struggle much. Either she accepted it willingly or she was resigned to it; her demeanour suggests the former. I've emailed Mikaela about it."

Soon they were in the car, speeding down the M61. Sally ventured to start a conversation. "May I ask a question, mistress? What is your symposium about?"

"The damsel-in-distress in feminist literature is the official title. I'm giving a short work-in-progress paper that I'm calling The Submissive Feminist. It's an argument that any really free choices made by women should be recognised as 'feminist,' even, for instance, a decision to become a sex-slave, even to a man. Of course I'm only talking about characters in novels in my paper, but in time I hope for a more general acceptance. Perhaps one day master/mistress- slave relationships will be celebrated as a kind of marriage."

Sally was forming a mental picture of herself shuffling up the aisle naked and in chains, perhaps urged on with a whip.

"I don't think The Guardian will support the idea, mistress."

"No, it's probably never going to be the new political correctness. We'd have a better chance of finding a remote island where we'd be free of interference."

"There isn't anywhere in the world that isn't in somebody's jurisdiction, mistress; The Lost World is not going to be found now."

"Money talks," was the cryptic reply.

They fell silent, with Maude checking her tickets and passport, and counting a wad of US dollars left over from previous trips. They soon arrived at the airport, and she told Sally to drop her at the terminal. "It's not worth you coming in. One last word: Mikaela will be in touch. Keep an eye on your emails. See you Tuesday; I'll email you about that."

With that she left the car, took her bag from the boot, and disappeared into the terminal. It took Sally a full hour to get home, largely because of a lane closure on the Barton Bridge. She was physically and emotionally drained, and could think of nothing more than a relaxing hour with a glass of wine and an early night. Before the latter she checked for messages, and found one.

Had a message from Mikaela while in the departure lounge. She has free time this weekend and wants to get a lot done. Don't make plans for the evening. Include extra toothbrushes etc in your shopping.

Maude x

She quickly replied;

Thank you mistress. I have no plans but shopping.

She was in bed by ten, very conscious at first of the chain locked around her waist. The absence of other restraints seemed to focus her attention on it. The spare length- well over a foot- had a mind of its own, seeking out her privates with an uncanny persistence. Nevertheless she fell asleep quickly and knew nothing more until ten o'clock the following morning. She had never before spent so long in bed.

Six days of constant stimulation had left her empty. She would not have missed a second of it, but she needed more stamina. With some reluctance she dragged herself out of bed, and after breakfast she went out shopping. From Tesco's she bought a substantial stock of "finest" meals and other essentials, including two dozen assorted bottles of wine, cereals, milk, coffee and toiletries. She pondered a little over the "etc", but settled for enough supplies for her downstairs loo as well as the bathroom.

She wondered why she had been told to buy extra food. Surely they were not going to use her little house as a base for their activities? Perhaps they were going to forbid her to go out for periods of time? At least, with the household expenses taken care of she didn't have to worry about the grocery bills. Back home, she packed the freezer, ate some lunch and did another hour's housework. If Mikaela was going to pay a visit she wanted the place presentable. The effort exhausted her, and she was still feeling a little down, and disappointed by the lack of messages. She went back to bed for the rest of the afternoon.

For dinner she contented herself with an omelette and some salad. Her mistresses fed her liberally but would obviously want her to keep her figure. For the same reason she went cycling afterwards, forcing herself to do about fifteen miles, though she broke it for a gentle stroll by a reservoir that was one of her favourite places. When she came home there were still no new messages, and she was in bed by ten again.

The next day- Friday- she felt much better, and spent much of the morning cleaning and tidying the bathroom and downstairs loo. She decided to revisit the charity shops in Chorley, with lunch in Morrison's cafeteria and a little more grocery shopping. Coming back at three o'clock laden with bags, she unpacked and made coffee before checking for messages. One had arrived an hour before, from Mikaela.

Can you be in this evening? I need to take some measurements and look at your house.

I will be here, mistress.

There was a frustrating wait, before the next message arrived at about four.

I will be on the train that arrives at 7.07. I will want something to eat; a curry would be nice. I'll be staying the night. Open the bag that Maude gave you. The combination is 9631. Another message in ten minutes.

Sally did as she was told and found, as she expected, a small selection of bondage equipment. It included a pair of police handcuffs, a set of leather cuffs with a collar, and some lengths of light chain and rope. There was a leather whip with five braided tails, a pair of crocodile nipple clamps linked by a chain, a blindfold and a ball gag with a holding strap. A leather pouch contained a number of identical padlocks and a neat little pair of thumb cuffs. There were no keys anywhere in the bag. Sally had just given up looking for them when the next "ping" sounded. The content of the message made her knees wobble.

Eat early and do your business. Before I arrive, close all the curtains and unlock the front door., strip and handcuff yourself in front. The keyholes should face your hands, with the little knobs at the top. Take care not to overtighten them; there's no going back. When they are a snug fit, push the knobs down. That prevents them from tightening further. Then see to my dinner. I'll expect to find you in the kitchen.

Yes, mistress.

Sally, rather to her own surprise, felt more nervous than she had the previous Friday morning, when she had driven to Green Coppice to deliver herself into Maude's hands. Since then, she realized, she had regarded Maude as her mistress, and Mikaela as Maude's guest and lover. That Maude shared the use of her body she saw as a function of that relationship. Mikaela could be ruthless and impersonal, but Maude was always close at hand. Now, in a different house, with Maude thousands of miles away, she was to submit herself, naked and helpless, to the woman who had used her many times but had never kissed her properly, and never spoken more than a few words to her at a time. What would it be like to be completely under her control? The odd thing was that she had known that it was going to happen since she had driven Maude to the airport, but it had taken the emails to really bring it home to her.

Despite her feelings, the thought of disobeying never entered her head. She did not have very much time. Some of it was used to examine the handcuffs, to make sure that she would be able to put them on quickly and easily. Then she fed herself; a ready-made cottage pie and frozen peas. She reset the table for one as she cleared her own dishes, drank coffee, and relieved herself. She took a quick shower, put on a bathrobe, closed the upstairs curtains, and put fresh linen (again) on her double bed. She only had one usable bed; her spare room was full of boxes and stored furniture. Downstairs, she closed all the curtains but left the patio door blind half open. She took a finest Chicken Jalfrezi from the freezer, unwrapped a nan bread and washed some basmati rice.

It was seven o'clock, and she opened the patio door and listened. After a few minutes she heard the sound that she expected; the distant rattle of a train approaching the station. She had about seven minutes. The most important thing was to keep calm. She closed the door and the blind, switched on the heat under the rice, put the curry in the microwave and started it, and switched on her new halogen oven for the bread. She put jars of mango chutney and lime pickle on the table.

Then she unlocked the front door, took off her robe, and, taking her time, put on the handcuffs. It was a relief to get them right first time; for obvious reasons there had been no trial runs. They felt a little more comfortable than she expected, provided that she didn't pull on them or twist her wrists too much. She went back to the kitchen, turned down the heat under the rice and covered it, and gave the curry a shake. She had a plate ready to warm and wine, orange juice and water ready to pour, so there was nothing left to do but hope that Mikaela had caught the train.

With no idea how to greet her mistress, Sally chose to kneel on the floor, hands on the tiles in front of her. It was not comfortable, but she did not have to stay there for long. The front door opened and closed, and the key turned in the lock. There was a dull thump as a fairly large bag was dropped on the floor, and footsteps approaching. She looked up tentatively, and Mikaela was standing in front of her, smiling broadly.

"OK; get up now and give me my dinner; I'm starving."

It took only three or four minutes to get the food in front of her, although Sally found it awkward and a little scary to drain the rice with her cuffed hands and exposed flesh. Next time, she would buy those ready-prepared and flavoured sachets that could be microwaved in two minutes. All went well, however, and the uncharacteristically affable Mikaela poured two glasses of wine and gestured her to sit opposite. She ate slowly, talking between mouthfuls.

"Maude thinks I don't talk to you enough. I'm not good at small talk, but I know I ought to try. What do you think of the price of fish?"

"I think it's very pricey, mistress."

"Very profound. Do you even know what a fish looks like?"

"Yes, mistress. They are rectangular, about four inches long, and covered in breadcrumbs."

That produced a laugh.

"Well, that wasn't as tedious as I thought it might be, but we don't have a lot of time to waste. I think we should think a bit about your deportment. Why are you sitting like that?"

"I... I don't know, mistress." She had her hands in her lap, and her upper arms were across her breasts. She hadn't thought about the pose; it just came naturally.

"I can hardly see you. Put your hands behind your head, and straighten your back."

She did so, feeling her bust lifted and pushed forward. Despite everything that had happened during the past week, it still went against her instincts to thrust her breasts out so brazenly, not at a lover in bed, but for dispassionate assessment by a fully-clothed woman who was sitting at her kitchen table eating curry and rice. She realized that she was now obeying automatically, knowing what she was doing, but doing it anyway, whatever it was.

"That's much better. Now take a drink."

Sally broke position to pick up her glass and, after taking little sip, put it down and put her arms back in place.

"Good. Now assume the same position that you were in when I arrived, but facing me."

Mikaela indicated the floor about four feet from her chair. Sally knelt on the hard tiles, hands down in front to stabilise the pose, and bowed her head.

"The spirit is willing, but I can't see enough flesh to form an opinion. Lean back on your heels, hands behind your head."

The sense of exposure came flooding back, but there was more to come.

"Knees wide apart."

Sally complied, feeling a breath of cool air on the dampness of her cleft.

"That's right. Have you got any dessert for me?"

"Ice cream and raspberries, mistress? Would you like cream and liqueur with it?"

She would, and as soon as she was tucking in to that, Sally set about making her coffee, still nervous about handling boiling water. Mikaela did not suggest that she make one for herself, but told her to finish her wine. She took her coffee to the living room, beckoned to Sally to follow, sat on the sofa, and pointed to the rug at her feet. Sally resumed her wide-open kneeling position. Clutching her mug, she leant forward and spoke as if giving advice to a child.

"When you display yourself, it's best not to over-think it, or be too subtle. Try to see yourself as four things; a mouth, two tits, and a cunt. The rest of you is a kind of mounting for them, to help you to show them off to best advantage. I know it isn't politically correct, but if that mattered to us we wouldn't be here, would we?"

"No, mistress. Thank you, mistress."

"One of the difficult things is knowing where to look. You shouldn't stare at us, but we want to see your face full on. Try looking slightly to one side, or at our chests. That might be easier with Maude. Keep your lips slack; try to avoid closing them fully or pursing them. You should aim to develop, over time, a slight pout, but it must never look contrived."

"Yes, mistress."

"If you have a few moments to prepare yourself, you can use it to tweak your nipples to get them erect. Anyway, that's enough for now. I'm going to take a look around your house and garden. Is anything locked?"

"The key to the garage is in the lock, mistress, and the shed key is on the little shelf by the patio door."

"I'll go there first, before it gets colder. I'm glad we started this in spring. Winter will bring new problems, but we've got time to prepare. You can sit on the sofa while you wait. Go to the toilet if you need to."

It was a small house; a living room and a big kitchen diner downstairs, with a small study and a loo opening off the back hall that led to the garage. There was only a little vestibule at the front. Upstairs there were just two bedrooms and a bathroom. There was no cellar, but there were two loft spaces for storage. It took Mikaela half an hour to explore; she opened every cupboard, drawer and wardrobe, and made sure that she understood the structure and wiring. She looked for features that could be used as bondage attachment points but found nothing but the post supporting the staircase that rose from the living room. The shed contained a surprisingly comprehensive range of tools, and she went back there to bring in the drill battery and screwdriver, to put them on charge.

When she re-joined Sally she ordered her to her feet, and found the thumb cuffs. "I've got lots of measurements to make. Whether we'll need them all I've no idea, but better too many than too few. You won't need to wear these for long; they don't look very comfortable. This will be boring, but we can chat while I'm doing it.

The cuffs did look unpleasant; the metal was serrated where it gripped the thumbs, to discourage struggling. She put them on, produced a bunch of keys from her pocket, and removed the handcuffs. She then measured Sally's wrists, elbows, upper arms, arm lengths, and neck (length and girth). When that was done she put the leather collar on her and chained it to the stair post, freed her thumbs, cuffed her wrists and locked them together behind her. While she worked she talked.

"It's great that you opted for a full year. It makes it worth getting a really good selection of equipment for you. Maude was expecting three or six months, but I think it'll take weeks just to assess your full potential, and work out how much usage your various parts can take."

"I didn't ask for any time limit, mistress. I don't intend to leave after a year."

"Well, don't think I won't hold you to that."

Mikaela had a diagram of a female body, and a very long list of the measurements required. They included the diameter of Sally's head, the distance between her eyes, and the distance between her eyes and her mouth. She made every possible measurement of and around her breasts; even the nipples, with a little ruler. She paid particular attention to the waist (slipping the tape measure under the chain), hips and upper legs, explaining as she worked.

"Many of these measurements will be used for chastity belts. We want to be able to control you from a distance. You'll be wearing them a lot, and I know of some very good craftsmen who should be able to make some very special ones. Ideally we'd like to have you with us all the time, but in practice it's likely to be three or four days a week. I fear that the ideal of the 24/7/12 sex slave, living her life in chains and kept in a dungeon when not in use, is probably an urban myth. Work, relatives, medical issues etc. all get in the way. But we own you 24/7, and we want to make sure you always know it."

"I'm sure I know it, mistress."

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure that we do either. Learning's going to be a fascinating process. We are, however, all going to learn."

She was now making the most intimate and final measurements. She took a long, fairly slender dildo from her bag, lubricated it, told Sally to stand with her legs apart. She pushed it in until it met firm resistance, withdrew it with fingers right against her flesh, and measured the depth of penetration. Then she used it to gauge the depth to which it could be put in her mouth without obvious discomfort. That completed her list, but she told Sally to turn round.

"There's no sign of the whipmarks at all now. Maude doesn't need to be quite so gentle, but she is very soft-hearted. Now bend right over."

Sally felt hands exploring her buttocks.

"I can still see pink lines across here, but there isn't any ridging. I got it about right; I think it's good for you to carry some marks. Is it sore?"

"Not now, mistress. It was for a couple of days; now I only feel it if I think about it."

"We don't need to bother with this tonight"- poking her anus- "we need a set of graduated plugs for that. Stand up straight; I'm just going to tighten your waist chain by a couple of links. It's not leaving any marks at all at the moment. I'll fix your wrists to it while I'm at it. They look untidy flapping about back here. I'll do your ankles, too."

"Thank you, mistress."

"That's OK. Sit on the sofa and I'll get us some wine. I presume you bought some straws? I want to connect my iPod to your network, too, and look at my messages."

"The straws are by the bottles on the worktop, mistress. The code is on a piece of paper in the drawer under the telephone."

Once settled on the sofa, they drank in silence while Mikaela connected and read her messages. She tapped out replies to a few before speaking again.

"Maude has just read her paper. Says she got heckled by a couple of militant feminists... literally doesn't want to meet them on a dark night... has decided to abandon the conference and spend the weekend in New Brunswick... still coming back on Tuesday. She doesn't say what time."

"I was afraid, mistress, that her views would be unpopular."

"I've tried to persuade her to be a bit less provocative. She's a very moral person. If she thinks it's right she wants to persuade the world. The last thing we need is notoriety. Anyway, I need a wee. Do you?"

"No thank you, mistress."

"Lie down and make yourself comfortable while I'm gone. Maude's been telling me I don't show you enough affection, so I'm going to show you my soft and cuddly side. It's only 9.30; we've got time for a really good long snog. We'll be like two teenagers on our first date."

Sally tried to call her first date to mind. It wasn't very memorable, but as far as she could recall, she had not been naked, in bondage, or with a girl. Apart from that, and the facts that they were not in a cinema and she had already been ravished several times by her companion, she had to admit that it was indeed similar. Mikaela was only gone for five minutes, and came back holding a bottle of baby oil.

"look what I found in your loo! I love this stuff, but Maude doesn't like the scent. This is going to be a real treat."

She put the bottle on the coffee table, and in a few moments had stripped off her own clothes. She lay down alongside Sally, looking at her intently, leant her head towards hers and, for a few seconds, slowly and deliberately rubbed noses with her. Even more slowly, she stuck her tongue out and licked right round her lips. When the circle was complete, she pulled herself closer and allowed their mouths to join. As the two tongues met, Mikaela changed.

Sally, who had never before been kissed properly by her and had found her an impersonal and ruthless user of her body, had only Maude for a comparison. The taller, more buxom woman was a slow and deliberate lover, with maximum contact and friction her principal aim. Her full lips and Sally's would meet like the docking rings of two spaceships, forming an airtight seal.

In contrast, and to Sally's great surprise, close contact turned Mikaela into a bundle of giggling, wriggling fun. With her hands she grabbed Sally's breasts, pulling them together, squeezing them outwards and rubbing her own much less alpine chest against them, striving for nipple contact. She worked her right thigh down and forward into her crotch, forcing her to draw up her locked ankles and reciprocate with her own. Mikaela's mouth and lips were smaller than Sally's, but her work rate made up for any deficit. She nibbled, she sucked, she licked, she probed and explored her slave's mouth, and the latter enjoyed every minute of it.

She could, not, however, escape the conclusion that there was too much going on. A melody from a solo violin can be erotic; a one man band rarely is. Mikaela's lovemaking was more like the latter than the former. Sally did her best to co-operate; with her hands confined as they were she could do little on the central front, and down below she could only twist her hips to achieve the closest possible crotch to thigh connections. Mostly she concentrated on using her mouth and tongue to best effect. Instead of the small adjustments that were needed to maintain contact and friction with Maude's lips, she had to deal with rapid changes. One moment part of her lower lip was being sucked, the next a tongue was tickling the roof of her mouth. When she managed to push her own into Mikaela's mouth, it was nibbled by sharp teeth and she beat a hasty retreat. Pursued deep into her own space she clamped her lips onto the invader and sucked hard, but instead of pulling back Mikaela just allowed herself to be pulled in, until their teeth ground together and Sally was startled into letting go.

With a laugh of pure delight, Mikaela released Sally's breasts, grabbed her head, turned it, swept the hair clear and plunged her tongue deep into her right ear. It was the quickest and most efficient way of reducing her to helpless laughter. It was infectious, and brought about a natural pause and a change of tactics. The kissing became slower, more mutually exploratory. Mikaela slipped her right hand between Sally's legs, and began to work with fingers and thumb, while her left hand toyed more gently; first with one nipple, then the other.

It was a tried and trusted, if unoriginal approach, and a relief to Sally, who was thinking that Mikaela's initially frenetic approach had been the result of a degree of embarrassment. She could now relax, enjoy the softening mouth and the probing fingers, push herself up against them and flex her legs to squeeze them. The outcome was inevitable, with her legs gripping the now grasping hand hard, trying to pull it tighter against her crotch. It was at such moments that she felt her bondage most acutely, when she would otherwise have grabbed the hand to force it against her, and used her other arm to crush Mikaela's body against her breasts. Even before her spasms had fully subsided she was feeling relief that the ice had been broken, and wondering how she would be required to reciprocate.

The answer was not long in coming. She was told- and helped- to turn over, so that she faced the back of her old sofa, and, in a breathless whisper: "Use your fingers."

Sally found that she could just about reach Mikaela's sex. She could manage only rather random scrabbling movements, but her mistress was clearly excited by the bondage and by the occasional intimate contact with the leather cuffs and padlocks. After a few minutes she adjusted her position, kneeling with one leg on Sally's lower body and the other on the sofa. This allowed enough room for manoeuvre for the fingers of one hand to reach deeper, and those of the other to flutter against the clit, though Mikaela had to supply the motion. The quickening pace was enough to indicate that all was going well, although by the time she came Sally's arms ached from pulling up against the chain, which in turn was digging in to her waist. She was quickly turned over, and Mikaela flopped down breathlessly by her side.

"I really, really needed that," she gasped, "and I'll be needing more soon. But now, a glass of wine, I think."

She jumped up and brought over two glasses and a straw, and helped Sally to sit upright alongside her. As they drank, Sally got brave enough to initiate a conversation.

"May I speak, mistress?"

"Please do; we're just two girls getting to know one another tonight."

"Do you mind me asking, mistress, whether you and Mistress Maude have owned other slaves before me? I ask, mistress, because you both know so much about what to do, you have a lot of equipment, and your houses and gardens are so... suitable."

"That is a big question, but Maude told me to answer any questions that you had about our past lives. She's heard too many politicians talking about transparency. Finish your wine and I'll tell you about myself." They both took a few gulps.

"Now lie back against the cushions: I need to massage your tits, so I'll do so while I talk." She poured a generous amount of baby oil into her right hand, and started rubbing it into the left breast.

"I knew I was a lesbian by my early teens, although I've always been able to tolerate an occasional man. By 16 I knew I was into BDSM, but I'm pure dominant: I can't stand anyone tying me up. I often found partners who would play bondage games, and a couple who would take a whipping, but it was always role play, and always short-lived. I knew that one day I would have to look for a proper slave, but I thought it would be risky, and that public exposure very early in my career would ruin me. I needed to be rich first, and rich enough to go on getting richer without a job. That's why I went into banking. My daddy's rich already: when I told him I wanted to be an investment banker he gave me half a million to start me off, and got me a job in Manchester. I was young, determined, and very successful, so I climbed the ladder very quickly. I saved at least three years by not going to university. That's worth at least another half million."

"Does your father know about your preferences, mistress?"

Mikaela had moved onto the other breast. "He knows I'm a lesbian, but not about the BDSM. It's difficult to see how that would come up in conversation. You'll want to know what I did with the first half million. A lot of it went into property; luckily I got it out again before the crunch, and made big profits. But quite a lot of the remainder went into a big share of a small firm, based near Blackpool, that makes and supplies BDSM equipment. It's grown and prospered over the years: I've put money into marketing overseas and product development. Now I'm the majority shareholder, and I take a hands-on approach to its management. I constantly search the Internet for new ideas, and I've made a point of recruiting specialists in areas not usually associated with the industry, such as high-tech plastics, micro-electronics and surveillance. There are spin-offs that have led to profitable contracts with health providers all over the world. We like to think that we represent what is best about the British industries that are leading our recovery: job creation, technical innovation, competitiveness and flexibility."

Sally, whose most recent reading on business affairs had been an article predicting the first quintuple-dip recession, was hoping that the products were more innovative than the presentation. Mikaela was now working on both breasts at once, and she badly needed the conversation to take a more interesting turn.

"Mistress, can I ask, is there a lot of money to be made in bondage equipment?"

"Bags of it. We equip dungeons all over the world. We've taken over a couple of small concerns that make simple products for domestic use, like the cuffs that you like to wear. We probably make more money out of health products, though, and some of our stuff goes to tack shops. A good riding crop speaks a language that both human and equine ponies understand. Incidentally, I'm going to put you on the payroll, as a product tester. It won't be much, but it will be another little income stream. I like to have my money in commodities and services that people need whatever the state of the economy. I have investments in baby goods and undertaking firms, as well as sex and health. I just haven't noticed all these recessions people are always on about. They say that firms can't get credit, but that doesn't apply to investment bankers. You can't expect to get by just making things. I'd always advise vertical diversification; taking positions in capital, services, property, manufacturing and retailing all at the same time. I'm looking at agriculture and land next."

She had left the breasts now and was working on the stomach and thigh areas.

"Are you OK down there? Do you want a drink or a pee?"

"No thank you, mistress, please carry on."

Before she did so, however, Mikaela went upstairs and came back with an armful of white towels; most of Sally's current stock.

"We don't want to get oil all over your lovely sofa, do we? Is it an MFI original?"

"Probably, mistress. It's a bit threadbare, but it fits well in here, being quite small for a three-seater."

"The wooden frame is useful for our purposes, so perhaps we'll get it re-upholstered for you. Get up, and lie on your front on these towels."

She went to work on Sally's buttocks.

"Anyway, all your questions have made me lose my thread. The bondage gear enterprise was more than just a way to make money. I always thought that in the future I could use it as a means of meeting like-minded people. Obviously we have all the addresses to which we have sent anything, and I've spent quite a lot of my spare time analysing the data. Do you want to know what I've been finding out?"

"Yes please, mistress."

"I started with a big map of the UK, and a file of all British orders over the last ten years, including the Isle of Man and the Channel Islands. I put a coloured pin in for each item or group of similar items; different colours for different price ranges. The cheaper items- cuffs, whips, gags and so on, are very widely distributed. There are denser patches that don't coincide with areas of dense population, but without knowing more you probably wouldn't notice them. The mid-range items- stocks, body- binders, chastity devices etc, seemed to cluster more, but there is still nothing really striking. It's still useful information, because we can assume that, in many of the locations that have received a range of goods there is a serious dominant- not somebody just playing games- and some of them will be actual slave-owners.

"But the most expensive items and accessories for them yielded the most interesting results. We make some things that have four- figure prices; heavy-duty cages, racks, motorised spits, adjustable frames etc. Some are standard designs made to order, and some are custom made. I excluded, incidentally, orders from known brothels and dungeons-for-rent. This kind of equipment goes mainly to quite distinct clusters, one in Norfolk, one in North Devon, for instance. There are nine in all, not all on the mainland, but the one that interested me most centres on a little village between Bolton and Darwen. That doesn't mean that the village itself is significant, of course. It's just in the middle of the cluster. I made a special study of what I called the "Moors Group."

"What did you find out, mistress?" Sally was able to concentrate more now that Mikaela was working on her upper back and shoulders.

"They have about thirty thousand pounds worth of equipment, and bear in mind that we're not the only supplier of such things. What is more enlightening, though, is that there are hardly any addresses that receive more than one such item. Even more interesting, some addresses bought accessories that are no use on their own. One bought a heavy iron cage that opens at the front and the top. Another bought an extra front door for it; one with a neck ring incorporated to hold the occupant in a kneeling position with the head outside. Another bought a top door with neck and wrist stocks. Yet another bought a quilted leather cover that we make that renders the cage sound and light proof. What does this mean to you?"

"It's a club, mistress. Either they all buy equipment and lend it to one another, or they have a central facility and are trying to conceal its location, or they have a 'library' of gear from which they all borrow."

"I hadn't thought of the library idea. I wonder if they would keep slaves in the library, or each have their own? Anyway, there's no doubt that some kind of organisation exists there. I originally intended to try to make contact with it, but then Maude acquired you, and the urgency has gone now."

"May I ask, mistress, how long you've been with Mistress Maude?" The massaging hands were on her neck now.

"Two years. That didn't change things as much as you might think. We were completely honest about what we needed. We wanted to be together, but we're both dominant. I won't be tied up at all, as I told you. She quite likes it as a game, and we've had lots of fun that way, but she couldn't be my slave. Your appearance is a godsend for both of us. We always knew that it would take someone else to make our little family complete."

"Mistress, I find it difficult to imagine Mistress Maude tied up."

"You have quite a few surprises in store for you, I don't think you'll have to wait long to do the goldfish with her."

"The goldfish, mistress?"

"Didn't your mother teach you the facts of life? It's two people trying to have sex with their hands tied behind their backs."

"How can a mistress be tied up with her slave, mistress? It seems very confusing."

"You have to remember that she can do anything she likes as far as you're concerned. You're no less her slave because she decides to play at being one. I'll borrow her analogy: if you have a tug of war with your dog and he wins, he is still your dog. Remember also that the word 'slave' describes what you are, not what you do. You are a slave; Maude and I are free. No amount of rope can change that."

"No mistress. I understand now, mistress." The hands were moving back towards her bottom.

"Good. I just wanted to mention that girl with the ropemarks who you saw at the tearoom. Her name's Melissa and she came to my regular waitress- Emily- asking for part-time work. She's willing and good with the customers, but very self-effacing and not particularly clever. Her address is a rented room over the hairdresser's, only a hundred yards away. That's all we know about her, but there's a man in the village who is on the customers list. His address is a big house on the edge of the woods at the south side, with a very private garden. I've never seen him. He buys small stuff from us, but he does have a complete set of irons."

"Melissa had been tied with rope, mistress."

"A lot of people like to use rope; it has a special fascination and it offers more of a challenge. I have to say that I like the marks that it makes, though I do need to practice my technique. Anyway, we'll get to the truth of the matter in due course."

"Aaah, mistress, yes!"

The irrelevance of the answer was the result of Mikaela's fingers just having entered her sex. More noises, even less meaningful, followed, as they moved in and out with increasing speed and vigour. Face down and with her hands locked behind, Sally had no means of pushing back against them, but she kept making scissor movements with her legs to vary the tightness of her opening. She was getting better, also, at using the muscles in her vaginal walls to increase her pleasure; this was a resource that no severity of bondage could take away from her.

Soon she was shaking in waves that passed up and down the length of her body, as her climax sought any path that was not blocked by her restraints. As she subsided she rather hoped that the fingers would stay for a repeat performance, but Mikaela's generosity was not without limit. She stood up, took off her panties, and knelt over Sally's mouth, facing her feet. Her slave serviced the opening willingly and well, but took some bruising to her lips as a reward.

After she was satisfied, Mikaela kept the promise she had made days before. She moved forward a little and let the licking tongue play over her anal opening for a minute. Then she reached down and pulled herself open, and it pushed its way inside. She stayed like that, making little circling motions and moaning softly to herself, for a good ten minutes, until Sally was barely able to keep up the pressure. Just as she was thinking that she would have to give up, her mistress got up and lay by her side, breast at face level, pushed a nipple into her mouth, and proceeded to satisfy herself with her own fingers.

"That," she pronounced when it was all over, "was a very pleasant evening." She sat Sally up and poured more wine from a screw-topped bottle that she had brought with her. "I'll be off fairly early in the morning, so I'd better brief you on the next few days. You need to be in tomorrow afternoon; some men will be bringing a box of equipment. It's mainly cameras, microphones, speakers and the stuff to fit it all together; that's another of my talents. It's to help us keep an eye on you when we can't have you with us. I'll be back here on Sunday night- I won't need food- and I'll do the work on Monday. I've taken a few days holiday; I'm entitled to it as a reward for earning extra bonuses. It will take me till sometime in the afternoon, probably. Then you will drive me home, and stay with me till it's time to pick Maude up. Clear so far?"

"Yes, mistress."

"I'll email you with my ETA on Sunday. In the meantime there are a couple of things for you to do. Get some exercise. I don't think you'll be moving much next week. Secondly, sort out your bras. Try them all on, and be wearing the one that fits best when I come. Throw out any that are worn or don't fit well. Don't worry if you don't have many left. Lastly, start clearing out your spare room. Your house is very convenient, especially with the station so close. We'll need the room, though, especially when all three of us are here. You don't have to finish that job by Sunday, though. Maude and I will need keys, but that can wait if you don't get out in time tomorrow. Write down all your bank details, and root out one of each of your utility bills. Any questions?"

"No, mistress."

"Just one more thing I want you to know. I've brought a few time locks with me. They're a new item that we are developing, so they're a bit bulky. They open either after a time set on the dial, or with a key. Once set they can only be reset with the key. When I chain you to something- your bed, for instance- I'll use them. That means that if anything happens to me, you won't be left to die of thirst."

"Thank you, mistress."

"And so to bed."

Sally was a little unsteady when she got up, so Mikaela ushered her carefully up the stairs. She relocked her hands in front for her to pee and clean her teeth, but forbade any attempt to wash the baby oil off. For the night the wrist cuffs were chained to the bed head and the ankles to the foot, using the time locks. Sally had enough free play to let her bend her arms comfortably under her pillows, but she could not curl up her body.

"The locks are set for about nine o'clock," Mikaela said. "When they set you free you'll find the key to your cuffs on the dressing table. I'm setting the alarm for seven thirty; I need to make a prompt start. I think we need to get to sleep now. Goodnight, sleep tight."

"Goodnight mistress, sleep well".

Mikaela had chained Sally on the left side of the bed and, having switched off the light, lay alongside her. It was warm, so she pulled the duvet only up to their waists. Sally turned to face her, and she found her lips in the dark for a long, soft kiss. Then they settled down with Mikaela's head nestling in Sally's cleavage, and within five minutes both women were fast asleep.

Sally woke in the morning to find Mikaela absent, but the sound of the toilet flushing was soon followed by her reappearance. They started kissing, Mikaela's hands on Sally's breasts, until both were well aroused. Only one was in a position to get satisfaction, however. She pulled herself up to push her right nipple into the questing mouth, and used her own fingers to achieve release. Then she kissed her frustrated slave.

"I'll leave you to go back to sleep. Don't bother to change the bed: I like the scent. I know there's no point in telling you not to masturbate: you've no self-control. Just go easy tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye, mistress. Have a nice day."

Sally's walls and doors were not as thick as Maude's, so she had to listen to her mistress taking a shower, and the dull noises from downstairs that were, presumably, her dressing and getting her breakfast. Finally there came the "thump" of the front door closing. It was 8.45an. How accurate would the time locks be? The answer came soon: at 8.53 there was a "click", and the ankle lock opened. Since she couldn't reach down to twist the hasp and release the chain, she was no better off. It was 9.05 when the other one opened, and she was able to unlock her cuffs and begin her day. At 9.45, just as she finished her coffee, the phone rang.

"Just wanted to be sure the locks worked," said Mikaela. "They haven't been fully tested yet. That was your first assignment as a product tester. Were they accurate?"

"The ankles were seven minutes early, mistress, and the wrists five minutes late."

"We'll have to improve on that. Put everything back in my bag. One more thing; if you get the chance, another couple of bottles of baby oil would be a good idea. Bye."

Sally went to Chorley for the oil, and did as much other shopping as she could, given the need to be back by noon. She was able to get two sets of new keys cut. While she waited for the delivery she began to sort out her bras. She had recently found a supplier that specialised in pretty designs in large sizes, and the four bras from them were the only ones she thought worth keeping. At two there was a knock on the door, and two young, cheerful men brought a large box into her living room and left. She was now free until Sunday night.

She spent the rest of Saturday afternoon cycling. Perhaps if she did enough, she wouldn't have to ride Maude's infernal machine. In the evening she weeded the garden and started to sort out the wheat from the chaff in her spare room. The former she moved into the loft space over her study.; the latter she left where it was. It was mostly old furniture that she might possibly have got around to donating to charity. The task took her until bedtime, and she slept like a baby. She usually did.

When she woke she felt strangely disoriented; it took her a moment to realise that it was because she was unrestrained. She was up and out in time for a good long ride, although it left her very tired, so much so that she went back to bed after lunch and didn't get up until four o'clock. She hastened to check her messages.

Train arrives 7.55. Handcuffs in Maude's bag, wear bra only. No food required; open red wine. Have bag with clothes you can wear to the airport.

Yes, mistress.

After an early meal the time went quickly, much of it taken up with a last trawl through the contents of the spare room. She put a simple blue blouse and a pair of white slacks in a bag, and tidied the house a little. The oily towels were still on the sofa, so she folded them nearly and put them on the coffee table. There was no point in trying on her bras; they were all the same except for the colour. She did some more gardening but was driven back inside when it started to drizzle. She showered and put on her grey bra, carefully adjusting the straps until the fit was firm enough to give her lift but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. It was designed to be worn with low-cut tops, leaving bare flesh at the top of each breast and emphasising cleavage.

At the appointed hour she was once again listening at the patio door, wearing a dressing gown. The train was on time again, and she took off the robe and handcuffed herself. When she assumed the display position on the kitchen floor and cast her eyes down, her chest seemed to go on forever. Very soon Mikaela was standing before her, lifting her to her feet.

"Better this time. Stand straight and hold your arms right up."

She inspected the bra closely, tugging at the straps running a finger inside the cups, and lifting and dropping each boob separately and together. She made marks on the straps with a permanent marker so that the exact adjustments would not be lost, and then she declared herself satisfied. With Sally cuffed, collared and chained by the neck to the stair post, she opened the big box and checked over its contents, matching some items to others that she had brought with her. When she had finished she removed the bra and locked Sally's hands behind her, but not to the waist chain.

"We'll do a bit more posture work before we settle down to a drop of wine. Kneel in front of me."

Sally did so. She could not put her hands behind her head as originally instructed, so she just opened her legs.

"Head up! Remember what I said about the important parts of your body. It doesn't change just because you're restrained differently. Straighten your back. Pull your shoulders back."

Sally felt her breasts push out towards her mistress, who reached forward and took one in each hand.

"That's more like it. See? You offer them to me, and I take them. Now stand." She drew her to her feet. " Walk round the room, and then stand in front of me."

Sally did so, trying to keep erect, and returned to her starting point, to stand with her legs apart.

"Legs together when standing, unless you're told otherwise. It's to keep your tits as high as possible; near the eyeline. When you walk, keep your back straight but try to relax as much as possible. You shouldn't be seen to be deliberately wiggling your ass or swinging your boobs, but try to let gravity and centrifugal force do their work, and help them just a bit. Try again."

She did, trying not to try too hard, and returned as instructed.

That seemed to be better, but the room's a bit too small for you to get any rhythm going. Perhaps we'll try it on my lawn. Just let me show you something."

Mikaela took a length of rope from one of the bags that were now cluttering the room, and tied Sally's upper arms together. She wound it round several times just above the elbows, cinched it tight with vertical turns between the arms, and looped it round the throat to stop it slipping down. Sally's elbows were separated only by a few strands of the rope, and the effect was to force her shoulders right back. Her breasts were thrust forward in so pronounced a way that they almost looked artificial. Mikaela pulled her in front of a mirror, lamenting the lack of a full-length one.

"We'll need to do it at my place or Maude's, to give you a proper look. But you can get an idea. Walk round the room again."

This time, Sally was more acutely conscious that her body's function was to be a vehicle for transporting and displaying her breasts, and that her behaviour was affected by that. When she walked away from her mistress she tried to swing her upper body in the hope that their sides would be visible from behind. Walking across the room, she kept upper body turned slightly sideways. She lowered her head to return to her original position, raising it and straightening at the last moment, to lift her chest as an offering.

"You've got the right idea, even though you are making a bit of a pantomime of it. You know, they used to teach deportment in schools, but now they leave it to us. We pay more and more tax and get less and less in return. But that's enough work for today; you've got me all randy with your flouncing about, so kneel on the rug here." She was undressing as she spoke, and as soon as Sally obeyed she stood in front of her, legs apart, and pulled her head into her sex.

The slave went to work without needing any more prompting, tonguing strongly up and down the clitoral valley, realising that gentleness and refinement were not what was required. She could really only play the one tune, as the position did not allow her to slip her tongue inside her mistress. The latter pushed forward harder, forcing her back over her feet, until she had to reach back with her bound arms to support herself on her hands.

Now Sally could get her tongue into the opening, and Mikaela's fingers replaced it on clitoral duty. Sally could not get her arms very far back from her body, so her position was neither comfortable nor stable, but she did not have to hold it for long. There was the usual period of suffocation as Mikaela's spare hand clenched in her hair and forced her face harder against her crotch, but she was learning to take a deep breath and hold it as the moment arrived.

Her mistress wanted to cum again and, turning her back, used her right hand to force her head between her buttocks while masturbating with her left. Sally licked away, but her role was a secondary one. With no hands to hold the cheeks apart she had no hope of gaining entry. Mikaela bent over double to give her a better angle, and then fell forward when she brought herself off, to lie laughing on the floor with Sally kneeling over her.

"Careful! What do you think Maude will do to you if she finds me all covered in bruises on Tuesday? What would you like first; wine or an orgasm?"

"An orgasm, please, mistress."

"Silly question. Just lie back where you are."

She was considerate enough to hold Sally's head so it didn't bump on the floor; then she lifted her legs, put one over each shoulder, and put her own mouth to work, reaching her arms forward to take a breast in each hand. Her tongue seemed to be everywhere, one moment licking her swollen nubbin, the next right underneath, as she raised her shoulders to improve the angle. Sally took about five minutes, and when she came Mikaela found herself unusually vulnerable, the crotch driving into her face and, if she tried to back off, legs clenched hard over her ears.

"Wow; isn't there an old saying about taking a tiger by the tail; or is it a piece of tail? I think we'll get a set of spreader bars here before I put my head in there again."

She went off to get the wine, and Sally struggled to her feet to go over to the sofa. She was glad to get the weight off her arms, but the tie was not as uncomfortable as she had expected, having seen photographs of women bound that way on the Internet. As with most positions, it was important to relax into it; to let the rope do its work. Nevertheless, she thought that a couple of hours would probably be her limit. As it was not far from bedtime, that wouldn't be an issue tonight. When the two women were relaxed with their drinks (though Sally had, as usual, to keep leaning forward to suck hers through a straw) Mikaela wanted to talk.

"I forgot to tell you on Friday about one very interesting customer in Norwich. I'll just be oiling your tits while I tell you about him. He's bought very little from us; in a way that's what makes him interesting. Ten years ago he bought a set of leather cuffs, a collar and a waist band, a cat o' nine tails, and the most secure and effective ball gag that we sold then. He also bought lots of locks, chain and rope. He bought it all at the same time, as one order."

"Is that it, mistress?" after a long pause.

"Of course not, don't be so impatient. He bought nothing else for five years. Then he bought a new gag, the closest equivalent to the first one. A year after that he bought new cuffs and some rope. Last year it was a whip; identical to the first one. What do you make of this?"

"The old ones wore out, mistress."

"Precisely. He has one slave and has probably kept her- or him- all this time. He's a creature of habit, always using the same equipment. It's possible he buys from other sources, but we have a big catalogue. He whips his slave a lot."

"How long does a whip last, mistress?"

"We don't have a machine to test them, like IKEA tests seats and drawers. On the other hand we make them to the highest standard we can and we've never had a complaint. He's doled out over a thousand lashes a year, at a conservative estimate."

Sally's insides were churning. What would a thousand lashes do to a person? How many at once? She did some fast mental arithmetic; it didn't seem quite as bad if she thought of it as three or four strokes a day.

"It must be a rather monotonous life, mistress, as well as a painful one."

"We've no idea, really. There is a Norfolk cluster, there's no way of knowing if he has anything to do with it. He probably doesn't contribute any of our equipment. Perhaps he does all their whipping for them, has lines of slaves strung up naked in his living room, waiting their turn. Another glass?"

"Yes please, mistress. Are you going to try to find out, mistress?"

"Not at the moment; he's just a curiosity. I'm more interested in people who are closer to home. That reminds me; I meant to tell you about the tea room. You are on the guest list there now, so you can eat free at any time. If you give them a couple of hours" notice they'll do you a full lunch or dinner, and you can have a private room if you want."

"Thank you, mistress. The food there is very good."

"I'm encouraging them to be a bit more diverse in their offerings, so the more proper meals you have there, the better. The business does very well on spring and summer afternoons, but there's only so much money in scones. there's room for bed and breakfast, too. I can't get another drop into these tits. Let's put some towels down, and I'll do your ass."

"Yes, mistress. I love having my tits all oily, and the feel of your hands on them, mistress."

"Lucky for you, though your opinion wasn't asked for. I don't like such coarse language coming from you. I have a duty to improve your moral hygiene; in that respect I must put your needs before my own. Call them your mammaries."

"Yes, mistress."

"And what do you call this?" poking at her sex.

"It depends on the context, mistress. My pubes, sex, twat, cunt; it depends who I'm talking to."

"Think what your poor dear mother would say if she could hear you, Call it your honeypot. And this?"

"My asshole, or my rectum, mistress."

"I'd be inclined to wash your mouth out with soap if there was an obvious polite alternative. I guess the Victorians never mentioned it at all. Until we think of something better, call it your love tunnel."

"Yes, mistress."

"It's better to use words that help to give you a positive image of yourself; that emphasise the happiness and pleasure that your body gives to yourself and others."

Mikaela was running her well-lubricated hand up and down the valley between the glistening buttocks. Sally was now struggling to retain any interest in the conversation, she was hoping that Mikaela had run out of parts of her to rename. She had, and was concentrating harder on her self-assigned task. She had moved to kneel between the outstretched legs, holding them apart to improve her access and protect herself from sudden spasms. Sally came on a thumb and three fingers, her bottom wagging up and down frantically, the only useful movement that she could make. Before she had finished, however, Mikaela abruptly withdrew, and pushed the thumb and just her forefinger into the newly christened "love tunnel". To her relief, the wagging went on uninterrupted and there were no clamping spasms, and she pushed and pulled them in and out with hardly a break in her rhythm. Sally seemed to work harder, and her mistress held her bottom steady with her other hand until it was over.

"Maude told me that your anal training was going well. I had to try it for myself. You have come a very long way in a few days."

"Please, mistress, more! I can take more!."

"You'll take what you're given, girl. Don't make demands on your mistress. That's quite enough to be going on with." She was deftly undoing the knots that bound Sally's upper arms. Having done that she lay alongside her, held her close and kissed her long and passionately. Then: "Time for bed. Lots to do tomorrow."