The naked woman wore her chains like a badge of honor, head held high, chest thrown forward, and a faint smile upon her lips. The fact that she was helpless and totally in control of the woman holding the leash attached to her neck collar didn't seem to bother the young brunette woman. That her arms were locked firmly behind her back with two pairs of handcuffs, one at the wrists and one just above the elbows, was beneath her mention. The small pair of thumb cuffs were likewise ignored. The leg irons, much like a pair of handcuffs with a longer chain, swirled around on the ground with each step, making metallic tinkling when she passed over cement, but was also ignored as being beneath her.
Their destination was a small secluded bit of garden at the edge of some rows of grape vines. Hidden by the tall bushes and trees was a stout wooden post set into the grass, and extending up only about three feet. The naked girl was led directly to that and the chain being used as her leash was locked to a metal ring at the top. After clicking closed the padlock, the woman smiled and patted the chained girl upon her bare bottom, then bid her goodbye and a pleasant afternoon.
Once alone, the confident smile disappeared from the prisoner and she took stock of her condition. She already knew that the handcuffs upon her arms were snug and impossible to work off. She knew from walking to this place that the cuffs locked around her ankles were snug and not about to come down over her feet. The only restraint not made of metal was the leather collar around her neck, and that was buckled in back and would have easily yielded to her fingers could she but reach up to them. She gave a few tugs upon the chain that linked her with that post and was rewarded only with a jangling. She could see where the wooden post was set into concrete and knew that she would not be dislodging it.
With a sigh, she walked around in the circle allowed her by the chain, perhaps six feet in radius, and knew that this was were her entire world for the rest of the afternoon. Well, she told herself, if could have been a lot worse. There were far worse tortures that to have to spend you time in the warm sunlight and fresh air, with only the mild discomfort of chained arms and ankles. All in all, it would probably prove to be one of the nicer days she had spent at that place.
It was an hour later, while sitting the grass and watching commercial jet aircraft passing silently very high above her, that she found the hack saw blade.
It must have been lost, perhaps by one of the workmen who put in that post with it's metal ring at the top. Apparently it had been out there, hidden in the grass, for quite some time for it bore discolorations of rust along its length. But the teeth were still sharp and would still fulfill their function.
She turned her back and picked up the blade in fingers made awkward by the thumb cuffs. By straining a bit, she was able to bring her hands around to her side and examine the blade. Her attempts to get the blade between fingers so she could work its teeth against the thumb cuffs proved fruitless. The same for getting the tool around to work at the chain joining her wrists. Without the full use of her thumbs, she just couldn't work the blade effectively.
Giving up on the metal around her wrists and thumbs, she looked down at her feet. By kneeling, she might be able to work on the leg irons. But what good would that do her? Even if she managed to part the chain, and she could take full sized steps, where could she go? The chain around her neck still held her prisoner. She crawled over to the post and looked at the ring. The padlock looked very hard. The chain was fairly thick and chrome plated or something that looked hard. But the ring set into the wood looked older, discolored from weathering and a possible target for her freshly discovered tool.
She found it easiest to work on the shaft of the ring where it went into the wood. Working the blade back and forth across the metal was awkward, again because of the thumb cuffs, but not impossible. And she had lots of time. If she could get the ring loose from the wood, she could at least walk away. She knew that she wouldn't get far, but an escape attempt would certainly surprise her jailers. She worked with a eagerness that bordered on joy.
Towards the end of the afternoon, just as she figured she was almost all the way through the metal shaft, she felt the first drop of water strike her bare back. The clouds had gathered that warm summer afternoon, and a brief but surprisingly hard shower resulted. She paused to enjoy the water upon her bare skin.
She was about to resume her sawing when she saw someone coming. Quickly she tossed the blade away. It disappeared into the grass from where it came. It was a different jailer who came to fetch her, but the man had the key to that padlock and used it to change her tether back into a leash. Trying not to look guilty, the naked woman glanced down to the top of the wooden post, expecting to see the metal fillings from her work as a sure warning to this man that something was happening here. But the fillings were not there! As she was being led away, she realized that the rain had washed them away into the grass. Her attempt at escape had gone unnoticed.
* * *
1
A Walk in the Snow
The car slowed to a stop and the girl was kicked out.
As the car drove away, the young woman rose awkwardly to a sitting position and shook her head. She would have liked to reach up and brush away the snow clinging to her hair and face, for she had landed face down in a drift, but she could not because of the ropes binding her arms tightly behind her back. She struggled to her feet, a task made more difficult by the lack of arms, as rapidly as she could. The snow was very cold against her bare skin, and there was much bare skin for the snow to cling to since she was completely naked.
Colleen McMasters shook her head to free it of as much of the clinging white stuff as she could, then looked around. All she saw was a winter landscape of white draped over trees, rocks and covering the land. Even the road before her was mostly white, marred only by the twin tracks made by tires of the car which had left her stranded there. With a sigh she began walking along that road, casting as she did fearful glances skyward. The overcast was low and so gray she couldn't even tell which direction the sun was. It was still afternoon, late afternoon, and the sun would have been visible had it not been for the ominous clouds. And at that altitude, the clouds were among the trees, not far above Colleen's head. No breeze stirred the limbs heavy with snow, and the air was sharp with the bite of winter. To this lovely twenty-one year old girl, it felt as if fresh snow would start falling at any time and she wished to be back at the cabin before than.
As she walked along, she planned elaborate verbal abuse of Ken when next she saw him, not, as one would suspect, for his having left her out in the countryside easily a mile from the warmth and shelter of their cabin, but for his having gleefully pushed her from the warm car into a very cold snow bank. He could have simply opened the door for her and allowed her to gracefully exit the vehicle. She would be freezing her little buns off soon enough, she didn't need an immediate dunking in the cold crystals.
But she also knew that she would never deliver that verbal barrage. She would be so glad to see him, so happy to be in the warmth of their cabin, and so very joyous when he picked her up and deposited her in the hot tub, that she would forget all about her anger and melt in his arms. Which was as it always was. This was not the first time that the beautiful and sexy Colleen had been made to walk naked and bound through the snow simply because her man wished it. They had been playing such games for a couple years, and both loved them. No matter how terrible his treatment of her, she never could stay mad at him.
With thoughts more and more turning to the hot water of that spa, Colleen trudged on, feet growing colder with each step. The bite of the winter air made her nipples pucker up and stand out in mockery of sexual excitement. She wondered why it was always her nipples that felt the cold first. Of course, this time they had been plunged into snow and had every reason to be cold, but when she had taken such bare assed walks before, those nipples were the first to feel the cold, the first to complain. Of course, her feet were cold, having to walk in the snow made them complain right away. He could have allowed her snow boots. They would have detracted little from her overall nakedness, and they certainly would have made the walk less torturous. But he had taken her a relatively short distance from the cabin this time, and she had known it would be that way when he took her to the car with no boots. Had he planned for her to walk several miles, he would have allowed boots. It was a cruel, but not harmful master.
The curving mountain road twisted among the trees, at times level, then filled with dips and small rises. The lovely still winter scene was beautiful, no doubt about that, but Colleen's thoughts were less of the beauty around her than of the warm greeting awaiting her and that wonderfully hot spa. It had been cold the night before and each footstep evoked a crunching sound as she stepped in fresh snow. Where she could, she followed the tire marks for the snow was less deep there, but when confronted with a curve, she chose to cut across it to make her path as short as possible.
Colleen looked down at her large breasts, firm as only youthful ones can be, and noted the presence of goose- pimples on her skin. She was probably covered with them, she thought, and tried to increase the speed of her steps. But the snow fought her and made walking a task of high steps. Had she boots, she would have plowed through the snow, but with bare feet she didn't want to be kicking the snow around.
No matter how many times it happened to her, Colleen was always excited at the idea of being so exposed, helpless and alone. What woman wouldn't be very much aware of her state of undress as well as the fact that she could not use her arms to cover herself? And she was alone in the forest, walking down a seldom used road, but with the ever-present possibility of discovery. Fortunately, the still air would give her a great deal of advance warming were a car to be coming. She would hear it with plenty of time to retreat off the road and hide among the trees. Footsteps in the snow might give her away, but it was unlikely that anyone coming along that road would be looking for foot prints. Still, it was wonderfully exciting to be so helpless. This circumstances and feelings might have scared most women, but it only excited Colleen and made her feel very sexy. By the time she reached the cabin, she would be quite horny and ready for sex. She hoped Ken would match her thrust for thrust.
Colleen knew that road, this was not the first time she had walked down it. A few more turns and she would see the cabin. At that point the clouds, perhaps teased by the tips of trees against their underbellies, released some of the moisture they had held every since leaving the ocean days before. Soft white flakes drifted down, only a few at first, like scouts, but then an even blanket of them silently descended. Colleen smiled. Her feet were very cold and other parts of her were not much warmer, but it was a beautiful scene as the fresh snow drifted so slowly downward. She knew that there would be a dusting of the soft stuff on her hair and smiled at that image. It would make her look more pitiful when Ken saw her.
At last the cabin was there, a thin trickle of smoke drifting upward from the chimney. Colleen hurried the last steps and was panting when she reached the door. Turning, she tried the door handle with bound hands, but it was locked. Then she knocked on the door with a fist, awkwardly because of the bound wrists, but loud enough to announce her presence.
Nothing happened. Colleen frowned and knocked again. Was Ken playing some game? When no sound came from within, and the door remained solidly shut, she frowned again. This was not fun. She looked through the small glass window in the door but could see no one inside. In a peeved mood, she turned from the door and walked to the picture window. Inside the fireplace was a small fire, but nothing else moved in there. No Ken anywhere.
Colleen walked around the side. The bedroom window was too high for her to see through, so she continued around to the back door. It was also locked. She completed her circuit of the house with no sign of anyone being within. Back at the front door she bit her lip in puzzlement. The car was parked next to the house, Ken had made it back here. But where was he?
Colleen wanted to stamp her feet but they were too cold for that. She was ready for this game to end, it was cold standing around naked in the gently falling snow. She stepped away from the front door to look around.
It was then she heard the cry, a loud, raucous war whoop, issuing from above her. She turned to look up and was greeted by a large bucketful of water splashing down from above. A second later Ken jumped off the roof, landed beside the drenched girl, then picked her up in his arms and jogged for the nearest snow bank. He tossed her into the deep, soft snow, laughing gleefully as he did. Colleen let out with a scream.
When she struggled out of the snow, covered from head to toe by the clinging white stuff, Ken had disappeared. Muttering curses, Colleen followed the tracks to the house and through the open door. In the back, in the small room they had built for the spa, she found Ken divesting himself of the last of his clothes next to the steaming spa. Ignoring the naked man, Colleen climbed carefully into the spa and lowered her shivering body gratefully into the hot water. Ken dashed to close the front door, then joined Colleen in the wonderfully hot water.
For a while Colleen simply enjoyed the warmth sinking into her body. It was almost a sensuous feeling as her skin tingled with nerves awakening. Then Ken's arms were around her and their mouths met in a long kiss filled with passion. With an eagerness only the young possess, his hands kneaded her body, squeezing her breasts, pressing against her pussy under the water, and grabbing both cheeks of her ass tightly. His passion was met by an equally intense one on the part of the young woman, and soon she was pressing her hips against him in obvious need. He lifted her half out of the water and lowered her upon his shaft. It slid in easily, accompanied by a loud moan of pure pleasure from the still bound girl.
The lovemaking was fast and eager. For a long time afterwards, they rested in the hot water, her legs still around his hips, and his penis still inside her sheath. When they finally got out, Colleen had forgotten all about the verbal tongue lashing she had planned for her lover.
2
A Plea for Ropes
"But, Mommy! How can you be so mean!"
The accuser of parental abuse was a delightfully cute seventeen year old girl with soft blonde hair descending to mid-back and swaying with each shake of her head. The up turn of her nose made her cute rather than beautiful, but did not diminish one bit from her attractiveness. Proud young breasts pressing against the silk blouse and, obviously not held in check by any bra, gave testimony to the sexual maturity of this teenager, while her soft lips turned down in a sexy pout.
"I'm almost eighteen and I'm ready!" she argued.
Across the den her mother looked up from her cocktail and scanned her daughter from the points of the black leather high heels, up those fine legs covered in nylon, to the slender hips clad in a tight black leather skirt, over the scarlet satin blouse, and to the stray wisp of hair hanging down her forehead. "Forget it," she informed as she took a sip. "And get out of those clothes. You've been raiding my wardrobe again."
"But Mommy..." Susie began as she turned around in display of a very sexy package. "Don't I look gorgeous? Just like you used to."
"You are not going out looking like a street walker, and that's final," said Mrs. Tanya Pager. Then she looked over her daughter again and conceded, "Yes, I guess I did look like that once. But I was a model, I had to look sexy." "I want to be a model, Mommy!"
"Hush, Susie. I've told you a thousand times, wait until you're eighteen. Then I'll let you into the dungeon."
Susie pouted. "You're impossible. I'm ready now."
Mrs. Pager sighed. "Run along and change your clothes. When the time's right, I'll let you find out all about bondage modeling. And it's not as glamorous as you think it is."
Susie sniffed, but, sensing that tears would not work either, turned and left the room. Behind her mother sipped the cocktail and mused aloud to an empty room, "There were times it was pretty rough. But it was fun, too. Little Susie doesn't know what she wants to get herself into."
Back in her room, Susie dropped her pout and threw herself onto the bed where she bounced once before settling down on her stomach with her chin cradled in her hands. "Mommy's just being mean. She could let me down into the dungeon now. There's no reason to wait a few weeks until I'm eighteen."
For this attractive teenage girl, the lifestyle her mother used to lead was all she wanted, all she was driven to emulate. She knew all about her mother's career as a top bondage model, probably the best that ever was. She had seen numerous photos of her mother bound up in tight ropes, dressed in sexy clothing, or the lack of clothing, gagged, and even being punished in a variety of painfully tight and contorted bondage positions. She had seen some of the video tapes made by her father, tapes showing her mother in wonderfully exciting bondage, completely helpless and looking so very innocent. Those videos convinced her that here was something she had to have.
And there was the dungeon. Having enough money to play around, Mr. and Mrs. Pager had built a full sized dungeon into the basement of their Hollywood home. It held a pillory, stocks, pulleys, posts, beams and all sorts of delightful bondage devices Susie was eager to try out. There was even a small wire mesh cage in one corner where a girl could be locked in and suspended near the ceiling to sway back and forth and enjoy her helplessness for hours on end.
But Susie wasn't allowed into the dungeon. Ever since her father had died a few years before, she had wanted to become a part of the bondage life her mother had so enjoyed before her. But mommy wouldn't allow that. Not until little Susie was of age to be an adult.
Susie rolled over on her back and groaned. She was missing so much! Right that very moment, she could have been down in the dungeon, lashed tightly with ropes to the post, arms pulled firmly back behind the solid wood, holding her prisoner there. She could be gagged with one of those ball gags that looked so very effective. Susie shivered with erotic delight at the thought of being so helpless. Mommy shouldn't be such a prude. It wouldn't take her long to tie up Susie, then she could get back to her cocktail. Or back to that new boyfriend of hers, Phil or Tim, or something like that. The idea of mommy entertaining Phil or Tim or whatever in the den while little Susie was all tied up down in the basement dungeon excited the young girl. What a delight that would be for both of them!
And perhaps she would bring Phil (or whoever) down to see her daughter in her helplessness. Susie pushed her breasts out, pretending that she was solidly bound against the post and thrusting them out for Phil to ogle. Maybe Mommy would even tie her up naked so that Tim would get a real eyeful! She hugged herself in delicious sexual arousal at that thought.
Susie wanted to very much to explore that wonderful world, but Mommy said she had to wait. It wasn't as if Mommy hadn't done it herself. She had even been a bondage model, not to mention pretty heavy into the scene with Daddy. That's how Susie knew there was a pillory and a cage and a post down in the dungeon. She had found video tapes showing her mother, and a big bunch of other lovely girls, in and on those devices, wonderfully bound and strapped and gagged and chained up.
Susie closed her eyes and slowly passed her hands down her sides until she felt smooth nylon on her thighs. She arched her body upward, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt and the tingle as her nipples rubbed and pressed against the satin material of that blouse. She moaned. Her hands slid around until they grabbed her small, round bottom, then they clutched hard.
She moaned again at the slight pain from fingernails digging into the leather-clad bottom. And she imagined what it would be like if she were tied down and some man, or a woman, was doing the kneading of her flesh. She imagined the feeling of tight ropes around her limbs and how she would have to struggle hard against them only to discover herself a complete prisoner.
While Susie was well on her way to an imaginative sexual fantasy in her room, her mother was waiting for Philip to pick her up. She sighed at the thought of her impossible daughter and her incredible perverted sexual drives. But she had been that way herself once, years before, so she couldn't condemn. She had put her approval of that kind of activity off to make sure that it was what Susie really wanted. Well, it was apparent now that there would be no changing of that teenage mind. She would just have to accept that her daughter was going to follow in her footsteps.
But that wasn't so bad, really. But she would like to get the little nymphet out of her hair. For a while at least. Then she could have some real fun with Philip.
3
An Obedient Slavegirl
Janet knelt on the thick carpet, legs perfectly together, back straight, head bowed. Her arms were already behind her back, secured there by rope wrapped tightly around the crossed wrists. Her mousy brown hair fell around her bowed head, hiding her face from view, then ending just were her young, pert nipples peeked through the ends. Although not gagged, she remained silent like the obedient slavegirl she was.
Janet's master, one Robert Walker, sat in the easy chair, relaxing with a cocktail in one hand, gazing towards the beautiful sunset visible out the wide window. He ignored the naked woman kneeling by his feet.
For a long time that tableau held, Robert occasionally taking a sip from his glass, Janet kneeling perfectly still as a good slavegirl should. Then the man glanced casually at his watch. "About time for your evening whipping," he said. "Get to the bedroom."
Without a word, the kneeling slavegirl rose to her feet, a maneuver that would have been difficult for many women with their hands bound behind them, but which she performed gracefully from much practice. She walked to the bedroom, straight to the corner devoid of furniture, where she stool with face and breasts pressed into the corner. Her master entered at a more leisurely pace. Putting his drink down on the dresser, he selected a length of rope from the top drawer, then approached his slavegirl and wife. He tied the rope to that already around her wrists, knotting the white cotton clothesline down carefully, then tossed the free end over a hook screwed into the ceiling. As he pulled and her arms rose into the air, Janet backed up until she was standing directly under the hook. When her hands were at the level of her shoulder blades, he tied the rope off on a ring in the wall. Returning to the dresser, he casually selected a thin belt from the small collection of them next to his socks. He took up a position behind his slavegirl.
Janet kept her head bowed, the soft brown hair hanging down and covering her breasts. She knew what was coming and what was expected of her. When the belt swished through the air to impact against the flesh of her bottom, she jerked a slight bit, she couldn't help that. But immediately she said, "One. Thank you, Master. I am a slavegirl."
Robert paused to take yet another sip, then returned to his station behind her bottom. One red line across her right cheek was darkening. He pulled his arm back and backhanded her across the other cheek. 'Two. Thank you, Master. I am your slavegirl."
The next stroke was delivered against the flesh of the right cheek, crossing over the first one there. "Three. Thank you, Master. I will obey you in all ways." The belt made a "swack" sound as it hit the soft skin. The bound slavegirl jerked with the pain of each stroke, but did not cry out. "Four. Thank you, Master. I will be submissive to you in all ways."
The routine continued. Swack! "Five. Thank you, Master. Your wish is my command." Swack! "Six. Thank you, Master. My body is yours to punish." Swack! "Seven. Thank you, Master. Please punish me." Swack! "Eight. Thank you, Master. I am not worthy."
It ended with "Ten. Thank you, Master. May I always please you."
He finished his drink, leaving his slavegirl with her arms pulled up behind her. Then he went to take a shower. When he returned, she was still there, head still bowed, bottom glowing red from five hard strokes delivered across each cheek. Casually, as if having all the time in the world, and as if he did not have a considerable erection pointing at her, he untied the rope holding her wrists to the ceiling, but left those holding the hands together. With one hand clutching her long hair, he pulled her head back and kissed her with a passion. Knowing that it was now allowed, she kissed back with equal passion.
When they finally broke, both were breathing heavier. With the hand still holding her hair, he pushed her towards the bed, giving her a shove with the other hand as the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed. She fell backwards onto the bed, bounced once, then immediately wiggled until she was centered on the bed. As soon as she was in position, she lifted her legs into a wide Vee, spread them as wide as possible, and awaited her master's pleasure.
It was not long in coming. As he pumped away inside his slavegirl, she closed her eyes and moaned with pure pleasure at each stroke. The minor discomfort from laying on crossed and bound hands did not even enter her mind, although she was aware of the burning as a whipped ass rubbed against the covers. It felt good.
The sex was satisfactory for both of them. Later, as he held the covers aside, Janet crawled under them to be greeted by cool, smooth sheets. She fell asleep with her head resting against his shoulder and his arms around her. She knew that in the morning those hot marks would be gone, along with the mild pain from them. By the next evening her bottom would again be virgin, or at least unmarked, for the kiss of the belt. She felt asleep wondering what it would be like if someday the man she loved would use a real whip to score the flesh of her bottom and make her scream.
4
A Sad Situation and Opportunity
"You bastard! You idiot! You get those stupid ideas out of your head."
The heated words came from a pretty woman in her early twenties who shook her finger at her husband to emphasis her firmness.
"You know what I've told you about that kind of nonsense before. No way! Get you sick ideas out of your head." Mary Ellen stormed away, but had Mark Piffer been before her instead of behind her, he would have seen a smile on her face. But it was not a smile of amusement, rather the smug, self-satisfied smile of a woman who had won yet another battle and pushed her husband a bit farther into line with her ideas of what marriage should be.
Behind her, Mark sighed and returned to his computer screen. But a knot was in his stomach and his wife's words stung him deeply. He could not concentrate on the icons and words before him. It was a familiar story of the last few months. And it had all seemed so fine when before that. He was a happy man when he marched his young and pretty bride down the aisle. All had seemed as if it would be a long, happy marriage.
And it was not Mark who had changed. Once the ring was on her finger, Mary became a possessive, self-centered woman who had to have everything her own way - including sex. Before marriage, during the few months they had dated, she had been docile enough during sex. A little demanding perhaps, but she had been willing to try to please him. She had even allowed him to tie her hands behind her back a couple times. And seemed to enjoy the sex they had when she was so bound. There had been no indication then that she would suddenly turn around and reject all attempts at the erotic kinds of sex he liked. From a submissive young woman, she had changed into a shrew almost over night.
With a sigh he pushed away the keyboard and stared at the ceiling. It had started on their wedding night. He had packed away some ropes in his luggage, and a brand new pair of handcuffs bought specially for the occasion. But when she came to him in bed, the ropes laying on the satin sheets were brushed aside by a laughing Mary Ellen. He had thought that she was playing "hard to get" but it was clear too soon that things had changed. She lay on her back on the sheets, spread her legs and told him to please her.
So it was that a man who had only a modest desire to dominate his wife and sex partner, came to be dominated himself by the same woman he had wished to bind with ropes and love. Each sexual encounter was on her terms, the way she wanted it, and had better result in the sexual satisfaction she wanted.
There were other ways in which she changed after the ceremony marking a bond between them. But to Mark the most important and most painful was her refusal to even consider any kind of domination or deviation. Sex became an unpleasant task of making sure she reached her orgasm. Heaven forbid he should happen to have one before her pleasure had been reached. It even got to the point where she suggested that he wait until after her orgasm, then withdraw and finished his sex up with his hand. She found her vagina being filled with his semen to be so very "messy," and "unpleasant."
And oral sex was fine with her... So long as it was his mouth giving her pleasure. Before marriage she had teased his penis with her tongue, even taken it into her mouth for some delicious moments of soft, warm pleasure. They had been few and far between, but he assumed that after they were married and got to know each other better, she would be more willing to give him the same oral pleasure he willing gave to her. Wrong!
With a big sigh, Mark tried to get back to the spreadsheet he was working on before her heated rejection of his suggestion that perhaps she would find it fun to be tied spread-eagle on the bed while he used his mouth and tongue to please her. But it was useless and he closed out the spreadsheet program. As a diversion, and in hope of distracting his mind and body from unfilled desires, he started his telecommunication software and dialed up one of the larger bulletin board systems. But thoughts of Mary's soft skin and round breasts would not leave his mind, and he found himself selecting the adult message section, then the Dungeon Corner section where messages about kinky subjects were allowed. Idly, he allowed the messages to scroll by, looking at them but not really reading them. Then suddenly his finger flew to the keyboard to freeze the screen.
It was a short message, and would probably be considered a joke by most, even the kinky who read that message area, but it caught Mark's eye. It read: Slave Hotel Available Need a place to store a slavegirl for a while? Want a slavegirl trained? Excellent accommodations and training from pampered to dungeon.
And it was followed with a post office box. Mark stared at the screen for a long time. Then he wrote down the address.
In another city, far away, Robert Walker was also staring at a computer screen, one displaying the same message. He glanced over at his faithful and very obedient slavegirl, Janet, knelling in the corner of the room, her slender naked body very straight but the head bowed as she faced the blank walls. He looked at the crossed and bound wrists and smiled.
In the same city, an hour later and only a mile from where Robert Walker was preparing for the evening whipping of his slavegirl's ass, Philip turned off his computer screen and picked up the pad of paper on which he had written an address. With an amused smile he reached for the phone. This was something Tanya would be most interested in. And a way to get that cute but annoying teenage brat out of their hair.
And in yet another city, distant from the others, a man named Ken was addressing an envelope in which was a short note requesting more information about a hotel specializing in the rooming and training of slavegirls.
5
Invitation
The reply that all received was the same. In an elegant script, on fine quality paper, was an invitation to a unique establishment: The management is pleased to announce the opening of an American branch of the Chateau LeGrand. For many years the most exclusive and highly specialized of all such establishments in Europe, the Chateau LeGrand now offers its unique facilities in the New World.
The Chateau LeGrand is unique in that it caters to only those who understand the dominant nature of some people, as well as the submissive nature of others. Here a Master or Mistress may send a slavegirl for boarding in a manner appropriate to her status, and for training of varying degrees and at the hands of highly skilled Chateau LeGrand Masters and Mistresses.
Individual programs are arranged for each guest, with the Master's wishes completely carried out.
The Chateau LeGrand may be a pleasurable stay for a pampered slavegirl wearing only slender golden chains, or a constant succession of torments for the slavegirl who needs to be punished. You decide.
Video taping and still photography service is available. Pick up and delivery included.
Please address all inquires, along with particulars of the care you wish for your slavegirl, to Master Fredrick. Please be assured that the Chateau LeGrand is quite serious and only for the connoisseurs of erotic domination.
Each of the four individuals described thus far sat down to write a letter to this Master Fredrick, outlining their ideas and wishes. All mailed their letters on the same day, and all were received by Master Fredrick on the same afternoon. Each was carefully read, along with several dozen other replies. Most of the replies were tossed into a trash can for they did not meet certain requirements of the Chateau LeGrand. But the four in question were set aside. They all came from serious people who honestly stated their desires, and all asked the most important question: what was the price? Master Fredrick considered that most important for someone serious about utilizing their services would naturally ask it. Most of the other letters were from people who were frivolous or who did not have a slavegirl and wanted one. The Chateau LeGrand was not in the business of providing submissive females for those who lacked the courage or fortitude to get their own.
That evening the four letters were reviewed by Mistress Monique. Then she and Fredrick composed replies.
Several days later four envelopes were delivered by US Postal Service to four men eager for their arrival. In each was a personal letter, outlining a program that would suit the needs of that master, defining in reasonable detail how the slavegirl would be treated, how training goals would be met, and what the cost would be.
Fortunately each recipient of these letters was of a wealthy status enabling them to easily handle the monetary requirement. All except Philip, but Tanya Pager readily agreed that the cost was very reasonable for what was to be provided and not a strain on her bank accounts at all.
And each letter included three of photos. In one a lovely blonde girl was kneeling at the feet of a stunningly beautiful woman dressed in tight fitting black leather. The blonde wore no clothing and bore silver chains upon her wrists and ankles. She was bowing to kiss the booted foot of the raven haired mistress.
In the other photo, another young woman, a redhead this time, was being tortured. She was strung up by her wrists, toes dangling inches above a concrete floor. Her body was crisscrossed with reddish and purple streaks, undoubtedly freshly administered by the gloved hand holding a small whip in one corner of the photo. The lovely young woman looked very innocent and pained as she pleaded with her eyes for ease from a full body whipping that must have been quite painful.
The third photo showed yet another girl, naked as were the other two, yet little could be seen for her entire head was encased in a tight-fitting leather hood, the laces visible in the back. Her body was secured into a hogtie of excellent tightness and skillful application. Clearly visible in the photo was the way the thin rope cut into the soft flesh above her elbows as they were crushed together, as well as above her knees, at the wrists and ankles. Her wrists were tightly corded to her ankles with the fingers actually being under her legs. It was a very constrictive, arched hogtie that must have placed considerable strain upon that fine young body.
It was this three photos that did more than a thousand words would have to convince each person that this was, indeed, what they were looking for.
Decisions were made. Additional plans defined and set upon paper for transmission to Chateau LeGrand. Some exchanged a few more letters, ironing out details and asking about additional services. But in the end all came to agreement and fates were sealed.
6
Surprise for a Slavegirl
The first "guest" for the Chateau LeGrand to be picked up was Colleen McMasters. Her husband had decided a few weeks on constant restrains and mild punishments with heavy sexual overtones would be both a stimulating experience for his love, and an exciting prospect for his enjoyment, too. The video tape that would be taken and mailed daily to him would be eagerly awaited at his end.
He did not bother to tell Colleen of his plans, preferring to announce his little surprise only after it was too late for her to protest. Not that she would, he knew. Her main complaint would undoubtedly be that he was not going to be present. Colleen had never played such games with anyone other than Ken, and that alone would be a shock. But since she was to be in constant restraint, she would just have to go along with the program. He chuckled at that thought.
The pick up was planned for a Saturday morning. Ken thought it out carefully and began his scheming the night before when he made sure that Colleen fell asleep with her hands crossed and bound behind her back, a not uncommon occurrence for a couple who had interwoven such erotic arts into their lives.
In the morning, Ken gave his love a shower with her hands still tied behind her back, a delightful experience for both of them and one which Colleen always enjoyed. Afterwards, he fed her breakfast while she sat obediently in the chair, hands tied and completely naked, her still wet hair glistening in the morning sunlight. She delighted as he fed her each forkful of food, both enjoying her helplessness and the good food. Still later he took her back to the bedroom and announced that he was going to tie her extra tight then ravish her naked and helpless body. Grinning from ear to ear, Colleen turned her back and offered her bound wrists for him to bind in a different, and undoubtedly much more uncomfortable manner.
But he didn't bind her wrists at first. Instead he sat her down on the edge of the bed and bound her ankles together, taking great care with each winding of rope and knot. Colleen giggled and chided him for taking so long with the ropes when she wanted him to get finished and on to more erotic activities. But he continued with his skillful application of the ropes for he knew that she was not to spend merely an hour or two tied as she would be, but much more. He wanted the ropes to be as comfortable as possible consistent with complete security.
Finished with the ankles, he proceeded upwards to her knees which he bound together both above and below them, the ropes tight and cinched down and knotted. Only when her legs were well bound did he stand her on her feet and turn her around to work on her arms. Colleen smiled and wiggled her body, especially her smooth bottom, in a manner designed to excite the man applying the ropes. He tried to ignore the stimulation but a hardness in his pants betrayed his excitement.
First the binding of her wrists was undone. Then, without allowing her a second to message wrists or even bring her arms around in front of her, he gathered together the wrists and wound the same rope around them, this time not crossed but with palm facing palm. Those were very carefully wound and cinched down and then knotted. Leaving her standing there, he fetched another rope and looped it around her elbows, pulled them slowly together until they touched. As he wound the rope around those elbows, he could not help but notice the wonderful way that position made her breasts stand out, straight and proud. When he finished the final knot, he could not keep his hands from the rigid nipples and soft flesh. Colleen moaned as he cupped each breast and squeezed, gently at first, then firmly. She moaned louder and tried to bring her mouth to where she could kiss him.
But he avoided the kiss and tore himself away from the object of his desire, his resolution almost crumpling under the onslaught of passion. Before he could succumb to the temptation, he filled that lovely mouth with a ball gag, buckled the strap behind her head, and then tightened it one more notch. The edges of the leather strap were pressing hard into the corners of her mouth and the rubber ball mostly invisible behind her lips. He knew from past experience that she was unable to utter a word, the power of speech was now taken from her.
That was the part of the whole scene that he disliked the most, the gag. But it was necessary. It was his desire that she be completely helpless when she left for her journey and stay at Chateau LeGrand, and robbing her of speech was an important part of that. Yet he knew that she would be very uncomfortable because of that gag before her journey was over. Having made her spend the night with the gag in her mouth, he knew that her jaw would be aching before too many hours had passed. He was sorry about that, but only a little bit. It was exciting to him to imagine this lovely young woman, his wife, all naked and so totally helpless, was about to be hauled away for two weeks of constant restraints and punishments. An aching jaw was only a part of the wonderfully erotic adventure she was about to embark upon.
In the days before this momentous morning, Ken had lain awake in bed, Colleen naked and cuddled next to him, trying to imagine what was going to happen to her. How would the staff from Chateau LeGrand transport her? All he knew was that she would be tightly bound for the trip, and he had volunteered to have that done and ready when she was picked up. But, as to the other details of her transportation, he knew not. Nor did he know in any detail what would happen to her when she reached Chateau LeGrand. All he knew was that she would be kept in constant restraints, cared for, and punished under well-defined guidelines he had set down. And that all of this would be documented via photographs which would be mailed to him.
It was an incredibly exciting adventure, only Colleen had no idea it was about to happen. Ken smiled at her, then kissed her gently on the lips and ball gag.
Picking her up in his arms, he carried her bound nudity to the front room then set her on her feet by the front door. Checking his watch, he saw that it was almost time. Her departure was only minutes away. He backed off a few steps to see all of her, from bound ankles to gagged mouth. She was beautiful.
Colleen, for her part, was becoming puzzled. Ken has said that he was going to put her into tight bondage then have sex with her. That was not unusual for them, she liked the feeling of tight ropes around her body and he certainly enjoyed putting them there. She had frowned a bit when he tied her legs tightly together, but was not overly worried. That meant that she would not be ravished, as he had put it, with her legs spread. There were other ways, and she found it exciting to bent over a chair or the edge of the bed and taken from behind. Even with her legs bound together, a woman can have sexual intercourse performed in her pussy, the man entering from the back side. But she had to be bent forward to expose her sex for his entry.
She trilled as he bound her arms tightly behind her. Her elbows together behind her back was her favorite way of having her arms bound. She knew how good it made her look, and it really made her feel helpless. Then when he pushed the ball gag behind her mildly protesting lips and wedged it behind her teeth, she felt a shiver of excitement race down her spine. She loved being completely helpless and this morning he was making her just that. She wondered if he were going to take her out to the garage, tie a rope to her wrists, and then pull her arms up behind her until they were straight up and her head was down around her navel. This he had done before, and managed a fairly marvelous screwing of her vagina by entering from behind. She hoped that was what he had in mind.
But instead he carried her to the front room. What kinky plans did he have for her now, she wondered with more than a little sense of anticipation.
"Honey, I... Well, I've a little surprise for you," he began. The doorbell rang.
Colleen looked at the door with surprise in her eyes. She expected Ken to pick her up and get her out of the room before opening the door. Or to ignore whoever it was out there trying to spoil their fun. Instead he opened the door!
There were two men standing there, both dressed in business suits. "Mr. McMasters? I am George from Chateau LeGrand. He had a slight French accent but spoke excellent English."
"I'm McMasters," Ken answered, embarrassed beyond anything he would have expected. He knew these men were coming but to actually have them standing there, politely smiling, while his Colleen stood only a few feet away, naked, gagged and tightly bound up, and in plain sight, was almost too much.
"And this is Madam Colleen?" George asked with a slight bow in the direction of a blushing and very confused naked woman. "You are very beautiful."
Colleen squealed, filled with amazement at what was transpiring. Since Ken didn't seem upset, only embarrassed, she assumed it was something of his doing, but what she could not begin to guess. She had never seen these men before.
"If everything is ready, Lupe and I will begin," said George, turning back to Ken.
"A moment please," muttered Ken. He hurried to Colleen and took her in his arms. "Honey, I've made reservations for you at Chateau LeGrand." There was a lack of comprehension in her eyes. "Oh, it's a hotel for slavegirls. They'll treat you very nicely... Oh, I'm sorry I didn't take the time to explain."
Colleen was wiggling and trying to ask questions but only strange, almost frantic sounds were coming out.
"It's a hotel where they keep slavegirls for their Masters," he tried to explain. "You'll be kept tied up or chained all the time."
It sounded as if she were trying to say "twenty-fours a day," but Ken had to guess. The ball prevented any movement of the tongue and hardly any of the lips.
"Yes, twenty-four hours a day. Like some of the weekends we've done here and at the cabin. Only this time you'll be a slavegirl for two weeks..."
"Mmmmmgggghhhh?!"
Ken blushed mightily. "You'll like it, I know. Don't worry, you won't be harmed and you'll be returned to me at the end of two weeks. Just think of it as a vacation."
" Aaarrrrggghhhh!"
Ken kissed his puzzled wife then stepped back. Colleen kept switching her eyes from Ken to the two men, confusion and a little fear written on her face.
"Lupe, the case," said George. Then he stepped into the house and walked casually up to Colleen. While Lupe was rolling in a large wooden box held by a dolly, George inspected Colleen's bondage, from the ropes around her ankles up to the strap gag. "Very fine, Mr McMasters. Very fine ropework, indeed. I will not have to change a single strand."
Colleen stared at the handsome man with wide eyes.
"Honey, George here is going to pack you for the trip to Chateau LeGrand. I guess... I guess that box is for you."
Her eyes opened every wider, but of shock, terror or excitement it was hard to tell.
"That is true, Mrs. McMasters. You will be transported to the Chateau LeGrand in the manner befitting a captive, a true slavegirl. You will be completely immobile, silent, and escape will be quite impossible."
"They're professionals, dear," Ken said weakly. "They know what they're doing."
"Quite so. Slavegirls do not escape from Chateau LeGrand," George informed with a smile.
Lupe had the box setting on end. The lid was hinged and had two hasps on the opposite side, each with a large padlock. He opened the lid to reveal an inside that was padded on all edges with a rectangular depression in the middle about the size of Colleen. There were wide leather straps attached to the inside of the depression, eight in number.
Colleen stared in disbelief at the box and began shaking her head in negation. Lupe was spreading the straps wide to get them out of the depression.
"Oh, come on, dear, it's no worse than when I tied you up and locked you in that steamer trunk. Remember? You liked that."
Colleen glared at Ken in disbelief. Then she looked back at the box. She whined a bit.
"Lupe, if you will assist me?" said George. Then he placed his hands upon Colleen's bound arms. Lupe knelt and put his hands on her knees. Suddenly Colleen was picked up and carried to the box. Almost before she could react, she was laid inside the box, facing outward. These two men had strong hands and easily held the bound woman in place while they began applying the straps over her body. The first went around her tummy. While that one was going on, Lupe was placing the bottom most one around her ankles. He tightened that down quite firmly. The next strap went around her chest, just above the breasts. Lupe put another around her legs just below the knees.
Colleen was looking at Ken with an amazing expression on her face. Perhaps she thought this was all a big joke and any second Ken would begin laughing. She wouldn't put it past him to ask a couple friends she hadn't ever met to pretend to be from some fictitious "slave hotel" just as a big joke on her. But Ken looked so serious!
A second strap was around her chest, just below the breasts this time. Lupe was buckling one around her thighs just above her knees. Colleen whined.
Lupe buckled another around her hips as George was attaching the last one, this time around her neck. Then he went back and tightened down the tummy strap. Both men stood back.
Colleen was begging Ken with her eyes and pathetic moans. Suddenly she stopped and took a big sigh. "Rrraaaallllyyy?" she asked in what was the closest to an actual word that she had so far managed.
"Yes, darling. Really," replied Ken. "This is all for real."
Colleen looked to the two men who had just fixed her inside the box. They both had polite smiles on their faces but no trace of laughing at her. Then she believed.
A remarkable change came over the lovely young woman. The fear left her eyes to be replaced by a glow that was positively demonic. She struggled and tried to jerk her body around. The ropes and straps proved too much, she could not move at all. Only her head could roll an inch or so from side to side, all other movement was denied her. Ken noticed her breathing increasing and a blush beginning on her neck, both signs that she was becoming sexually excited. He smiled and knew then that she was accepting this and finding the whole idea as stimulating as it was to him.
"I should have told you sooner," Ken offered, "but it just seemed appropriate that you be told while completely helpless and about to be carried off."
Colleen nodded. Her eyes forgave him. There was also an excitement that he had ever seen before in those deep blue orbs. He stepped forward and gently kissed the gagged lips. "I love you."
Colleen tried to kiss back but was very handicapped. Words were not within her power but her eyes said quite eloquently that she loved him, too. And that she thanked him for giving her this adventure.
Lupe put his hand upon the lid. "You can see that there is sufficient air holes next to the face," George pointed out. "She will have no trouble breathing."
"I see. How long?"
"From here, about eight hours driving. Add another half hour until she is inside and freed of these restraints. Maybe a little more if the traffic is heavy." George seemed to be discussing the mailing of a letter across town, not the transport of a naked captive. "I would say that she will be receiving her welcome punishment in about ten hours. Each new guest who is to receive punishments gets the first almost immediately upon arrival."
Colleen let out with a sound that was something like an "Eeeck!"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, dearest, you'll be punished each day. It's part of the program for you. But nothing serious.
Don't worry."
Colleen looked worried for a second or two, then sighed again.
Ken stood to one side and watched with fascination as the lid closed. His last image was of very erect nipples moving up and down with each panting breath, and the excitement in her eyes. Then the lid was closed and the two men busy locking the hasps with solid clicks of padlocks.
"You noticed that the inside of the lid was also padded," George said. "That fabric can breath so she won't become over heated." He paused to tilt the box while Lupe slide the bottom of the dolly under it. "It is dark in there," he continued, "but I've been told rather comfortable. She will be able to feel and hear but not talk, move or see a thing. One time we had a guest whose Master wished her to spend twenty-three out of every twenty-four hours in such a shipment box. We watched her carefully, but she seemed to manage her stay with us very well. Each day we let her out of the box for one hour. It was a specially constructed box, but basically as you see here. She started out being very grateful for the hour she was allowed to walk around. But by the time her stay with us was up, she wouldn't walk far from the box and actually begged to be put back in it before her hour was up."
"Wow," was all Ken could manage.
"Quite." George held the door for Lupe to roll the box outside. Ken could see Lupe taking the box up to a van with the back door open. "You need not worry. We know what we're doing. She does not know it, but there are monitors inside that box. From the front of the van I can tell her heart beat, respiration rate, and even hear what sounds she is making. If she seems to be in any kind of distress, we will check on her immediately. But none of the slavegirls have ever had problems." George chuckled. "In fact, most enjoy the trip. I'm sure your wife will, she is obviously the kind that enjoys such treatment."
"Wouldn't surprise me if she's nearly having an orgasm right now," said Ken sardonically. "Perhaps," said George with a smile. "It happens."
"Really?' "Of course. Remember, I'm monitoring her physical reactions all the time. I can tell when a woman is having an orgasm. It happens more times than not."
George offered his hand and Ken shook it. He seemed a little bewildered himself, now that his plans were actually being carried out.
"Your orders will be obeyed explicitly, Sir," he said formally. "You should receive your video tape of the welcoming punishment in two or three days."
"Thank you."
George left. Ken stood by the front door, an incredible mixture of emotions racing around his mind, as the van carrying his love off to an adventure few women would ever experience. When the van was out of sight, he sighed and went back inside. It was going to be a long two weeks for Ken.
7
Kidnapping!
Whistling a happy tune, Mark Piffer walked into his house. Everything was going perfectly and it was a very fine day to be alive. Outside his wife, Mary Ellen, was lounging by the pool, her admittedly fine body shown off very well by tiny string bikini. She knew she was good looking and enjoyed taunting men with that body. Even her husband, now that she had him caught with a ring on his finger and another through his nose, was no exception. He had come up to her as she lay by the pool and began to touch her breasts. She slapped his hand and told him curtly that out in the back yard was no place for that kind of thing, and, besides, she was sunbathing. Like a little boy he backed off, looking hurt. She then reached up and untied the tiny string of the top and took it off, exposing the tiny bit of her breasts that had been covered (mostly just the nipples). It was both to prevent tan lines and to tease him. She enjoyed that.
She might not have felt quite so smug had she seen the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he turned to go to the house. Inside, out of the hot sun, he went to a phone and made a call.
"She's going to be driving to San Marcos tonight, leaving here at 7 pm," he told the man who answered. "Yes, the address I gave you. Good. Thank you."
As he put the phone down, Mark Piffer was a more content and relaxed man than he had been in months. He skipped up the marble steps to the bedroom to select an outfit that he would look good in. He was going to be dining at Donotello's and wanted to look good. He hoped everyone would notice him. He made a mental note to tip the waiter an extra large amount so the man would remember him. It would be nice to have some people who would swear that he was miles away from the place where his wife was kidnapped.
He whistled a little louder as he set out his best slacks and a comfortable blue shirt with a small polo pony over the pocket.
It came as a surprise. Mary Ellen Piffer had just pulled into the driveway of her mother's house and was standing by the car when a man came up behind her. Suddenly a hand was over her mouth and another holding her right wrist firmly behind her. A second man opened the door and she was pushed inside where another surprise awaited her.
Her mother, a good looking woman in her early forties, was sitting in a chair in the middle of the front room, tightly lashed to the stout chair by numerous windings of course hemp rope. Mary Ellen would have uttered a loud protest but the strong male hand was clamped over her mouth and there was little she could do about anything.
Quickly, and with skilled hands, the two men bound Mary's arms behind her back, using white cotton rope rather than the brown manila rope that had been used on her mother. With two strong men working together, it was a very short time before the young lady was secured with ropes holding her arms together behind her back, elbows together, and ropes around her legs at the ankles and above her knees. In the brief second after the male hand left her mouth and a rubber ball gag was inserted, Mary Ellen Piffer had the chance to utter but one curse word, rather unlady-like as it were, and then was silent save for the much fainter cries that escaped from her nose and around the ball.
She was dumped on a large coffee table and her legs bent up. Quickly her ankles were secured to her wrists in a pretty tight hogtie. In the struggle, her blouse had ripped a bit, partly exposing one breast with its attendant blue lacy bra. Her skirt had also ridden up until it was bunched around her hips, exposing matching blue lace panties for all to see.
For a few minutes, as she lay on the table, Mary had a moment to catch her breath and notice what was happening. She knew that she was really bound, partly from the few times she had allowed Mark to bind her, and from the tightness of those ropes. She looked at her mother and was appalled to see that the woman was very cruelly bound to the chair. Mary could see that her wrists were locked behind the back of the chair with a pair of handcuffs, with rope tied through the linking chain and down to the ankles which were under the chair. The coarse rope was very tightly bound around the woman, holding her quite solidly to the chair. She was also gagged with a ball gag. Apparently she had been swimming when surprised for she was still wearing a bikini which showed off her still pretty good figure. Her eyes begged an explanation from her daughter but Mary could offer none.
The men returned, carrying a trunk between them. As they put the trunk down on the floor and opened the lid, Mary noted that they wore masks covering their faces. She also noted that the lid had a large hasp and a padlock. Then she was lifted, a wiggling, protesting bundle of curves, and deposited into the trunk. The floor was hard and she could feel all four sides pressing against her as she lay on her stomach. The trunk was really only a little bigger than she - when hogtied.
The men wasted no time. They closed the lid, locked it firmly in place, and carried it out to their van. Mother's last view of her daughter was as the trunk lid pushed her toes down and was then carried out the door. She heard the van start up and drive away, leaving her confused and worried.
She struggled but quickly found out that the ropes were very tight, well placed and impossible to loosen. And those handcuffs didn't help, either. But she continued to struggle and would for a long time. She knew that the next person who would come to her house would be the cleaning lady on Monday morning. And that was two days away!
Mark Piffer checked his watch just before the desert was served. Donotello's was crowded and he had gotten up to greet several people he knew, helping to establish his presence in the restaurant. It was late enough and, if all had gone well, his wife was tightly bound up and in a trunk being driven towards a fate she could never possibly imagine.
He smiled to himself. It had been a stroke of genius when he told the Chateau LeGrand person that it was a fantasy of his wife's that she be kidnapped and held by terrorists. And that her mother, upon hearing of a planned stay by Mary Ellen as a guest of Chateau LeGrand, wanted to be part of the action. He chuckled to himself as he remember how he had explained that they would be play-acting and probably put up a pretty good fight. He had been assured that the two men who went to pick up Mary Ellen were experts and subduing two females would be no problem. And that they were also well experienced at such play-acting scenes.
Mark had even gone so far as to tell them that Mary's mother had specifically requested that she be tied with rough manila rope rather than the cotton rope that would be used on Mary. He thought that it was a nice touch and hoped that the old witch would enjoy it for the entire weekend. Of course, he had told the Chateau LeGrand that he would go up and free the woman, himself, so she would spend only a couple hours tied that way. He had laughed as he explained to them that Mary's mother had wanted to stay tied up all night but he had overridden her with a more modest proposal of three or four hours.
He got a good chuckled out of that. Imagine that he would go up to release that old witch from her suffering! He wished it would go on forever, but he knew that there was a cleaning lady who would come sooner or later. His only regret was that could not see her suffering all those long, lonely hours of tight restraint.
Well, as he enjoyed the first bite of dessert, he was comforted by the images in his mind of poor mamma struggling against hopeless odds, and his poor wife thinking that she was kidnapped. He hoped that she would have an uncomfortable ride. It would be about ten hours long, he had been told, and that pleased him.
He would have to call the police on Monday when he wife didn't return from her little weekend visit at her mother's. And he would have to play the worried husband, but that was, he realized with a grin, why he had taken all those acting classes in college. He didn't know at the time just how useful they would come in.
Of course, the people of Chateau LeGrand would be unhappy when they discovered that they had become accomplices to a real kidnapping, but he didn't worry about that too much. He had a plan to cover that when it happened.
8
How to Transport an Obedient Slavegirl
Janet, like any well-trained slavegirl, meekly accepted her husband's statement that she was going to be taken away to spend two weeks in a hotel that specialized in keeping and training slavegirls. Perhaps she did not believe him, but she was so very meek and submissive that she didn't express any disbelief openly. And, perhaps she was thinking as she knelt on the carpet at his feet, naked as usual and with wrists crossed and bound behind her back, as usual, that if he was serious, that was fine with her. If her lord and master wished her to spend two weeks in a slave hotel, she would obey. His happiness was her only wish.
Robert Walker had expected some reaction at the news, but Janet had said nothing. Perhaps her breathing increased a bit, and maybe her nipples became slightly more rigid, but it was hard to tell. Robert was disappointed a bit, but this lack of reaction was not out of character for his little slavegirl. He looked at her long legs bend double and under her and wondered if he had time to order her to spread those lovely legs wide and have a quickie right there on the carpet of the front room before the men came for her.
Then he looked at her pert, young breasts and wished he had time to put some clothespins on them so he could watch her trying very hard not to move but failing under the onslaught of the pain. He often made her stand in the middle of the bedroom, naked and with hands bound behind her back, while she suffered the burning pain of clothespins on those lovely nipples.
It was an exciting dance she did as she wiggled and swayed her body in uncontrollable reactions to the biting of the wooden beasts. And the way her breathing became panting and the wooden clothespins danced up and down with each pant was a lovely sight.
But there wasn't time for those games.
"You'll be there two weeks," he continued. "You'll be kept in constant restraints, usually bound with ropes, but I'm asked them for a variety. And you'll be trained to be even more obedient than you are now. When you return, there are some degrading sexual activities that even you would balk at now, but that you'll do gladly and eagerly. I'm looking forward to that."
Still she said nothing, did not even acknowledge his statements. The bowed head remained down turned.
As he pondered what more to say, the door bell rang.
The two men from Chateau LeGrand were dressed in business suits and extremely polite. They were shown to where Janet knelt with rigid back and bowed head. She was guided to her feet where she stood with bowed head as the men changed her bondage. The crossed wrists were untied and re-tied with the palms together. Then the elbows were corded together. Tightly. Her legs were bound but only at the knees. As one man tied the ropes above her knees, the other wrapped more windings around her arms and chest, above and below the breasts. And more around her tummy, the effect of which was to pin her arms to her back. The only movement still allow her arms was to wiggle her fingers if she wished to. She did not move them at all.
Then a ball gag was placed at her lips. For the first time in this proceedings she lifted her eyes to her husband and master, and uttered the only words she could, "Whatever you wish, Master." Then she opened her mouth wide to accept the ball gag. Once it was tightly strapped in place, a coat was brought forth. It was a long coat, reaching down to below the knees, and possessing a hood. It was placed around the naked woman and buttoned up. Then the hood was placed over her head. Nothing of the bondage could be seen, and the gagged mouth with those soft lips showed only if you were directly in front of her and close. A pair of shoes were added to her feet.
The leader of the two men lifted one eyebrow in an unasked question and Robert nodded agreement. The man guided the slavegirl towards the door. A minute later she was gone. Robert sat down in his easy chair and closed his eyes. In his mind, he could see one of the men binding her ankles together as she sat in the back seat of the car, then placing restraining strap over her thighs and around her chest. They were like seat belts but much more secure and much more tight. He had been told of the way his Janet would be secured for the journey and approved. She was a very docile slavegirl and would give them no trouble, so it was not necessary that she be boxed up or loaded into a trunk as was custom with many of the guests of Chateau LeGrand.
Robert smiled slightly as he recalled the final touch those men would apply to Janet as she sat there so helpless. He had given the order and knew that Janet would obey it. Just before closing the back door of the car, one of the men would order Janet to bow her head and keep it bowed until told she could raise it. He smiled at the thought of his lovely wife/slavegirl riding to a fate most women would hate, and keeping her head submissively bowed all the time.
It was nice to own such an obedient slavegirl. He would miss her while she was gone. There would be no smooth, round ass to whip each night before bedtime. No tight, hot pussy to screw after that whipping. Robert hadn't thought about that part - what he would be missing.
Before the car bearing his wife and slavegirl had driven two miles, Robert was on the phone to some of his old girlfriends. He did not intend to be lonely during the next two weeks.
9
Like Mother, Like Daughter
Susan Pager, better known as Susie, was bored out of her mind. Only a few weeks before she had graduated from high school and already many of her friends had departed from town. The summer promised to be a real bummer, long and boring. And Mommy dearest wanted her to go to college in the fall. Not that she minded that, it would probably be fun. But in the meantime several long months stretched out before her with little to break the monotony.
The only bright hope in a dim galaxy of boredom was her eighteenth birthday, only a week away. She hoped with all that was in her that finally her mother would break down and allow her to experience what it would be like to be tied up with massive amounts of rope, extremely tight and totally helpless. And to sample the delights she was sure lay in wait in the dungeon basement. She could hardly wait until she could become a bondage model like her mother.
Susie lay on her bed, butt up against the wall and legs stretched straight upward. As usual, she was thinking about all those photos and magazines she had seen her mother modeling in. And a couple of tapes she had found in the den, also showing her mother starring in well-made videos with little of no story line but a great deal of fantastic, incredibly exciting looking bondage. Oh, how she longed to be the girl in those photos and videos, to feel the tight ropes upon her body and to struggle with all her might in futile and hopeless efforts to escape.
She remembered the few times she had asked her friends to tie her up. There were a couple of boyfriends she dated who were happy to oblige, undoubtedly anticipating exploring her fine body with impunity once she was helpless. But they lacked the skills demonstrated on the videos, and Susie was able to wiggle free easily. It was a big disappointment to her, and a bigger on to the poor boys who went home that night with not so much as a quick feel of ass for their efforts.
What had worked better, but still only wetted her appetite, was the couple occasions when her girlfriend, Jill, had tied her up. Jill, unlike the boys, knew what she was doing. Susie never asked where her friend had learned how to tie another girl very tightly and securely, she just lay back and enjoyed it. But even through those all too rare times were better than the failures with her boyfriends, Susie was still left hungry for something. Jill was fair at binding her hands behind her back, but little else. Susie liked what happened but it was far short of those glorious photos and videos. How could just having your hands bound behind you while you were fully dressed compare with being naked, arms tightly bound behind your back with elbows together, and hanging by your ankles from a rafter in the garage. She could remember seeing her mother's long hair sweeping the concrete floor as she swung back and forth, all caught by the camera.
All those years that her mother could have been tying her up played upon her mind. She didn't want much, just to be tied up and left alone for a while. She wouldn't be any trouble, she wouldn't get in the way, she'd simply be a part of the scenery. If mommy didn't want to let her into the dungeon downstairs, then she would be happy being tied up in her own room. There was a stout bed with a head and foot board quite solid enough to tie a girl to. If only mommy had simply hogtied her now and then! She would happily have spent many hours rolling around on her bed if her mother would let her.
With a sigh, Susie rolled over to lay on her stomach on the bed. Dare she bring up the subject once again with mommy? Her mother had managed to put her off with the old, "wait until you're older" bit. But she was within hours of being eighteen, and how old did she have to be to enjoy some of the pleasures of being an adult? Surely if she were old enough to vote, drive a car, and sign contracts, she must be old enough to be tied up!
She was about to get up when there came a knock on her door. A second later her mother entered.
"Doing anything, Susie?" asked Tanya.
"No, Mom. There's not much to do."
"Well, I have a surprise for you." Mrs. Pager crossed to the bed and sat down next to Susie. She was smiling. "Philip and I are going to be going to Europe for a few weeks, sort of a little vacation."
Big deal, thought Susie. Mommy gets to be screwed and probably tied up all over Europe while I don't get anything.
"We could leave you here," Tanya continued. "You're old enough to take care of yourself. But since your birthday is coming up, I decided on a present for you."
Here it comes, thought Susie. I'll get to go along and stay in hotel rooms while mommy gets screwed by that airhead hunk Philip in the next room.
"While we're gone to Europe, you'll be the guest of a very special hotel. It's a bondage hotel." Suddenly Susie sat up and paid attention. "It's a special place where the guests are all slavegirls and such. Each one is kept under constant restraints. Would you like that?"
"You mean you're sending me to a place where they keep girls tied up all the time!" Susie said with more than a little disbelief in her voice.
"That's right. It's called Chateau LeGrand, and that's all they do. The letters Philip got from them describe how they have rooms that are actually cells with iron bars and everything. And they have dungeons, real ones. And the staff are all experts at tying up girls and keeping them prisoners. Would you like that?"
Susie swallowed hard. This was even better than being tied up in the basement by her mother. This was a chance to be tied up by experts and be shown off in front of all kinds of strangers! She swallowed again and asked, "How will I be dressed?"
Tanya sighed. She knew exactly what was on her daughter's hormone-driven little mind. "You'll be naked at all times," she said. "I could have told them to keep you in most any kind of outfit but I figured that you would like to be naked."
"And will I be hurt? Do they really know how to tie a girl up? As good as Daddy used to tie you?"
Tanya smiled faintly. "Yes, from the photos they sent, the do know how to do it well. And as to being hurt... How do you feel about that? I can tell them not to do a thing to you, just keep you tied up or chained all the time. Or I can tell them to punish you. They said that they can punish a girl in many ways, from a mild spanking to real torture. Would you like some punishment every day?"
Susie paused to think about that one. "Could you tell them to punish me in ways that make me feel more helpless?"
"I guess I could. But I'll tell them that you are not to be really hurt. I guess a spanking wouldn't do you any harm. Tell you what. I'll tell them that you should be punished with extra tight, extremely strict bondage only. And maybe a few spankings thrown in. How's that?"
"Oh, Mommy, that would be wonderful!" Susie launched herself towards her mother and wrapped her arms around her neck. "Oh, Mommy, thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Well, you may find out that it's not what you think."
"What do you mean?"
"You've never been tied real tight and for a long period," Tanya said. "It can become very uncomfortable just from the ropes and immobility. I know."
Susie didn't tell her mother that she had been tied by Jill for as long as an hour at a time. Besides, that didn't count anyway because it was not the same as what was being presented to her now. "I'm sure you do know all about that, Mommy."
"I've never talked to you about it because I didn't want to encourage you to do the same things I did simply because your mother did them. But I guess you want to try all those things because you really want it, not because I did it."
"That's right, Mom. I've seen those photos of you and the videos and really want to be the girl in them. It's not because that girl was you, it's because I get all excited when I see any girl tied up."
"Well, you'll get your chance. You're going to be a guest at Chateau LeGrand for two weeks. During that time you'll be constantly tied with some rest periods where you'll simply be chained. That's the kind of program I told them to set up for you. At the end of that time, you'll either hate it or love it for the rest of your life. Either way, you'll know for sure."
"I'm sure I'll love it!" exclaimed Susie. "Thank you."
"Just remember you asked for it when you're painfully bound up and your bottom is getting all hot and sore. Or when your muscles are all stiff and sore and ache, and you know that you still have two hours before they come to untie you."
"I will, oh, I will."
"Okay. Then it's settled. You'll go to Chateau LeGrand." "Great! I'll get packed. When do I leave?" Tanya smiled. "As to packing, there is no need. You'll be naked, remember?" "Gosh! I'd forgotten that already."
"I'm sure you'll be very aware of it all the time you're there. I can remember being naked and tied up before a whole camera crew for hours on end. It's a bit too much for some women but I think you'll thrive on it."
"I'm sure I will."
"You leave this afternoon. In half an hour, in fact."
"Oh, so soon! Is there anything I have to do? No clothes! Wow! How am I going to get there? Where is this place? When does the tying up start?"
"Whoa! Slow down. There's only one thing you have to do. When the men from Chateau LeGrand come to pick you up, you have to be naked and tied up. They told me that they would tie you, or that I could do it. I told them that I would do it. So your bondage starts now. As to how you'll get there, I don't really know. Except that they said you would be completely helpless all the time. And as to where the place is, you shouldn't really care. You'll be a constant prisoner, not a tourist wandering around the country side."
"Oh, gosh, this is so exciting." The teenager's eyes were glowing and she could hardly keep still. "This is great. Oh, thank you, Mom."
Tanya Pager sighed. But it was a sigh of contentment. She had a good feeling inside about all this. Perhaps she had been wrong to keep her daughter from enjoying the same things that she enjoyed. Well, that mattered little now. Her daughter was truly happy and that was what counted. She wondered if Susie would still be as happy during the fifth hour of a tight hogtie as she was now. Probably.
Susie stood up and faced her mother. Her fingers went to the top button of her blouse. They were trembling a little bit. "Do I... Now...?"
Tanya nodded. Susie smiled and began unbuttoning the blouse. Soon it was laying on the bed, along with her bra, jeans and shoes. As the panties were coming down, Tanya rose to her feel. "I'll be right back," she told Susie and left.
When she returned it was to find Susie's clothing all out of the way and the teenager kneeling on the bed. Her back was straight and her head bowed. Her hands were resting in her lap. She was breathing faster than normal and her nipples, while perhaps not quite full grown, were hard with excitement.
"You can get up now," said Tanya. Susie did and her eyes grew large when she saw the ropes in her mother's hands. "Turn your back to me."
Susie did, pulling her arms behind her to make it easy for her mother. With fingers that hadn't done it in years, Tanya looped rope around the small wrists. In all the years of modeling and private playing, she had learned a lot about how to tie up a girl, mostly by being tied but sometimes by actually tying another woman. She knew what she was doing. The rope work might not be quite as tight or neat as when her former husband did it, but it would hold a teenager girl prisoner, and that was what counted. She wrapped some rope around the half dozen loops on the wrists and pulled those cinch loops tight. The main wrapping tightened up very nicely. Then she tied a couple knots up between the arms where youthful fingers couldn't reach them.
Susie was so excited she could hardly stand still yet she made a effort to do so. Finally, after years of dreaming about it, she was being tied up in the manner she wanted. She felt the ropes digging in and knew that her mother wasn't going to go easy on her. Not that she wanted to be babied. She wanted to be tied as tightly and secure as she had seen her mother tied.
The next rope looped the elbows and pulled them in. Being young, slender and flexible, the elbows came together easily. Tanya looped the rope around just above them, then cinched it down and knotted it.
Susie giggled. "It feels so good," she said. "It's so tight. And look what it does to my breasts!"
Tanya glanced at her daughter's breasts and sighed again. This girl was going to have as full a figure as she had, maybe even a little larger. Not that there was anything lacking now. Those breasts were full, firm as only a teenager's can be, and sticking right out. Remembering some of her lesbian friends, Tanya felt the urge to put her lips to those nipples and suck them. But she suppressed down the desire. She didn't know if lesbian love between mother and daughter was wrong or sinful or anything, but she thought it better not to get anything like that started. She would think about it. Maybe when Susie returned... And if she were hooked on bondage and the kinky life as much as Tanya suspected she would be...
As Susie admired herself in the mirror, Tanya picked up the rest of the ropes from the bed. "We'll have to go downstairs now," she said gently.
"Philip's not down there, is he?" asked Susie with a strange gleam in her eye.
"No, I sent Philip away. He's not going to see you naked. Nor get his hands on you. He's mine. And he would be too much for a young thing like you."
"If you say so, Mommy," said Susie with a giggle.
"I say so. Now walk downstairs, they'll be here any minute."
Downstairs Susie's legs got tied together at the ankles and above the knees. Susie looked at the tight ropes around the ankles then at the loops that were only firm around her legs. "Aren't those a little loose, Mom?"
"They'll tighten up when you bend your legs," Tanya replied.
"I'm going to get hogtied?!"
"Yes. Now roll over on your stomach."
In a minute Susie was hogtied on the couch. Her mother was amazed to find that the youth girl was even more flexible than she had been at that age. Tying her hands to her ankles would not have been much strain for the teenager, so Tanya changed the position of the linking rope so the rope from the ankles went to the elbows, with the hands being tucked under the legs. It made a nice, tight package and didn't seem to bother the teenager much at all.
"Gosh, this is tight! It feels soooo good, Mother." Susie gave a little wiggle and tried to explore with her fingers. But there was nothing much she could do with her body so bound and her hands pressed between her legs. "Oh, I don't think I can get out of this! Not in a thousand years!"
"They should be here any minute," said Tanya, picking up the ball gag she was donating from her private collection. "But I'll leave the gag off until they come. We can talk."
"Oh, Mommy, this is so exciting! You say that I'll be tied up all the time?"
"Most of the time. It would be very hard on even your young body to be hogtied twenty-four hours a day. For an hour or two every day you won't be tied. But you will be chained or handcuffed so you'll still be a prisoner."
"Great!"
"I've told them to give you a variety of bondage positions. You'll probably get to try a new one every day." "Wonderful!"
"I think you'll get tired of it. Well, maybe... I used to love being tied up for hours, even all night. Your Father knew just how tight to tie a girl so she could be utterly helpless but still survive the whole night like that. I spent many a night tied up in our bed. Or in the dungeon."
"Oh, Mommy, please tell me about those times. I want to know all about it."
"We don't have time now. Perhaps when you return we can talk more. I should have been more willing to talk to you about this. But I wanted so badly to make sure that you weren't just interested because I liked it."
"I'd like to talk to you about all this," Susie said simply. Then she grinned and added, "How long does it take before this hogtie gets to being horrible?"
"All depends on you. I used to be able to take several hours tied like you are before it began to get to me. More than once I spent all night in a hogtie not much looser than what you're in. I can tell you that I was pretty stiff by morning!"
"Mommy... Is feeling scared a part of all this?"
"Yes, dear. I often felt scared. It's part of being helpless. And in your case not knowing what is going to happen to you. I can remember the first time your Father tied me up. My heart was pounding like mad, I was so scared. But it was also incredibly exciting. When he made love to me, it was incredible. I came and came almost immediately. And he kept pumping away in me until I must have orgasmed a dozen times."
Tanya suddenly stopped and blushed. "Well, you'll understand some day." She touched her daughter's cheek gently. "You'll find a man who you'll love. And he'll be really great with the ropes. I think that's the only kind of man you could ever love." Suddenly she frowned a bit. "You are a virgin, aren't you? I mean, when I tell you that some day you'll experience what I'm talking about - you haven't already, have you?"
"No, Mom. I'm still a virgin. Although sometimes it's hard to do. And I'm looking forward to lovemaking. But you're right. It will have to be a man who can tie my as good as Daddy did you."
For a few seconds neither of them spoke. It was Susie who broke the silence. "Mom, before you gag me, I just wanted to say thank you again."
There was a knock on the door. "Well, I guess that's them.
I'll have to gag you now."
Just before the ball was shoved into the youthful mouth to wedge behind the teeth and press the tongue down, Susie said simply, "I love you." Then her mouth was filled and the strap being buckled behind her head. Tanya buckled it very tightly, not to be unkind, but to assure that the ball stay in the mouth. She remembered how she had managed to push some balls out if the straps weren't really tight.
There were two men from Chateau LeGrand, neatly dressed and pushing in a box between them. It was much like the box that had been used to crate up Mary Piffer, of stout wood, a hinged and lockable lid. And it was almost exactly the same size as the girl. Which it should have been for it had been custom made from her measurements. Tanya watched as the two men lowered her daughter into the box. The teenager was wiggling in excitement, and Tanya understood how she felt. She remembered the first time she had been lowered into a box. She had also been hogtied and naked, and the box wasn't much larger then she was. She remembered the hard wooden sides and darkness closing in as the lid was lowered. Also how incredible alive she was at that moment, feeling fear, apprehension, discomfort, and sexual excitement all at the same time. She saw those same feelings reflected in the eyes of her daughter.
Then the lid was closed and she could see Susie's nude form no longer.
"There are air holes," assured one of the men.
"I checked," replied Tanya. "I've been in a box myself." The neatly dressed man lifted one eyebrow half an inch but said nothing. "How long will she be in transit?"
"If traffic to the airport is good, an hour there, four hours on the plane, and another hour ground transportation there. About six hours all told."
"She's young," said Tanya with confidence. "She can take it."
"I'm sure she can," said the man as he helped lift the box and carry it out.
"Please come back when you have the box in place," said Tanya. The man nodded and then they were gone, taking her daughter with them. A dozen minutes later the first man returned.
"Do you check on her?" asked Tanya.
"I did not want to say so where she might be able to hear, but there are monitors within the box, in a thin false floor. I will be checking on her breathing, and listening to her. She will be checked on. But you need not fear, she is young and we have transported many women in this manner. By the way, you did a very nice job in binding her."
"Thank you."
"Most people don't not know how to tie a girl. You have done very nicely. Well, if there is nothing else, I'll be going."
"Please tell Master Fredrick that I have chosen Plan Two. We've discussed this and that is the program I wish for her."
"It will be done."
"And one other thing before you go..." "Yes, Ma'am?"
Tanya explained. The man was not surprised by her request and said that he would do it after telling his companion that he would be delayed a few minutes. When he returned, Tanya was just divesting herself of her bra. It joined her blouse laying on the couch. She had already kicked her shoes off. "This way," she said when he walked back in. He closed the front door and followed Tanya down the hall.
When the polite man from Chateau LeGrand left, Tanya was in no condition to see him to the door so he had to let himself out. Back in the bedroom, where Philip was sure to find her when he returned that evening, Tanya was tightly bound up with many ropes expertly applied to her naked body. It might have been a number of years since she modeled, but her figure was still that of a woman in her prime. The full breasts and long legs were most definitely attractive to men.
She had requested a position that would be rather uncomfortable for the four or five hours that she expected to have to wait until Philip showed up. But it was what she wanted after her talk with her daughter. It amazed her but the act of binding her daughter's arms and legs had been incredible exciting to her, probably as much as it had been to the teenager. Many memories flooded back during their talk, making her horny and more than ready for some tight ropes. She had tossed off her clothes and handed the man ropes, then turned her back and told him how to bind her arms - in exactly the same manner as she had tied Susie's only minutes before. The man did as he was told.
Then Tanya lay down on the bed and crossed her legs at the ankles. Under her direction the ankles had been bound together, then a rope passed up to the wrists and pulled until the feet were pulled up to the hands. That made her knees spread wide in a version of the hogtie that she had always liked. The next step was for him to turn her over. Then she told him to tie ropes around her waist and down under the bed and up the other side. He was to repeat that until her waist was firmly lashed down. Then he could leave. She thanked him very much and wished him a safe journey with her daughter.
The position Tanya had requested was not an easy one for any woman. Her arms were tightly bound with elbows together and under her back. Her legs were spread wide at the knees with the feet pulled up until her fingers were resting on the ankles. And the ropes around the bed held her down. She could not even roll on her side, let along flip over. She would have to lay there, breasts and wide open pussy exposed completely, arms hurting and legs held wide open. There was no way she could possibly free herself.
Tanya struggled a bit, but her heart was not really in it. Experience had taught her that a girl tied this way was helpless and that was all there was to it. No amount of struggling would free her from those tight ropes. She smiled to herself. It felt good to be tied that way again. Philip was a nice guy, and really great with that huge prick of his, but he lacked imagination. Until he met Tanya he had never tied up a girl. He still thought of bondage as simply tying the girl spread eagle on the bed and getting on with the screwing. Tanya had to provide all the instructions.
But tonight she would be screwed while tied the way she liked and after a long enough time to make her really feel helpless and suffering. When Philip came in and saw her like that, he would do exactly what she wanted. It didn't take much to get him excited.
The ropes were tight, just as she had ordered them. The position was extremely restrictive, just as she knew it would be. She sighed contentedly. Maybe she had been overly cautious when it came to letting Susie share these feeling. Well, be that as it may, she would make up for lost time when Susie came back from Chateau LeGrand. They had much to talk about and share. Perhaps Philip could be trained to bind both of them without taking liberties with Susie, but Tanya wasn't sure. So long as Philip could screw her, he would be happy, so he would probably leave Susie alone when Tanya told him to. If a naked and bound up teenager was looking on, that would only excite him more. He was the kind who loved an audience.
Tanya sighed and wondered if she would really go through with it. But she knew she would. Being tied up and screwed by Philip in front of her daughter, who would also be tied up, was too exciting to miss. Meantime she enjoyed the feeling of tight ropes and helplessness.
Like mother, like daughter.
10
Guests Arrive
The Chateau LeGrand is located in a remote portion of the Northern California coast. Originally it was a winery, but the soil and climate weren't perfect for grapes and the mediocre wines it produced weren't enough to keep it in business. Then a group of Frenchmen bought it out, keep the outside looking very much like the winery it had been, but converted the inside to a combination of luxury hotel and dungeon-filled castle. The cellars were emptied of their huge wine casks and converted into real dungeons and cells. Special areas were created amid the small grove of trees near the main buildings, areas with special devices for the imprisonment and punishment of young ladies, but all out of sight of anyone driving on any of the public roads, none of which came very near the Chateau. An unreasonably high fence was added around much of the main buildings, far taller and stouter than needed for a winery, but perfect for keeping the casual trespasser out. The old Spanish period buildings with the white abode walls and red clay bricks for roofs were kept, along with the central patios and numerous trees and grape vines.
When all was ready, the first "guests" came to Chateau LeGrand, California. The first were the slavegirls of masters and mistresses who had used the Chateau LeGrand in France, England, Russia and Germany. It amused them to send their slaves all the way to America for training or keeping. Perhaps it was only the idea of the poor slavegirls being crated and boxed up for a trip over the oceans, which, even by aircraft, often took the better part of a day. In some cases, the slaves were immobile in their crates for almost two days before finally being uncrated at the Chateau LeGrand, where different but ever-present restraints awaited them.
And a few came from America itself, the slaves of Americans who had been sending their possessions to Europe or care-taking or training.
Then the Chateau LeGrand placed very subtle advertisements. Tiny classified ads in the type of papers that might be read by people rich enough to own a slavegirl and pay the high prices expected by Chateau LeGrand. The use of a population-wide computer bulletin board system brought in very good results. Eventually the ads disappeared after a network of understanding people had been created. Thereafter, news of the Chateau LeGrand and its unique programs was spread only by word of mouth.
Into this pleasant California coastal valley one fine morning in early summer came four deliveries, three crated and boxed slavegirls, totally immobile and helpless in their portable prisons. And one docile slavegirl who came riding in the back seat of a car, nevertheless tightly bound and with head bowed. She had obediently kept her head bowed for the many long hours of the drive, and honestly did not know where she had been taken.
Master Fredrick and Mistress Monique were standing by when the first of the new guests arrived, and they watched as a crate was carried off the van and placed against the wall. Then the delivery van was driven away.
One of the two male staff members of the Chateau LeGrand who were standing by approached Master Fredrick. He was handed a key which he used to unlock the two padlocks holding the lid of the coffin-like box secured. As the lid was pulled back, a naked young woman was revealed, blinking at the sudden light. She was beautiful as she lay in the padded cushions of the box, wide leather straps holding her tightly in, with just the hint of ropes under the straps holding her body in additional bondage. The men set about unbuckling the straps. As each strap came off, more of the rope bondage underneath was revealed until the naked woman was shown to be totally bound and still helpless even with the straps now gone from her body. The two men lifted her from the padded cell and placed her on her feet, but needed to continue supporting her for her legs didn't seem to be able to keep her balance.
Off to the side, another staffer recorded the arrival of the guest on video tape since most masters and mistresses wished to have a record of what was happening to their slaves.
Master Fredrick turned over a page on the clipboard in his hand, then read to Mistress Monique from the sheet there. "Colleen McMasters. Sent by her husband as a reward. Punishments level 3, restrictions, rope ninety percent of the time, bondage level 5. She has been confined in that box for just short of eleven hours now."
"That's not much," remarked Mistress Monique with a slight trace of French accent. Fredrick's accent betrayed his country of origin as Germany. "She must not have lived far away. Experience?"
"Considerable, according to her husband. He specified a bondage level of 5, and that, as you know, dear Mistress Monique, is not used for beginners."
Mistress Monique smiled. "I'll look forward to testing her with ropes," she purred. The fact that this slavegirl Colleen had a most pleasing body was a good part of her interest. Mistress Monique, as many of the guests of the Chateau LeGrand found out, was lesbian to the core. "Lez level?" she asked, hoping for a favorable answered.
Master Fredrick laughed. "Level 4," he said. "Not to be forced into activity unless willing, but most else allowed," he explained needlessly for Mistress Monique who knew the lesbian activity rankings quite well. The tip of her tongue ran over her lips. This was a delicious guest and she would schedule some personal attention as soon as possible.
Before them, most of the ropes had been removed from Colleen, leaving deep red indentions where they had dug into her flesh. The gag was left in her mouth, but would soon enough be removed. While one man held her on her feet, the other gathered the arms which had been hanging limp at her side, and locked them in handcuffs, the chainless kind. These were the preferred handcuffs of the Chateau LeGrand, quite heavy and solid, and with the two cuffs hinged directly together. They forced the wrists to be much closer than the conventional type with cuffs linked by a short chain, even closer than those pairs with only a single link. Most of the slavegirls admitted that the Chateau LeGrand handcuffs made them feel much more helpless than conventional police models.
A pair of leg irons were locked on her ankles, much like handcuffs in appearance but with larger, stouter cuffs and a longer chain to allow the prisoner wearing them to take short steps. Running would be out of the question, and even walking had to be done carefully lest the steel snub the ankles with each step.
Then the gag was unbuckled and pulled from the slave's mouth. The rubber ball did not want to come, or so it seemed. Colleen whined a bit as her jaw was able to close for the first time in many hours. With a healthy young woman like her, the aching in her jaw from that rubber silencer was probably the worst of the pain.
"Welcome to Chateau LeGrand," said Master Fredrick grandly. "Here you will be kept as a slavegirl is kept, constantly in restraints with escape impossible. You are welcome to test our restraints any time you wish. You will find them secure."
Colleen focused her eyes upon the man speaking to her for the first time. She seemed to still be unused to the light. But slowly an image formed, an image of a tall man, blonde hair cut short, and strong features. He was dressed in black leather from neck to toe, pants and long sleeved shirt.
Beside the man, smiling at her, Colleen made out a woman. Like the man, she was dressed in black, but this time a short leather skirt that left little of her long legs covered. The blouse was of satin, shinning in the bright lights of that room, and showing that this woman had curves in all the right places. Her feet were clad in thin high heels that clacked against the concrete floor as she walked. Her eyes were dark, almost as dark as the shinning raven hair that cascaded down her back all the way to her bottom. Her mouth was thin, almost pouting, but smiling faintly. Colleen looked into those dark eyes and felt something she did not understand. It was a stirring inside her, an erotic feeling tinged with a hint of fear. She only knew that she had never felt thus before, not in the presence of any woman.
"This is Mistress Monique. That is the only name you will ever call her," the man continued. "I am Master Fredrick. That is also the only name you will ever call me. Although you may come to think of us in different terms, you had best keep them to yourself."
The two of them walked around Colleen as if they were examining prize livestock. They did not touch her as she stood there, arms held just above the elbows by the two staff members, but they examined all parts of her body with their eyes. Finally they returned to the starting point.
"You will be treated with respect here," he began again. "All the respect due a fine quality slavegirl. Your master had ordered that you be kept in rope bondage the majority of the time you are here. And so it shall be. You will be allowed a few hours to recover from your shipment, then you will be bound with ropes in a manner designed to make you constantly aware of how helpless you are."
Mistress Monique noted the spark of life in this slavegirl's eyes at the mention of tight ropes and licked her lips again. She had some ideas that would test this fine young thing to her limit.
"You are also scheduled for medium punishments. They will not be pleasant but hardly extreme. Perhaps we will allow you to watch some of the guests who are scheduled for the higher levels of punishment."
Colleen, with a little difficulty controlling her still-aching jaw, spoke her first words, "I would like that."
With a wave of his hand, Master Fredrick dismissed the naked slavegirl, who was then escorted away by one of the staffers, his hand firm upon her arm.
"Quite nice, no?" asked Master Fredrick when shuffling steps had taken the newest slavegirl out of hearing range. "Quite nice."
"Fredrick, you know the rules about messing with any guest whose card does not allow sex with staff members."
"Quite so, my darling Monique, quite so. I won't be forcing my sexual attentions upon the pretty girl. I'll leave that to you."
Mistress Monique smiled acknowledgement. They both knew that she would, indeed, be paying special, personal attention to this new guest.
A minute later the next van entered the large barn that served as a garage and receiving area for Chateau LeGrand. From the back the driver and staff member removed another box, this one less coffin-like and more square. They placed it upon the concrete, then the driver got in the van and left. Once again the key was handed over from Master Fredrick after consulting his clipboard.
Just as the lock was undone and the lid about to be lifted, another van drove in. The first box was left by itself while a large trunk was taken out of the newest van. It was set down next to the wooden box.
Both containers proved to hold naked, hogtied women, one a teenager with innocent face and eyes glowing with excitement. The other was a woman in her early twenties but no taller than the teenage girl. Her eyes held a fire but not, it seemed, of excitement and delight.
"The teenager is Susie Pager," said Master Fredrick in a low voice. "She's the daughter of the famous bondage model, Tanya Pager. She's here as an eighteenth birthday present. Restraints: maximum rope bondage, level 6. Apparently her mother feels she can take as strict as bondage can be made. And, before you ask, she said that lesbian activity at level 5 is approved, you may train her. I'm sure that will please you."
"The young thing is pretty. And a good figure. Yes, for the sake of Chateau LeGrand, I'll undertake the difficult and laborious task of training her."
Master Fredrick snorted, but not in anger. He knew Monique was being sarcastic. "She's to have punishment level four but primarily by extreme bondage."
"Mommy really wants her to get the worst we can give when it comes to ropes, no?"
"Yes. It also says that she has almost no experience at being tied but a strong motivation. I would guess she wishes to follow in her mother's footsteps. You remember Tanya Pager, don't you."
"Oh, yes! I remember she was in some of the tightest, strictest bondage I've ever seen. She could take as rough as I've seen. She was good. I wonder if her daughter is nearly as good."
"I'm sure you'll find out."
Susie was lifted out of the wooden box that had been her home for many hours and placed on the concrete floor. She was hogtied in as compact of a hogtie as they had seen. "Look, Freddie, her ankles are actually tied to her elbows, not the wrists! See how her hands are actually buried between her legs. What a great hogtie!"
Master Fredrick had to admit that he had seldom seen a hogtie as good. To do that would take a very flexible young girl, and a lot of imagination. And to leave her tied that way for the many hours it had taken her to be transported to the Chateau LeGrand showed either a total disregard for the teenager's comfort or a very high regard for her ability to endure such rough treatment.
The staffer had untied the rope linking her ankles to her elbows, allowing the girl to unfold for the first time in a long time. Both Fredrick and Monique noted that she, although having just been through something that would exhaust most people, was attentive and looking around with interest. And the excitement in her eyes was evident. Her legs were untied and she was lifted to a standing position. Surprisingly, she was able to stand by herself as the ropes were taken from her arms.
Master Fredrick stepped forward and gave her the usual welcoming speech, noting that she was here to experience rope bondage in some of it's more extreme forms. He noted how she nodded at that statement, as if she were eager. Perhaps she was. She actually looked disappointed when the handcuffs and leg irons were attached and the ropes removed from her arms. The two overseers had the impression she would have been happier had she been left in that compact hogtie. Well, she would get back into ropes soon enough, they promised her.
As Susie was led away, attention returned to the contains of the other trunk. This girl was untied from the hogtie and helped to her feet where she stood uneasily, glaring at them with fire in her eyes.
Master Fredrick gave his speech and it was greeted with shakes of the head and whines of protest. The staffers, experienced at handling females who did not want to be handled, or at least pretended to, carefully locked the leg irons upon her feet before untying the ropes from her arms. Two of them held her arms during that short period when the ropes were gone but the handcuffs not yet locked in place. She could not have escaped, but she did try to kick one of them.
"She's really getting into the part," commented Fredrick to Monique. "Her name's Mary. She's been sent here for two weeks of heavy punishment with a option to extend. Apparently she's really into the scene of being forced against her will. The Master notes that she will undoubtedly resist constantly and be a real problem. He suggests a constant gag as well as above average restraints. And some of the punishments he's defined are pretty severe." He showed Monique the sheet.
"Wow!" she commented. "She must have been one really naughty slavegirl."
"Yes. Under lesbian activity, he's indicated full training. And he's even suggested lesbian punishments. We don't get that too often. You should be happy."
"I am. Oh, yes, I am."
By then Mary was chained by leg irons and handcuffs. Under Master Fredrick's direction, they added an additional pair of handcuffs linking her elbows together. Since her elbows didn't go together nearly as easily as Susie's had, this placed some strain upon her arms and caused the cuffs to cut into the skin some.
"Not only have you been sentence to some severe punishments here," Master Fredrick informed her, "you have just earned an additional one for trying to kick your keeper. Resistance will be met with punishment at Chateau LeGrand. You'll learn that fast enough. Take her away."
"Real trouble maker, I'll bet," he commented to Monique as an unwilling prisoner was led away. "We'll have to watch her."
They had to wait almost half an hour for the forth and last delivery of the day. As the car came to a halt before them, Fredrick was reading the information sheet.
"Janet. Already trained, should be docile and obedient. Here as a reward and for additional training. Lesbian level, maximum. Well, dear Monique, you're set free with this one. Punishments level two, except as required for training. This one's master wants her really obedient when she's sent back."
The car door was open. As the straps holding her into the seat were removed, Janet, ever the obedient slavegirl, kept her head bowed in the position she had been ordered to maintain. It had become very uncomfortable for her as the miles and hours passed during her trip, but she had kept her head down. She had been ordered to, after all.
Master Fredrick gave the usual speech and received no acknowledgment from the bowed head. "Lift your head," he finally commanded. She looked up but showed nothing on her face save for complete obedience. "You understand that you Master has ordered you to be trained in some rather demanding and sometimes unpleasant sexual acts?"
She nodded her head once.
"And that you'll be punished severely for failure to obey." Again a node.
"Good. We'll test your obedience, be sure of that. Take her out of the car and prepare her for her cell."
She was helped out of the car and the coat removed to reveal the slender body under, and the tight ropes corded around her arms. It wasn't long before expert hands freed her of ropes and replace them with cold steel. Then she was led away, shuffling on linked ankles and saying not a word even though her mouth was ungagged.
"That's the bunch for today," said Master Fredrick. "Not a bad group."
"I'll say not. I can hardly wait to get my hands on a couple of them."
"I'm sure you can't," said Fredrick but with no heat. He was simply recognizing a fact of life. Mistress Monique liked to torment naked girls and loved to force them into lesbian acts such as most men would never even think of.
"You'll be getting your hands on them, too, darling Freddie. Like the welcoming whipping?"
Master Fredrick smiled. Mistress Monique smiled back. They really loved their jobs.
11
Welcome Whipping
The four new guests were each placed in an identical cell, one of several dozen made from a huge cellar that used to hold giant vats for the aging of wine. Each was eight feet by eight feet. Each had a small wooden shelf that could serve as a seat or a bed, although as a bed it left a lot to be desired, being of hard wood. There were three rings bolted into the wall over the wooden shelf. Three sides were of stone, bare, gray and impersonal. The forth side was of steel bars, the center part of which opened as a door. A hasp and padlock could lock each door beyond the ability of slavegirls to escape. But rarely was one of the slavegirls at Chateau LeGrand secured only by being placed within one of those cells that resembled cages more than prison cells.
The cell area was heated so that cold and illness would not trouble any of the slavegirls. Much else would trouble them, but they could easily sleep comfortably in their cells without blankets to cover them.
Each of the new guests was kept naked, save for the pair of handcuffs locking their wrists behind their backs, and the pair of leg irons joining ankles. And for one girl who had an additional punitive pair of handcuffs locked on her elbows.
And within two hours of arriving at Chateau LeGrand, each new guest was given a welcome whipping.
The whipping room was fairly large, and contained several devices designed to hold a female prisoner still while various whips were applied to various portions of her anatomy. There was a metal bar that lowered from the ceiling via electric motor, and possessed a leather cuff dangling from each end. There was a post solidly set into the ceiling and floor, to which a girl might be tied in many different positions. And there was a rail of wood, supported at the right height for a female to bend over. Her rump would be sticking right up, an inviting target, while her ankles were tied to the posts holding the rail and her wrists to a metal ring in the floor on the other side of the rail.
The first guest led into this room of pain was Colleen McMasters. In accordance with the instructions of her master, Colleen was given a mild whipping, just enough to let her know that this establishment could, indeed, deliver pain when called for. She was taken to stand under the bar and the handcuffs removed from her wrists, which were then placed in the leather cuffs and buckled tightly. When the electric motor hummed, the bar rose and Colleen found herself standing upon tip toes. Master Fredrick was the one who delivered the whipping.
"This is to be certain that you understand your status here at Chateau LeGrand," he began the ritual. Off to his left a video camera recorded the event. "You will be punished for any transgressions, you will sometimes be punished for no reason. Punishment takes many forms, but the kiss of the whip against female flesh is tradition. I will demonstrate."
The whip was a riding crop, not particularly a painful weapon, at least not when compared to many of the whips adorning the walls of that room. It would not slice the skin, only make it burn and sting and rise up in weals. His arm was strong, the riding crop made a loud sound against the bare flesh of her bottom, to be followed almost immediately by a squeal of pain.
Master Fredrick spaced out half dozen strokes, placing them evenly upon the soft, previously unmarked flesh of the lovely young woman's bottom. Each stroke was greeted with a cry of pain and a little dance by chained feet. Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps this slavegirl/guest knew what could be happening, but she did not protest the whipping, nor beg for it to stop. Master Fredrick distributed the strokes to both sides of her bottom evenly, being careful to remain out of the camera's view of the impact area. He knew that some of the blows would be video taped close up to show that each blow was real.
When finished, this guest was lowered to her feet, and removed from the whipping bar. Her hands were, of course, again handcuffed behind her back, and she was led away.
Mistress Monique showed up just as Colleen was leaving, glanced at her red bottom, and commented to Master Fredrick, "Rather mild, no?"
"Her instructions were for mild punishments," he replied.
"Pity."
The next guest was brought in and led to the whipping post. The handcuffs taken from behind her back were used to secure her wrists on the other side of the post, causing her to embrace the wood. Master Fredrick greeted Janet with the same speech, then used the same riding crop to redden and raise welts upon her bottom. Only this time the cropping did not cease at half a dozen, but went on until two dozen strokes had impacted upon her flesh. She cried out when the leather delivered its pain, but did not speak otherwise. She shifted weight from foot to foot but that did little to ease the sore bottom.
When he finally put down the riding crop, this bottom was far more colorful and ridged with weals than the first had been. But her welcome whipping was not quite over. Fredrick picked a leather strap from the wall.
"You will be trained to perform any sexual act upon command," he told her. "Any act. You will do so immediately and to the best of your ability. Failure will result in pain. What has happened to your ass just now is a mild taste of such pain. I will now show you a stronger taste." He paused to kneel down and unlock one cuff of the leg irons. "Spread you legs as wide as they will go."
Janet paused for only a second before shuffling her feet apart as far as she could. She placed her forehead against the wooden post and waited. It was not a long wait. The leather strap ascended rapidly up between her legs, driven by a strong male hand to impact squarely upon her sex. The end of the strap curled up to lash her clitoris. A scream of pain echoed off the walls, and the naked girl curled up against the post, legs pressed tight together. For a few seconds, she sought to move around the post away from the strap and man who had just caused her so much pain. But no second blow was coming.
For the first time since arriving at Chateau LeGrand, Janet lifted her eyes to look at her captor. Master Fredrick saw the fear in those eyes and smiled. Making the slave afraid was always the first step in training. That was partly why a whipping was given them upon their arrival. They had to understand from the very beginning that pain would be delivered as needed, and that it would be real pain. Chateau LeGrand was not a place for play-acting.
Janet's wrists were released from the post and reattached behind her back. As she was being led from the room, her hands clutched her bottom as if holding her ass cheeks would help ease the pain. Perhaps it did help a little with the pain in her bottom, but it did nothing to ease the throbbing ache between her legs.
Master Fredrick smiled to Mistress Monique. "Better?" he asked.
"Some. I really do wish we could give all the new ones a good whipping. It would really get their attention."
"We get their attention. If not, then the punishments will increase in severity until we have it. You know the rules."
Mistress Monique said nothing. She knew the rules and rarely went beyond the limits they imposed.
The third guest came in walking a little faster in her leg irons than the others. Her young eyes darted from punishment device to device, eager to see it all. The staffer who brought Susie in led her to the whipping bar and unlocked her handcuffs. Her wrists were immediately bound to the center of the bar with ropes, palms turned away from the bar. Then she was lifted up until her toes dangled a good three feet off the floor. She looked down, then up at the ropes digging into her wrists, apparently interested in all that was happening.
Master Fredrick selected a small whip but one with a true leather thong at the end. The impact of this one would be a strong sting and it would leave a thin red line where it kissed. He stood behind her and delivered the welcoming speech. At the end of it, he swung the whip sideways across her ass. Susie had been looking over her shoulder at the whip, but apparently not aware it would be coming so soon, and was unprepared for it. She screamed and jerked her legs up. Her whole body shook as if she might somehow shake off that terrible sting. "That hurt!" she exclaimed loudly.
The reply was a second slash, only half an inch below the first. Again she screamed and danced on the air. "Oh, that hurt! Please, that hurt!"
"You must understand that you are a slavegirl. A slavegirl is punished often, whether for transgressions or merely the pleasure of her master or mistress."
"But I didn't do anything wrong!"
"You don't seem to be listening. You don't have to do something wrong to be punished." The jerking of the teenager legs had calmed down enough for him to take aim on a third stroke. It lashed diagonally across the first two.
"Ohhhhhh! That hurt! Please stop it!" The teenager sobbed a few big tears to go along with her protests. "I was sent her to learn about rope bondage," she pleaded, "not pain."
"Punishment is part of being what you are, slave. Most of your punishment will be from ropes so tight that even you will find them unbearable. But you must learn that suffering takes many forms." He delivered the forth slash diagonally opposite the third. The trim young ass was now marked with a tic-tac-toe of red lines.
Susie said no more, but could not hold back the tears. If she was grateful that her welcoming whipping lasted only four strokes, she did not state it. Her feet were lowered to the floor and her hands untied. She was a little less interested in her surroundings as she was led from the room, hands returned to captivity behind her back in the heavy handcuffs.
"What would you say she weighs," asked Mistress Monique. "One hundred and ten?" "About."
"That's certainly light enough for most any kind of suspension." Monique smiled as she said that.
"And I'm sure you'll give it to her," replied Fredrick. "Her feet may not see the floor for the whole two weeks."
"Perhaps not that bad but..." Monique smiled a cat smile and almost purred.
The fourth guest was fighting the staffers who escorted her. But arms secured by two pair of handcuffs, and ankles secured by leg irons with a short chain, putting her at a disadvantage too great to overcome. Her kicks were ineffectual and her twisting did nothing. The strong hands upon her upper arms led her along, almost carrying her at times.
The rail was her destination. The three inch square wooden rail came to the middle of her stomach when she was pushed up against it. While one man held her, the other removed the handcuffs from her elbows, exposing red marks where the steel had been digging into her skin. Then the one of the cuffs on her wrists was unlocked and her hands brought around to the front where it was again locked. She was bent over the rail by strong male hands until her wrists were nearly at the floor. Then a short length of rope was looped around the handcuffs and through the metal ring in the floor. That was used to secure her hands to the floor, and hold her body bent over the rail. Working quickly and expertly, the two staff member unlocked her leg irons, spread her legs wide and then relocked them to the two posts holding up the rail with new pairs of handcuffs.
Master Fredrick began his welcoming speech to the accompaniment of curses and threats from the captive with the bottom so available for the whip. Fredrick completed the short speech, then reached for a whip. It was a larger whip than the one used upon Susie, one with a thong and meant for business. Without warning he lashed the thong across the taunt skin of that bottom. A scream followed to show that a great deal of pain had been delivered by that single blow.
"OHMYGAWD!!!! You bastard! You're killing me! You'll pay for this." While such threats continued to rebound from the walls, Master Fredrick brought back his arm and drew three more red lines of fire across the smooth flesh in rapid succession.
The cries of pain were very real and very loud. Mary jerked her body against the steel holding her, making the handcuffs clink but not removing her bottom from its prominent position.
Master Fredrick slowly whipped the upturned bottom, crisscrossing the flesh with lines of agony. The naked woman screamed both in pain and anger. But Master Fredrick ignored the screams and delivered a fine whipping of that virgin bottom. Off to the side, Mistress Monique bit her lip gently and enjoyed watching the pain.
All good things come to an end, they say. The welcome whipping lasted only twenty-five strokes, but seemed like an eternity to Mary. And by the end of that lesson, the naked woman had been reduced to a sobbing mass of pain, and her bottom to a colorful mass of reds and blues and purples of all shades. Many ridges of swollen flesh crisscrossed the tender skin, and all present knew that she would be uncomfortable sitting on anything hard for several days.
Mary offered little resistance when she was unlocked from the rail, even when her arms were gathered behind her back and locked again in steel. Fredrick saw in the way her eyes avoided his the beginnings of obedience. But a lot of training remained before this one would be a docile slavegirl.
"It's funny how good an actress she is," said Monique as the beaten woman was led from the room. "One would almost think that she was really here against her will."
"Some of them enjoy playing that game," commented Fredrick drily.
"Yes, some do." Monique stood close to Fredrick and ran her hand slowly along he collar of his shirt. He could smell her sexual excitement, not uncommon when she watched another girl whipped. He was more than a little horny, himself.
"I have to edit the tape and get them mailed out," he told her. "But later..."
Monique rose on the toes and gently kissed Fredrick. Then she was gone. With a sigh, Fredrick replaced the whip upon the wall, and made for the editing room. He knew the promise in that kiss, and knew that the emotions inside that beautiful woman would be more intense after she had secured the new guests for the night. Then, with all the guests out of the way, she would visit him in his apartment... Fredrick smiled.
12
Best Show on TV
The video tape arrived by special messenger, delivered directly into Ken McMasters hands. He wasted no time in retreating to the den and inserting the tape into the VCR. For a few seconds there was black and white snow, then a scene rolled into place, shimmered a bit, then clarified. It was a box being unloaded from a van. Ken watched in fascination as the lid was unlocked and his darling wife revealed inside, still naked and still bound exactly as he had last seen her.
With fascination he watched as his wife was released from the packing crate, and the ropes taken from her body to be replaced by handcuffs. He sat back with a sigh as she was being led away. This was incredible, he thought. Colleen was going on a bondage adventure and he would be able to watch, at least the highlights. The look in her eyes said that she was tired from the long journey, but still excited and happy about the whole thing.
There was a few moments of black, then, just as Ken thought that the program was over, a new scene faded in. Colleen was there again, this time standing under a metal bar with her wrists secured in leather cuffs at the ends of the bar. He could see the lovely lines of her body slightly stressed as she stood on tiptoes. He was remembering the times he had strung her up by her wrists to enjoy that lovely body in just the same position.
Then a man stepped into the picture, a man holding a riding crop. For a while Ken watched the man as he spoke to the nude woman before him, feeling both fear and excitement. He had playfully whipped her bottom now and then, and hand spankings were not uncommon. But he had never taken a riding crop to her bare flesh. He almost held his breath as the male hand moved back then began its swing towards the unprotected flesh. The video recording conveyed both the sound of the leather meeting skin, and the reaction of the bound woman. She cried out and jerked, one lovely leg raising until the ankle was snubbed by the leg iron. Then she put it back down.
Ken could see the red mark forming on the bare skin of his Colleen and felt an excitement within. There was something so very strange about watching his wife, naked and bound, before a strange man. And with each stroke of the riding crop, he felt a tingle like nothing else he had ever felt.
When the half dozen strokes had ended and the riding crop disappeared, Ken released his breath with a sigh. Colleen's bottom was nicely marked up but not anywhere nearly as bad as it could have been. He knew that and he suspected she knew it, too. The video continued while she was let down and her wrists locked again behind her back with those heavy handcuffs.
As she was led from the whipping bar, Colleen turned towards the camera for a second and smiled. Ken swallowed hard for he knew that smile was for him. Even with the pain of her first real whipping fresh upon her skin, Colleen was thinking of him.
Turning the VCR off, he leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. The image of her nudity and each tiny jerking of her body replayed in his mind. With a sigh, he rewound the tape and started it again. As he watched her uncrating and whipping again, he hoped that she was enjoying herself, whatever was happening to her right then.
Tanya Pager lay on the couch, dressed in a pair of black lace panties and some rope, nothing else. She was hogtied, not a very imaginative one nor one that was very tight, but still a hogtie and one that she was fairly certain she could not get out of. Philip, who was sitting beside her, one hand cupping a a breast, was learning.
The doorbell rang, sending a small thrill racing through her body. It had been a long time since those days when her husband had kept her tied up more of the time than not. And back then the doorbell ringing usually meant that her naked and tightly bound body would have to be picked up and hidden before the front door could be opened. She remembered fondly those times when she was hidden in the coat closet while her husband entertained friends, deliberately prolonging their visit to torment the nude woman in the closet.
But this time Tanya was not carried to the closet, she was simply left on the couch while Philip answered the door. The couch was turned away from the door and no one could see her laying there in her hogtie and near-nudity. He returned, opening a small package.
"Some kind of messenger, dear," he informed. "Ah, a video tape. No label. Would this be from Chateau LeGrand?"
"Probably," she said eagerly. "Why don't you play it?"
Philip inserted the tape and sat back down next to Tanya, remote in his hand. As they watched the unpacking of Susie from her box, and the changing of her rope for handcuffs, Tanya was thrilled inside. Philip was also excited, but mostly because he had never seen Susie naked before. She was a fine looking girl, not quite fully mature yet, but certainly sexy. He kneaded Tanya's breast but his eyes were on the TV.
When it came to the mild whipping while the teenager hung by her wrists, Tanya sucked in breath and begin wiggling her hips. It was as if she were reliving such scenes from her life, and she could feel her loins heating up. It was wonderful to see her daughter with glowing eyes, loving every second of her confinement, even when her bottom was pained. Again she cursed herself for how much they had missed and could have been sharing together over the last few years.
Philip's pants developed a bulge as Susie's youthful body danced in mid-air. Tanya noticed his reaction but was too involved with her own emotions to wish to do anything about it just then. She didn't want Philip to get all turned on about her daughter. The teenager was off-limits, and she would make sure that Philip knew that. Hell, he was twelve years her senior. Besides, he was Tanya's man, and she did not wish to share him with any other woman, especially not her daughter.
When the tape ran out, Tanya was hot and bothered, wiggling her hips back and forth in obvious need. Philip was rather aroused and it was not long before he had her legs untied and was screwing her right there on the couch. In the background, the TV hissed with meaningless sparks of black and white.
Robert Walker was very pissed when the door bell rang. He ignored it for a while, but it would not go away. Finally he ceased his pumping and disentangled himself from the arms and legs of Julie to dress himself in a bathrobe. It was early in the evening, so he had no real complain about the delivery of a small package, no complain beyond the fact of colitis interruptions. Which is justification enough for anger in any man.
He paused in the front room before returning to Julie's charms. It was what he had thought, a video tape with no label. Chateau LeGrand, he thought as he inserted it in the VCR.
As he watched his wife unclothed and the bondage changed from ropes to handcuffs, he smiled faintly. She looked so damned submissive and obedient that he wondered what there was to train. But she had shown reluctance to perform certain sexual acts which, while disgusting and hated by most women, intrigued and excited Robert.
Then came the welcome whipping. He watched with increasing interest as the riding crop lashed her bottom, making the soft flesh quiver with each impact. He listened to the cry of pain each stroke brought and remembered the daily whipping he gave his little slavegirl. Then came the last blow, the one delivered with the strap directly up between her legs. That got her attention! Boy, did it!
Robert sucked in his breath. The way Janet had jerked and cried out with that last stroke told him just how much it had hurt her. The way she shivered and cringed afterwards as she feared the coming of a second stroke was beautiful. He had never thought to bring a belt right up between her legs. He doubted it had done any permanent damage, but certainly had caused a lot of pain. He backed up the tape and reran that portion several times, pausing once to gaze upon the stricken look on her face. Then he turned off the VCR and TV and rose.
"Bobby... Bobby come back here," came a lusty voice from the bedroom.
"Coming, Julie, darling. Say, do you remember the way I used to tie you up? And those fun spankings..." He was heading towards the bedroom with plans on his mind.
"I should remember to tell them that Mary is a really good actress who can keep up the game for the whole two weeks," said Mark Piffer to an empty room. The only light was the flickering TV, the program being "Welcome to Chateau LeGrand" and he was enjoying it.
A dozen times he replayed the whipping scene, enjoying each stroke of the whip, each cracking sound as the leather impacted the flesh, and each fresh scream of pain from the woman he had learned to hate very rapidly after their marriage. Her bent over form was beautiful, there was no denying that. She was a beautiful woman, it was only a pity that her inner self wasn't as beautiful as the outer shell.
After the last whip stroke had marked her skin, while she was sobbing, he sighed contentedly. This was far better than anything he could have ever done himself. He was very happy that there was a Chateau LeGrand.
13
First Night in Slavery
After their first dinner at Chateau LeGrand, all four of the new guests were bedded down for the night. Outside the cell which each girl would occupy for her visit was a clipboard, on which was written the instructions for her daily program, including sleeping arrangements. Master Fredrick and Mistress Monique toured the four new guests the first night to a sure themselves that everything was being performed correctly.
"This teenager is quite flexible," commented the senior male staff member as he stood before one of the special bondage rooms. Instead of being confined to her cell that night, Susie was secured under a web of tight ropes and would remain there for the night until released in the morning. Unless, of course, she were somehow able to free herself from the skillfully applied ropes.
"Some of our guests could never be put in that position," agreed Mistress Monique with a nod.
The youth was, indeed, in a position both uncomfortable and extremely difficult for any female. First off her arms had been bound behind her back, elbows together. Then ropes wrapped around her at the waist, above and below the breasts and at the hips. This would be enough to assure that her arms would not move from their position in the center of her back. But that was only the beginning. Next she had been placed upon a padded bondage table, on her bound arms, then lashed down to the numerous rings solidly bolted into the side of the table. Ropes passed up and over her chest, neck, and hips, to hold her tightly down.
Then her legs were bound together with ropes at the ankles, above and below the knees, all tight, cinched down, and firmly knotted. The final discomfort was that her legs were lifted and bent backwards over her body until her feet were almost touching her face. Then more rope was used to lash her legs down to hex body, many windings crisscrossing over her straight legs until they were immobile. Only then was the teenager considered ready for her first night in bondage at Chateau LeGrand.
Mistress Monique checked the ball gag in the youthful mouth and found it tight enough. From her considerable experience, Monique knew that the rubber ball would still be in that young mouth when morning came. The teenage eyes followed her as she checked each knot, each piece of rope. There was a shinning in those eyes that did Monique's heart good to see. This was a young girl who was intensely excited.
"This is the beginning," Master Fredrick told her. "You will be tied in many such positions, all equally tight and uncomfortable. You are uncomfortable, aren't you?"
Susie nodded eagerly, or at least as much as her head was allowed.
"And you know that it will get worse as the night goes on?"
Again the nod and gleam in the eyes.
"Good. Do you think you can free yourself?"
Susie looked down at the ropes along her body, then up at those around her ankle. She tried to shake her body but there was very little movement. Master Fredrick found it amusing that she seemed to be seriously considering his question. Finally came the negative shake of the head. He smiled down at her. There was simply something likeable about this young girl. "But don't let that stop you from trying," he said with a laugh. "Always try."
Susie answered with a smile of her own, mostly with her eyes, the lips being pushed back enough to make that kind of smile impossible.
As Mistress Monique and Master Fredrick walked away, turning off the light and closing the door behind them, they could see Susie's fingers wiggling under her raised bottom, and the slight sway of her legs from side to side as she strained to fight the ropes.
In the adjoining room, Colleen McMasters was prepared for the night. She was to sleep this night standing up for her body was tightly lashed to a post, ropes wrapped around it from ankles to neck. Her arms had been pulled behind the post and tied before the windings that held her to the post were applied. Her legs had been tied together before being placed against the post, then more rope used to hold her solidly against the wood.
The gag in her mouth was not a ball gag, but still one that would give her some degree of discomfort during the night. It was a horse's bit, a bar of metal with holes at each end. Small chains were attached to the ends and locked behind the head with a small padlock. The metal bar, or bit, had been place over her tongue. She could almost close her lips, and her tongue was pressed down but it was not the worst way that gag could have been used. Had the bit been placed under her tongue, she would have been much more uncomfortable. That would have forced her tongue up and caused more pain against the soft underside of the tongue. This way was more kind.
Master Fredrick and Mistress Monique checked over the ropes, making sure each was tight and out of reach of questing fingers. And that there was no single knot anywhere, but three or four on top of each other. It was standard Chateau LeGrand practice to make all knots multiple. Makes it harder for the slavegirl to work them free if she happens to reach them. Also helps assure that they won't come loose with struggling.
The ropes all satisfactory, Monique paused before the beautiful redhead for a little communication. She teased each nipple with her fingers, causing them to become rigid, all the while looking straight into Colleen's eyes. Then she pinched each nipple once, not extremely hard but enough to make the tied up girl wince. The message was clear. I can cause you pleasure or pain. Then Monique lowered her head and toyed with one nipple with her tongue. Colleen sucked in air and moaned slightly.
Fredrick stood by the door while Monique made her lesbian intents known to the girl who could not move nor talk. After a minute, Monique walked away from the post and left the room. Behind her, Fredrick could see the mixture of puzzlement, fear and excitement on Colleen's face, and guessed that this lovely young woman had never made lesbian love. Well, she certainly would be introduced to the arts of Lesbos before she left Chateau LeGrand. Monique would see to that.
He clicked off the light and closed the door.
Janet, the obedient, was in her cell. Handcuffs held her arms behind her, at the wrists and again above the elbows. She was sitting on the bench with her legs straight out and spread wide. Around each ankle was locked the cuff from a pair of leg irons with a chain running from that to the corner bars of her cell front. A much larger metal cuff, looking much like it was off a giant pair of handcuffs, was locked around her neck with a short chain leading from it up to a ring in the wall above her. It looked impossible for her to stand up, yet the whole position was considerable more comfortable than that of the first two guests.
Monique opened the cell door and entered. "You are suppose to be a trained slave already," she said. "I'd like to check that." She moved forward until she was standing between the spread legs, right up against the edge of the bench. She unbuttoned the front of her blouse to free one very fine breast not inhibited by a bra. She knelt forward until that breast was only an inch from Janet's face. "Lick it," she said.
Janet almost crossed her eyes trying to look at the nipple so close to her nose. "I'm not a lesbian," she said meekly. "I don't do things like that."
"Every woman is a lesbian," replied Monique sweetly. "Most simply don't know it yet. Lick it."
Janet looked up into the dark eyes above her. For a few seconds she seemed to be uncertain what to do. Then she repeated, "I'm not a lesbian."
"You have just earned yourself a punishment." Monique's voice wasn't angry, just firm. From her pocket she drew two small metal devices. She teased one of Janet's nipples until it was hard and standing out, then she placed one device over it and screwed down the top. It was a clamp, like a small vice, with two small metal bars that closed when the screw was turned.
"Ouch!" Janet whined. "That hurts."
Without comment, Monique teased then clamped the other nipple, evoking a similar cry of distress from the chained slavegirl.
"You'll stay with these on all night," she said as she straightened.
"They hurt. I won't be able to sleep."
"If you can't sleep, then you can't. Too bad! But they stay on." Monique reached down and twisted each screw another half turn. Janet winced and looked on the verge of tears.
"I'll see you in the morning," said Monique as she backed out of the cell. The door clicked shut and was padlocked. From behind the bars, slavegirl Janet was pleading with her eyes but held her tongue.
Once away from the cell, Monique laughed and told Fredrick, "She wanted to beg to have them off so very badly. But she was afraid to."
"Yes. She was afraid you'd tighten them down some more. And you would have, too."
"Of course. They're no where as tight as I could make them. She'll be uncomfortable but probably be able to sleep. Believe me, I know just how much pain a clamp is giving the girl."
"I believe you. Here's the last slave. Ah, I'll bet you ordered this position."
"Of course."
Mary was not comfortable. She had been lain on a table with solid sides, one edge just below her shoulders. Her arms were pulled down along side the table, wrists joined in a pair of tight handcuffs and padlocked to a ring on the table, leaving her head with no support under it. A wide leather strap passed over her waist to hold her body down. Then a rope had been looped around each ankle and tied to rings set high in the wall behind her. That pulled her legs back and upward until they were in a Vee with the feet farther towards the wall than her head.
It was not a comfortable position, mostly because she could not rest her head on anything. She either had to hold it up by the muscles in her neck, or let her head hang backwards and down in an uncomfortable position. She was still naked and ungagged.
"You bastards!" cried Mary as soon as she saw the two jailers coming at her. "Let me out of this immediately! You'll rot in prison for this. I'll kill you all!"
"She doesn't seem to be in any condition to kill anyone," commented Monique.
"Indeed," said Fredrick. "She's hardly in a position to issue threats. Perhaps you should demonstrate her vulnerability?"
"Delighted to."
Mistress Monique stepped forward and ran her fingernails lightly across the taunt skin of Mary's inner thigh. Mary shuttered as the nerve endings tingled there. "Stop that. Don't you dare touch me."
Suddenly the hand that was teasing swung up and then down to slap the wide open pussy. The sudden shock surprised Mary more than hurt her, but she squealed loudly anyway. "Don't do that!"
Monique slapped the helpless pussy again. This time Mary howled in protest, then launch into fresh protests and threats. Monique smiled and silenced the naked girl by quietly saying, "Can you imagine what else I could do to that pussy?"
Visions of something must have filled Mary's mind for she gulped and was quiet.
Monique smiled sweetly and came around to stand next to Mary's head. "I could shove all kinds of things into that pussy," she said sweetly. "Like a baseball bat. Or a fireplace poker heated to red hot. Or a snake. A live snake. How would that grab you?"
Mary whined pathetically.
"I could beat it with a steel-tipped whip until the flesh was cut to ribbons," she continued. "Or pour some lantern fluid over it and set the pubic hair afire." Mary was wide-eyed in disbelief.
"Of course, there is a simple operation that remove the clitoris. It's sort of like turning a man into a eunuch. You'd never be able to have an orgasm again. Do you like orgasms?"
Mary whined but did not answer.
"I asked you a question," said Mistress Monique in a firmer tone of voice. "When a Mistress asks a question, a slave answers. Do you like orgasms?"
"Yes." The single word was forced out.
"Yes, what?"
Mary frowned.
"You will address me as 'Mistress', nothing else. Master Fredrick here will be called 'Master.' Understand?" "Yes... Mistress."
"Better. You will not be punished for failing to address me properly this time. Bui that is the last time. Tell me, if you Master ordered it, what would you think of having that little operation?"
"I... I don't know," stumbled Mary in confusion. She obviously was not sure how to play this game. She greatly feared these people and didn't know what to say.
"Imagine, never being able to have an orgasm again. Oh, your pussy could be used for sex. It will function perfectly normally. But you'll never have an orgasm. It would make you into a perfect slavegirl. You could please your Master and he would never have to worry about whether or not you had pleasure. You simply couldn't. Simple, no?"
"That's barbaric! You can't be serious."
"Oh, oh! So soon you forget. That should have been, 'you can't be serious, Mistress'. I'll have to punish you."
Mary looked like she didn't believe this was happening. Her eyes followed Monique's hand as it reached for her pubic patch. Slowly and deliberately those fingers picked a single hair and pulled until it was plucked from the flesh.
Mary whined sharply but said nothing. A single pubic hair was a small punishment even if it did hurt.
"You'll learn to obey and be polite to the Masters and Mistresses around here. Or you'll constantly be punished. Your Master has approved the use of unlimited punishments for you. Can you begin to imagine what unlimited means?"
"You're talking about that shitty husband of mine, aren't you? That bastard! I'll kill him when I get my hands on him."
"You've a lot to learn," commented Monique drily. Then she pulled two more clamps from her pocket. But these weren't the bar clamps that only squeezed the nipple between them. These were alligator clamps, tiny jaws lined with sharp metal teeth and held together with a strong spring. Monique opened one and held it so Mary could easily see those tiny teeth.
"You can't be serious," she said. Then hurriedly added, "Mistress."
"I am serious," Monique said seriously. She reached down and pulled one nipple upward. It was already hard, perhaps from fear - that can make a woman's nipples hard as well as sexual excitement. She held the breast with one hand and placed the clip around the nipple with the other. Slowly, every so slowly, she allowed the jaws to close. She watched as the metal teeth sank into the tender flesh, delighted as this slavegirl gasped in both pain and disbelief. When she let go of both the clip and breast, Mary was panting and whining through her nose.
Monique reached for the other nipple, and that was more than Mary could take.
"Okay, you win! What do you want! I'll do anything! Just don't hurt me any more." And several other promises like that.
Monique placed the second clip on Mary's chest between her breasts and smiled. "You'll do anything I want anyway," she said. "It's only a matter of how much pain you can stand. Right?"
Mary was looking at the clipped nipple and grimacing. "It hurts. Please take it off. Mistress?"
"A little better, but you've a long way to go. And to answer your question, all I want right now is to see you in pain." Mary whined again and could not take her eyes off the little beast biting into her nipple. "By the way, are you lesbian?"
Mary's head snapped up. A look of fear crossed her face then faded into agony. "No, Mistress," she forced out through clenched teeth.
"Well, you'll learn. Right now I want you to suck on my breast." She unbuttoned the blouse again and held her breast in one hand, then lowered herself down until the nipple was very near Mary's mouth. "Just lick it with your tongue, then take it gently in your lips and suck on it."
Mary looked up into her tormentor's eyes then back down at the nipple offered her.
"I just saw something I didn't like," said Monique. "You had better not have any ideas about biting my nipple. You do that to me and I'll personally cut off yours. And then I'll cut out your clit." The words were not spoken harshly, but conveyed the seriousness behind them quite well.
"Yes, Mistress. I'll do it right."
Mary did as she was told, but with obvious distaste. Of all the lesbian acts possible, this was the least offensive to a non-lesbian. Yet she hated it. Only she hated the pain in her right tittie more. She licked, then took the nipple in her mouth and sucked gently on it. She hoped that this horrible, perverted sexual act would save her left tittie from that other clip, perhaps even free her right tittie. Monique smiled and closed her eyes for a few seconds.
"That's enough," she said after less than half a minute. "You'll do more later. But for now I'm going to leave you to get a good night's sleep. In the morning I'll come back. Before you're released I'll expect you to lick and suck my pussy until I'll satisfied."
Mary looked down to the clip on her nipple and questioned with her eyes. Monique smiled and said, "Almost forgot. Thank you for reminding me." She reached down to grasp the left breast. In a second the nipple was captured by the metal jaws of the clip, released this time much quicker that before. Mary gasped, then cried aloud. "That's terrible! It hurts! You'll damage my poor titties!"
"You forgot to say Mistress again. Well, enjoy your rest. Remember, before the clips come off and you're released in the morning, I'll expect you to suck my pussy." She turned to go.
"NO!" cried Mary as the two keepers were disappearing through the door. "Noooooo!"
Master Fredrick clicked off the light and closed the door. "Glad these rooms are soundproofed," he commented.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," said Monique cheerfully.
"She certainly gives every appearance of a woman being held and tortured against her will," he said. "She's a very good actress. Really getting into the part."
"Yes. Perhaps she's simply going along with the scene." Monique paused to look into a room where one of the guest nearing the end of her stay was hanging by her wrists over a pit filled with snakes. "Perhaps she's really not a willing guest."
"Her Master, her husband, assured us that she was very masochistic and would love the roughest treatment we could dish out. He said that he wasn't able to provide the kind of treatment his wife wanted, so he called on us."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps he is simply using us to keep his wife out of the way. Or train her. Or both."
"That's possible," agreed Fredrick. "It wouldn't be the first time that has happened. I'll have to check into it. Our policy is not to care about where a Master gets his slavegirl, only that we treat her the way he wishes. But I do prefer that they not lie to us. I'll do some checking."
"You do that. Well, I'm tired. Busy day. It's to bed for me." Monique unbuttoned the rest of her blouse and took it off. It was a fine set of breasts revealed, large and firm and youthful. "Would you like to drop by and tie me up for a while?" she purred.
Master Fredrick smiled. "I have a guest who has to be awaken at least once every night for a whipping." He looked into Monique's eyes and liked what he saw there. "But I guess that can wait. Hogtie or hang you upside down like last time?"
Monique took his hand in hers. As they walked down the corridor, holding hands like old friends, she gave some serious thought to his questions. "I'm in one of those moods tonight," she said. "How about both? At the same time?"
"Consider it done."
14
Nighttime
In the darkness of a room without windows, Susie finally ceased her struggles. With no idea of just how long she had been straining against those ropes holding her to the table top, she had to finally admit defeat. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, she could do about her arms. They were tightly bound together and pinned under her. Her legs she could move a little to the left or right, but nothing else. She came to the logical and emotional conclusion that she was helpless, that escape was impossible.
The teenager girl sighed and smiled in the absolute darkness around her. This was far better than she had ever thought it could be. She was excited at being naked, gagged and helpless, both in a sexual sense and an adventure sense. This was intense stuff, she admitted to herself. This was wonderful - everything she had imagined it and much more. Yet it was different from what she had expected when she saw her mother or other women bound in those photos. For one thing, the photos couldn't convey the feelings of tight ropes all over your body. She especially felt how tight her elbows were corded. Even the numbness in her hands was something she hadn't considered when trying to imagine what this would be like.
And there was the incredible sexual nature of the whole 90 scene. She had never felt so vitally alive and sexual. This was much better than when some fumbling boy on a date managed to slip a hand into her bra or up her dress. This was pure dynamite! She felt herself panting, and not just from the efforts at fighting the ropes. She remembered how her nipples had been rigid with arousal before her legs were folded over her to squash her breasts. Her sex, half exposed to the air with the way her hips were bent, seemed on fire. It tingled and burned with a desire more intense than anything she had ever felt.
And there was the frustration. The teenage girl longed to touch herself, to feed the lust within until it burst into flames. But she could not. All she could do was strain against the ropes, and that felt good but wasn't the same as being touched where her body cried out for touching. It wouldn't have mattered if it were her own hand or someone else's that touched her, she was sure the slightest touch would set her off to explode into an orgasm the likes of which she had never seen.
Susie was a virgin, a rarity these days, but it was true. But she knew what an orgasm was. While laying in her bed at night, thinking about tight ropes around her, her fingers had instinctively wandered down to her sex where they caressed and stroked her just so until she gasped and had an orgasm. After that it was a normal part of her fantasizing.
But there in the blackness of that room deep within the Chateau LeGrand, she could not touch herself. And she wanted to so badly. Very badly.
In the darkness a teenage girl moaned.
Colleen stood in the darkness, wondering if she would actually be able to sleep. The ropes holding her to the post weren't all that uncomfortable... Well, they weren't all that comfortable, either. After she wiggled and strained her fingers to reach any knot they could, she had settled down in full knowledge that she could not free herself. A little experimentation showed her that she could go totally limp within her bonds and they would hold her up. If she did slip off into slumber, she would not have to worry about slumping down in the ropes.
She had both been tied to a post and spent the entire night bound up. But not both at the same time. Her nights in ropes were usually with only her wrists crossed and bound behind her back as she lay in Ken's arms. Occasionally her ankles were also bound, but generally only her hands were tied. It was nice to wake up in the morning in that condition. Since both of them slept nude, she almost always managed to excite her man somehow, whether with her hands, rubbing her body against his, or by slipping down to use her mouth. And that would lead to sex, glorious sex with the man she loved and while she lay on bound hands.
Colleen ached for her man that night. The whole idea of a hotel for slavegirls was exciting to her, something out of one of her fantasies. The mild whipping of her bottom had been easy to take, and none of the bondage had yet exceeded what Ken had put her through. She hoped that some of it would so she could experience new ways of being tied. She would take mental notes and relay to Ken what she had learned so he might try it on her when she returned to him. But meantime, she was here, helpless in the dark, and very horny.
Even that beautiful dark haired girl would be welcome. Colleen felt an attraction for her, not knowing why but still wanting to see more of that mistress. There was little doubt in her mind that Mistress Monique was a lesbian, or at least bisexual. Yet Colleen still felt an attraction even when she normally would have strongly professed that she was not a lesbian herself. But it would make little difference if Mistress Monique came to her while she was tied up and helpless such as she was just then. She would endure whatever was done to her, and would obey whatever orders given her. She was sure of that. The questions was if she would enjoy it. She suspected she would.
Despite the discomfort of the ropes and that bit gag, the prospect of much more coupled with occasional punishments, and possible sexual acts either forced upon her or that she might be forced into doing, Colleen was reasonably happy. This was great adventure and she trusted the Ken would not get her into anything that would be too much for her to handle.
She did manage to get some sleep that night. But she was horny when she awoke the next morning and wished Ken were there to do something about it.
In her cell, chained hand and foot, Janet had only one real worry. She would be a bit uncomfortable spending the night with her legs spread wide and her arms handcuffed behind her, but that was minor. It was those damned metal clamps that Mistress Monique had screwed upon her nipples. They burned and hurt at first, then, after an hour or two, settled down into a throbbing ache. She guessed that she should be glad that her nipples were aching, complete numbness or no feeling would be worse and probably indicate some kind of damage being done. This way she knew that she was going to suffer all night but at least her poor little titties would survive.
She had been quite right when she told Mistress Monique that she was not a lesbian. Some women simply don't have it in them. But she also knew that she would soon be performing lesbian sex and that each degrading act would be something she hated. But she would have no choice. It was obey or be hurt. She knew that she would obey.
Each time she shifted her weight in the darkness, there came a tiny musical tinkling from the chains connecting her ankles and neck with solid supports. She had ceased exploring those handcuffs and chains a long time before. Robert had often left her in handcuffs, including often being chained to something, so she knew the futility of struggling against the metal restraints.
In a sense, Janet was content. The restraints at Chateau LeGrand were the same as that which Robert had put on her. Perhaps they would get worse, but that didn't bother her. And whatever punishments might be in store might be unpleasant, but she would survive them. Even if she were forced into unpleasant sexual acts, she would survive. The source of her contentment was not what being done to her, or would be, it was that this was all at the direct orders and wishes of Robert, her Master and owner. It was wonderful that he cared so much about her that he would expend the time and money to have her sent to this place for special training. It made her feel comfortable inside to know that she was so well cared for.
It might have made her a little less comfortable inside had she known that at the very same moment she suffered throbbing nipples and chained immobility, her lord and master was in bed with a pretty woman, the same bed that he would take Janet after her daily whipping. In this case, the woman was a friend of hers, Julie, and she was both naked and are her arms bound behind her back. She was crying softly as she lay on her back, her legs spread wide and Robert laying between them. The reason for her tears was not the lustful pumping of his penis inside here vagina, but the terrible pain in both her bottom and sex from a whipping just finished moments before.
Her bottom had been ravished by the belt applied with vigor from the strong male arm, and the scolded flesh complained with fresh pain as it was ground into the blanket. And it was not the only part of her hurting. With her arms pulled up behind her back, he had ordered her to spread her legs as wide as possible, then slashed up between them with three hard strokes, each causing her to cry out in pain. Now he was banging against that sore flesh with each thrust, renewing the pain.
Julie closed her eyes and whined with each thrust. The sex was good, but she had never seen Robert so violent in his treatment of her rear and pussy. She wasn't sure she liked it this rough.
It was a terrible way to be bound. Mary could find no way to hold her head that didn't hurt. If she held it up, the muscles in her neck complained bitterly. If she let it hang back down, that put stress on other muscles and just didn't feel very good. With her on her back and her arms pulled down the side of the table, there was enough stress on her shoulders to begin with. Even if her head were somehow supported, the stress of this position would cause more and more pain as the night slowly wore on. And her legs weren't very comfortable, spread and pulled back over her head as they were.
These people, whoever they were, were sadists, she told herself. And for the one hundredth time she asked herself what kind of place this was.
There was something of her husband behind all this, she was sure. That little lecture about this being a special hotel for slavegirls was just the kind of thing that Mark would think up. It went right along with his wanting to tie her up all the time. When she got out of this place, there would be hell to pay. He couldn't do this to her and get away with it. They, all the people of this horrible place, couldn't do this to her. There were laws against this. And she would make sure that her mother had a chance to nail him to the wall for what they had done to her. Mary remembered quite clearly the image of her mother in that chair, and all that rough hemp rope wrapped around her. There was going to be hell to pay for all this.
But right then, in the darkness and loneliness of the night and pain, she could do nothing but suffer. She comforted herself and held off the fear of the future by cataloging and detailing all the horrible things she was going to do to Mark when she got her hands on him. Between her and her lawyer, he would never have another penny to his name - and that was just for starters. He would also spend the rest of his life behind bars, rotting away in some prison.
There was the tiny fear that she might never get free. It nagged at her, tormented her mind, and refused to be vanquished totally. These people had kidnapped her, transported her here, and so far kept her a prisoner with no chance to escape. They seemed to know what they were doing. Could it be that she really could be kept a prisoner forever? She shuddered at that thought, and rejected it. That simply could not be. She refused to think of it.
Sleep did not come to Mary, but she didn't really seek it. She was tired and hurt but her position so uncomfortable that she did not even try to gain solace in sleep. She simply suffered as the night crawled along, bringing her closer and closer to the promised lesbian encounter with that black haired woman.
And what of the raven haired woman so on the minds of some of the guests of the Chateau LeGrand? None of those tormented souls in their chains and ropes and pain would ever have believed it even is they could see Mistress Monique at that moment. The lovely creature was more horribly bound and tormented herself than there were. Her naked body was, as Master Fredrick had promised, in a hogtie, her wrists locked solidly to her ankles by ropes. And, as he had also promised, she was suspended in mid-air above the bed of her apartment. The rope that held her weight had been looped around those ropes holding her wrists and ankles together, then pulled until she was lifted off the covers, until she was twisting in the air, her body in a painful arch.
The agony of this position was evident upon her lovely face, in those dark eyes that so loved to watch torment in the faces of other women. Yet there was an excitement too, a glow that came from sexual arousal. Master Fredrick was laying on the bed, head propped up with pillows, mouth upon one breast, sucking upon the nipple, teasing it with his tongue. At the same time he other hand toyed with her sex, fingers slipping between her labia to tease the clitoris. She moaned with each touch.
After a while stimulating that lovely body to a high state of excitement, Fredrick ceased his attentions. For a few minutes, he amused himself by swinging the naked and helpless woman back and forth over the bed, enjoying the moaning of both strain and frustration. Finally, when he judged the moment right, he picked up a large plug-in vibrator and placed it directly over her sex. He teased gently at first, watching as her breathing became panting and her body lifted itself rapidly towards orgasm. Then, as the first shudder of sexual climax racked her flesh, he pressed the vibrator hard in between her legs and against her clit. His pressing pushed her body to the side until much of her weight was taken against the large vibrator head. She cried out as spasms of pure ecstasy shook her body.
For perhaps a minute he held the vibrator in place, milking the orgasm for all it was worth. Then the suddenly removed it, leaving Monique to hang in the air. He switched it off and watched as this beauty shivered and muscles twitched with the aftermath of a powerful orgasm. It was a most incredible sight and Fredrick once again felt a pang of sorrow that his orgasms weren't so intense nor lasted nearly as long. Women were the lucky ones!
Ten minutes later her eyes opened. She was moaning softly and her head swayed gently from side to side as if she were in a trance. "Now..." she whispered. Fredrick smiled and mounted the bed to kneel beside the hanging girl. He pulled back her long hair and used it to hold her head upright. She opened her mouth in invitation and his penis wasted no time in accepting. Using the way her body could swing at the end of its tether, he pumped her soft mouth around his rod as he held still. It was wonderful and soon he was grunting as he shot his cum into her mouth. She eagerly swallowed it all.
Afterwards, free of the ropes, Monique slept deeply and awoke refreshed to face a full day of tormenting helpless slavegirls.
Those tormented souls in their chains and ropes and pain would ever have believed it even is they could see Mistress Monique at that moment. The lovely creature was more horribly bound and tormented herself than there were. Her naked body was, as Master Fredrick had promised, in a hogtie, her wrists locked solidly to her ankles by ropes. And, as he had also promised, she was suspended in mid-air above the bed of her apartment. The rope that held her weight had been looped around those ropes holding her wrists and ankles together, then pulled until she was lifted off the covers, until she was twisting in the air, her body in a painful arch. The agony of this position was evident upon her lovely face, in those dark eyes that so loved to watch torment in the faces of other women. Yet there was an excitement too, a glow that came from sexual arousal. Master Fredrick was laying on the bed, head propped up with pillows, mouth upon one breast, sucking upon the nipple, teasing it with his tongue. At the same time he other hand toyed with her sex, fingers slipping between her labia to tease the clitoris. She moaned with each touch.
After a while stimulating that lovely body to a high state of excitement, Fredrick ceased his attentions. For a few minutes he amused himself by swinging the naked and helpless woman back and forth over the bed, enjoying the moaning of both strain and frustration. Finally, when he judged the moment right, he picked up a large plug-in vibrator and placed it directly over her sex. He teased gently at first, watching as her breathing became panting and her body lifted itself rapidly towards orgasm. Then, as the first shudder of sexual climax racked her flesh, he pressed the vibrator hard in between her legs and against her clit. His pressing pushed her body to the side until much of her weight was taken against the large vibrator head. She cried out as spasms of pure ecstasy shook her body.
For perhaps a minute he held the vibrator in place, milking the orgasm for all it was worth. Then the suddenly removed it, leaving Monique to hang in the air. He switched it off and watched as this beauty shivered and muscles twitched with the aftermath of a powerful orgasm. It was a most incredible sight and Fredrick once again felt a pang of sorrow that his orgasms weren't so intense nor lasted nearly as long. Women were the lucky ones!
Ten minutes later her eyes opened. She was moaning softly and her head swayed gently from side to side as if she were in a trance. "Now..." she whispered. Fredrick smiled and mounted the bed to kneel beside the hanging girl. He pulled back her long hair and used it to hold her head upright. She opened her mouth in invitation and his penis wasted no time in accepting. Using the way her body could swing at the end of its tether, he pumped her soft mouth around his rod as he held still. It was wonderful and soon he was grunting as he shot his cum into her mouth. She eagerly swallowed it all.
Afterwards, free of the ropes, Monique slept deeply and awoke refreshed to face a full day of tormenting helpless slavegirls.
15
Making of a Lesbian
First order of business for the new day at Chateau LeGrand was Mistress Monique's promised visit to Mary Piffer. As Monique opened the door, she could hear Mary's moaning in the darkness of that room. Then she could see the naked young woman blinking in the shock of the sudden electric light.
"Oh, please, untie me. I'll do anything. Please?"
"That certainly is a different tune from the one you were singing last night," commented Monique. "You seem to have improved over night."
"The way you've got me tied is terrible. My neck hurts so much. And my shoulders. Please untie me."
"After your first lesson in lesbian lovemaking."
"Ohhhh, no. Please don't make me do that."
"You want to get untied? I could leave you there for the rest of the day, you know."
"Please don't! I'll do whatever you say. All of me hurts, please untie me."
"One track mind," commented Monique to herself. She unzipped the short black leather skirt she usually wore around the Chateau LeGrand, revealing an old fashioned garter belt holding up her nylons, and no panties. She walked around the naked girl and positioned herself so her pussy was just above Mary's face. "You'll lick my sex, gently and lovingly. And you'll do it until I tell you to stop."
Mary swallowed hard and tried to lift her head. "I can't lift my head," she whined. "Really, I can't."
Monique, taking pity on the suffering girl, moved forward until her sex positioned just where she wanted it, then she reached down and put one hand under Mary's hand to lift it into position. Mary began awkwardly to lick what was presented to her, demonstrating both a lack of skill and a repulsion at the act. But Mistress Monique was not to be denied her pleasure, she instructed and urged, and by the end of ten minutes, Mary was performing much more to the liking of the woman who held the power of pain or pleasure over her. The tongue gently stroked between lips to excite the clitoris and make Monique moan herself.
"Now stick your tongue inside me," she commanded. "Stick it in and wiggle it. Move it around. Explore around with it."
Mary hesitated at an order she simply didn't want to do. Monique sensed this hesitation and smiled to herself. She had expected rebellion or at least resistance someplace along the line. While one hand remained under Mary's head, the other reached for the riding crop hanging on the wall behind her. Without warning she brought it down squarely upon the open and vulnerable pussy before her.
Mary screamed into Monique's pussy and her whole body jerked. The blow had not been delivered with all the force in Monique's arm, but enough to bring a sharp pain to her sex, and tears to Mary's eyes.
"Please!!! Please don't do that again!" she cried out. "It hurts so much."
"Believe me, it could hurt much more," informed Monique. "Unless you would like to find out, I suggest you shove your tongue into me and make me enjoy it."
Mary whined for a second then plunged her tongue into the orifice before her. With eyes closed and nose pressing against Monique's rectum, she shoved her tongue as far as she could into the juicy vagina of the woman who had just hurt her. Then she wiggled it around, as ordered. Monique moaned with pleasure and pushed the head in her hand upwards a bit more.
Mary wasn't a lesbian but under the influence of pain any girl can learn. She did a satisfactory job under the treat of the riding crop, licking when told to lick, working her tongue in and out of the love tunnel when told to. Before too long Monique was working up to a nice orgasm, finally reaching it just after ordering Mary to shove her tongue in as deep as she could and wiggle it.
Monique's body stiffened and arched forward then trembled all over. Finally she lowered Mary's head and stepped back. She shivered, then smiled. This girl had possibilities.
Mary's head fell back to its hanging position and she shuddered herself, not from pleasure like Monique, but from repulsion at what she had just done. She did not give voice to her fear that she was now a lesbian, having done this terrible act, but she felt it. She felt degraded and dirty inside.
Monique recovered from her pleasure, but still feeling rather mellow about it, decided to teach this slavegirl another lesson about lesbian lovemaking. She walked around to the other side of the small table to position herself before the wide spread legs. Then she began teasing Mary's sex with her fingers, toying with it, sending tingles racing along the nerve pathways into her body.
"No," begged Mary. "Please don't do that to me. I'm not that way."
"Silly girl," said Monique. "Wouldn't you like some pleasure?"
Mary's answer was a simple, "I'd rather you took off these clips. They hurt so much." As Monique teased her pussy, Mary moaned and tried to force her body to ignore the signals of sexual excitement being sent from her loins. It was a loosing battle. A woman's body will always betray her for it knew instinct far better than it knew logic. The heat grew and with it all the other signs of sexual arousal, the breathing, the flush about her neck and face, the secretion of lubricating juices within her vagina. Monique knew what she was doing and played Mary like an instrument. The tied down girl could not control what was happen to her, nor what was happening inside her. Soon enough she was moaning and it wasn't from pain.
Perhaps the riding crop across her most sensitive area had prepared it for the pleasure that came next, but whatever the reason, Mary's body was quickly hot and when Monique lowered her face to the pubic patch to lash with her tongue, Mary cried out in pure pleasure and forgot all about resistance.
Almost immediately Mary was crying out louder and her hips swaying back and forth. Her whole body shuddered with ecstasy.
Monique backed off and smiled. "See," she said, "there is pleasure in both giving and receiving. As a slavegirl, you will give much more than receive, but it is not bad that you see both sides." She turned to pick up her skirt and refasten it to her hips. Then she went to the door. "A staffer will come to untie you in a bit," she said. "I'll see you later for your daily punishment." Then she was gone, leaving a bewildered girl to slowly come down from her sexual high, back to a world of suffering.
16
Morning Pastimes
The ropes were tight and Colleen watched with interest as the high heel shoes were strapped upon her feet. Her arms had already been taken care of, being pulled up high on her back and tied there crossed and with additional ropes going up and over the shoulders to secure her hands between her shoulder blades. It was a bit of a strain, even for a girl who had experienced a great deal of different bondages in her young life, but not really testing her limits. She ignored her arms to pay attention to the special shoes that were now attached to her feet.
Never had she seen such high heels before. The arch they imparted to her foot was like walking on tiptoes. She swore that they were five and a half or six inches in height. And they flattered her foot, being made of shining black patented leather, low cut, but with an ankle strap coming off the raised back. The ankle strap would prevent any attempts on her part to remove the shoes by kicking them off or pushing one off with the other foot. And with her hands completely useless, that meant that she would wear those shoes until her keepers removed them for her.
Colleen lifted one foot off the floor and stretched her leg out to admire the shoe. In the golden morning sunlight, her leg looked very nice, the muscles benefiting from having the foot arched. She wondered where she could buy a pair of shoes like these. Ken would love them.
She was aware of the staffer in the corner with the video camera. She lifted the other leg, putting on a show for her master, for whom she assumed the tape was being made. She smiled to show him that she was enjoying her stay at Chateau LeGrand.
At an order from the female staffer member who had taken her from her cell, after untying her from the post she had spent the night standing against, Colleen stood up. Or tried to. The height and the fact that only her toes were anywhere near touching the ground, made not only standing upright but getting there from a sitting position very difficult. A hand upon her arm helped her gain her balance.
Being used to high heels occasionally helped, but learning to walk on these was a most difficult task. Not having arms to help with the balance made the task all that more hard. But after a little work, Colleen was able to walk around the courtyard and smiled at her accomplishment.
That's when the scene began to turn from fun to an ordeal. First there was a gag, a large rubber ball gag fitted into her mouth and strapped in place. Then she was escorted through a door of the courtyard to where she found herself standing upon the beginning of a path leading off into the vineyard. The path was narrow and paved with rounded stones, much like cobblestones. She did not like the idea that she might have to walk upon that uneven surface in those ridiculously high heels. But the worst was yet to come.
"See that little hill over there?" asked the staffer, pointing to a low hill easily a quarter mile away. "This path leads you to the top of that hill. There you will find a short post. On top of that post you will find an envelope. You are to walk there, and return with that envelope. Understand?"
Colleen looked at the cobblestones and frowned. That hill looked very far away. She wanted to ask how she was expected to pick up an envelope when she couldn't use her hands, but guessed that the answer would be something along the lines of it's your problem.
The staffer seemed to be reading her mind for she said, "You'll find a way. But you should know that if you do not return her with the envelope, you will be punished tonight. Instead of a nice, comfortable night with only ropes to secure you, you will be most painfully bound and probably not get much sleep. Understand?"
Colleen gulped and nodded.
"Good. One last adjustment to your restraints and you're ready to go." The staffer removed a leather band from her pocket and placed it around Colleen's forehead. It looked like a sweat band of leather but was something far worse than that. There was ring in the back where it buckled and to that ring was tied a short length of rope. The rope was then passed down and around some of the rope holding her wrists together. Then it came back up to the ring. When the staffer pulled, Colleen found her head being drawn back and tilted until she could see only sky. She tried to voice a protest but it came out muffled around the ball gag. She could feel the rope being knotted many times behind her head. There would be little chance of it coming loose, she was sure.
"You are now free to go. You must take care for there are many grape vines on each side of the path. They do not have thorns but it would be unpleasant to fall into them. And if you fall, you will have trouble getting back to your feet," the woman said helpfully.
"Trouble?" thought Colleen. "Impossible is a better description!"
"Don't forget, bring back that envelope if you wish to sleep comfortably tonight." There was a stinging slap upon her bare bottom and the staffer left.
Colleen whined in dismay and tried to look at the path. She found that if she turned herself sideways she could see some of the ground out of the side of her eye. And if she bent forward, she could also see the path. But in neither case could she see the ground near her high heels. Only by twisting sideways could she almost see down to her feet. And such contortions left her in fear of falling over. Having no arms was bad enough, ut having her head tilted back and held that way made it even harder to keep her balance.
Gingerly she started out, placing one foot slowly and with great care before her. She eased her weight onto the forward foot gently to get a feel if it was solidly planted. Then she brought up the second foot to attempt another twelve inches. It was a very slow way to walk, and left her teetering with almost each step.
The pretty redhead wanted to cry with frustration. It would take her all day to get up to that hill. And she still didn't know how she was expected to pick up an envelope. It was going to be a long day.
Behind her the video camera caught her first uneasy steps.
Janet was in chains again, but not the same as she had spent the night in. This time they were chains more in the tradition of medieval castles rather than the handcuffs used by police. Her wrists were joined behind her by silvery bands snugly around each and a short three link chain connecting them. The bands were thin and clicked shut. There was a tiny keyhole but Janet couldn't see how there could be a lock inside that slender band. Yet there was because the bands would not pull apart after they clicked. A second set were placed upon her arms above the elbows, again joined by a couple links of chain. There was also a pair on her ankles but the chain connecting them was quite long, long enough to allow her to spread her legs almost as wide as they would go. And they offered no hindrance when she walked, so she guessed that they were mostly for show.
There was also a wider band that went around her neck but, although that one possessed a small ring, it was attached to nothing at the moment.
After a good breakfast, she had been secured like this and lead to a most interesting room. It was a bedroom but one arranged like none she had ever seen before. The bed was huge with four massive wooden posts at each corner. The posts were linked by a rectangle of beams across the top and all looked quite solid.
There was a red velvet bedspread that looked so very soft and smooth. There was matching red wallpaper with a rope pattern in darker red. A dresser to one side held a variety of ropes, handcuffs and small whips on its surface, and who knew what else within the closed drawers. There was small mirror on the wall opposite the bed, the only break in the red wallpaper. Janet didn't know it, but that mirror was one-way glass and behind it a video camera began taping her training session from the moment she walked through the door.
The staffer who brought her was a female, a petite, almost mousy young girl with dirty blonde hair cut short in a pixie style. "I am Nancy. You are going to lean some advanced lovemaking techniques," she began as soon as Janet was standing next to the bed. "We have been told that you are obedient and competent in basic lovemaking, but that you refuse some acts. Is that true?"
"There are some acts that no woman should have to do," replied Janet. Her eyes were turned to the floor in a submissive posture.
"A slavegirl does anything her Master orders her to do," said the smaller woman simply. "You will learn that. I have a list here of sexual acts that your Master wishes you to learn to do and do well. Failure to perform any of these will result in immediate punishment. Do you understand?"
Janet nodded, her mouth becoming dry suddenly.
"Good. I hope you do. Here is my associate to help today. Hello, Hans."
Janet snuck a peek. Hans were a real hunk, standing there in a pair of tight leather pants. He must have been an expert in pumping iron, for he had muscles where most men don't, and muscles on top of the normal ones. And he wasn't bad looking, either. Janet tried to swallow, unsure if she was about to be in for the treat of her life, or one of the most unpleasant episodes.
"Number one," said the small woman, "licking a man's balls. Hans, please remove your pants."
Hans smiled. Janet tried to gulp.
It turned out that licking all parts of his sexual organ was only the beginning of a very informative morning for Janet. And Nancy only had to use the riding crop a few times to encourage a first class performance out of the slavegirl in chains.
The youngest guest at Chateau LeGrand was also enjoying her morning, although what was happening to her would not be considered by most women to be enjoyment. She was out in the warm morning sunshine, in fact, not more than a dozen yards from where Colleen was beginning her torturous stroll up a cobblestone path. Only Susie was not walking at all. She was tied in a reasonably tight hogtie, not as tight as the one she was in when transported to Chateau LeGrand, but a pretty restrictive one, nevertheless. First her ankles had been tied together. Then she was placed on her stomach and her wrists lashed to the outside of each ankle behind her. It made for a fair arch in the youthful body, and produced enough stress on the ropes so that she would be unable to work the ropes off.
She was not gagged, not otherwise restrained, only the hogtie. But she was also not left alone to just enjoy the tight rope bondage. She was laying on her stomach in a grassy square a dozen yards on a side. She was in the middle of that grass, a female staff member standing over her, having just finished the last knot on her wrists.
"To your left is a small red post in the grass," the staffer was explaining. "On the post are twenty wooden rings. Over on this other side is a blue post. You will be required to pick up each ring and place it over the other post. If you have failed to move all twenty rings by noon, your afternoon will be most unpleasant. Understand?"
Susie looked up with a gleam of enjoyment in her eyes. "Yes, Mistress. I understand."
"Good. You may begin."
The mistress walked away, leaving the teenager to her task in the morning sun. Almost unnoticed was the video camera half hidden in the bushes that surrounded the square.
Immediately Susie began testing her mobility. It was not long before she found that the fastest progress could be made by rolling over in the direction she wished to travel. She could swing her arms and legs with enough force to roll her from her stomach onto her side and then over on her back. It was awkward and not easy, but the youthful body was filled with enthusiasm and energy. She made for the red post and its supply of rings.
The first problem arose when she reached the post. As posts in Chateau LeGrand go, it was short and narrow. But to a hogtied naked girl laying on the ground, a two foot post is very tall, indeed. She could take the first ring in her mouth but had. to work hard to get it over the top of the post. Several times she tried to arch her neck enough to lift the ring over the top, only to fall back in failure. The top was just a little out of the reach of a hogtied girl. Then she hit on the idea of not lifting the ring off, but tossing it off. Wiggling around to where one hand could reach the first ring, she took it in her fingers and tossed it upward. On the fifth try the ring caught on the edge of the post then fell to the outside. Eagerly Susie wiggled around to where she could take it in her hand. That prize won, she started off across the lawn.
Ten minutes of rolling around on the grass, including twice loosing the ring and having to backtrack to re-grasp it, and she was at the other post. And faced with a problem. That post was just as high as the first and she could not lift high enough to put the ring over the top. Several times she tried to toss the ring up and over but her fingers could not throw it hard enough. She wiggled up to side against the post and tried to lift the ring over the top. She even tried putting the ring in between her big toes in hopes that her toes were higher up than her fingers. They were, but not nearly far enough to accomplish the task.
The answer was not a trick, it came only when she tried backing off a bit and tossing the ring with her hands. The first time she had been too close to the post. Finally a toss resulted in the ring landing around the post.
Susie was happy and set off rolling back to the red post. Had she thought about it, she would have realized that at fifteen minutes a ring, it would take her five hours to move all twenty rings. Even if she managed only ten minutes a ring, it would still take over three hours. But Susie was a happy teenager, doing what was exciting and enjoyable to her.
Noon was a little less than two and a half hours away when the last knot had been tied. Susie would have to hurry or her afternoon would be something less than pleasant.
As Mistress Monique had promised, Mary Piffer had been untied shortly after her lesbian sex lesson, and she was very glad to get those ropes off her limbs. And those metal clips off her poor nipples. It had been a most uncomfortable night for the slavegirl, and she had to actually wonder when the ropes came off and she could still move her arms and legs, why that should be so. She had been certain that permanent damage had been done to her limbs, so uncomfortable and downright painful had been the experience. But her arms and legs obeyed, after a bit, and she had been allowed a tasty breakfast. The meals at Chateau LeGrand, no one could deny, were first class.
She might have lost her appetite had she known what the rest of the morning was to bring her.
First came an hour in her cell, handcuffed and locked in, but in relative comfort. She slept for most of that time, a needed rest but all too short. Master Fredrick and another staffer came for her to drag away her nude form for what could only be described as a torture.
The room was small in area but tall and obviously made for only one purpose. In it were two clear Plexiglas tanks of water, each about seven feet tall and three feet around. Above the tanks was a hook at the end of a pulley which, in turn, could move on a rail between the tanks.
Mary was brought in and her handcuffs taken off. Having had a little rest, she showed some spark and tried to kick Master Fredrick. But two strong men were far more than she could handle and before long she was bound with ropes the way they wanted her. It was simple, just the arms behind her back with the elbows together and the wrists lashed to the hips. The ankles were tied together and a length of rope left trailing from them. Mary looked nervously at the tanks of water and that rope laying on the floor.
And she had good cause to worry for what she feared was exactly what they planned. She was forced down to a sitting position on the floor by one man, while the other touched a button on the wall. There was a humming sound and the hook at the end of the pulley lowered itself. When it was just above Mary, Master Fredrick tied the end of the free rope to the hook and signalled to his friend. The motor hummed and Mary watched in disbelief as her legs were lifted up. She fell on her side when her feet reached high enough. As her shoulders and head left the floor, her fingers were wiggling frantically and she was begging them not to do this to her. The pleas were ignored, of course, and the naked woman was lifted up by her feet.
The motor stopped when her head was a foot above the edge of the nearest tank. The fear in her eyes and her pleading might have softened lesser men, but these men were used to slavegirls and their carrying on. They simply ignored her.
From above, Mary could see that both tanks were not the same. The water was clear in both, but the one closest to her had ice cubes floating on the surface, while the other one had steam rising from its surface.
The motor hummed and she felt the pulley sliding along on the rail until she was positioned with her head only inches over the cold water. There the motor stopped. The naked and very frightened slavegirl twisted slowly at the end of her rope.
"The pulley will lower you into the water," said Master Fredrick with a smile on his face. "But it is pretty fast. You will be dunked and lifted out again. It will take only half a minute. Surely you can hold your breath?"
"You're trying to kill me!" she screamed at them.
"Not hardly. No one's ever died from the dunking tanks. You'll live."
Mary's protests were cut off by the hum of the motor. Rather rapidly she was lowered and the water closed around her head, barely giving her a chance to gulp in air. Down, down she went, the icy cold water crawling rapidly up her body. She wiggled and thrashed about, but there was nothing she could do. The tube shape of the tank was only a little wider than her body and she slide straight down until the water reached the ropes around her ankles. For a couple long seconds she was held in that position. Above the water, all that showed was her wiggling feet. From the side, both men could see the frantic look on her face, and the struggles of her arms.
Then the motor hummed and she was lifted from what she had been certain was a watery grave. As her head broke the surface, she gasp in air. "You'll kill me," she sputtered. "You bastards, that was cold!" she added.
Suddenly the motor came to life and Mary was moving sideways towards the other tank. The mechanism held her steady over that tank for a few seconds, then she was going down. The naked woman had the good sense to suck in air before the water closed around her head.
Master Fredrick had been right. Her dunking lasted no more than thirty seconds in each tank, from the first contact of her head to the last. But the torture came not only from being held upside down underwater, but from the icy cold of one tank compared to the sauna heat of the other. Her skin tingled vividly and changed color from bluish to reddish depending on which water she was immersed in.
Master Fredrick checked the controls and set them for automatic. Then he instructed the staffer to remain in position, monitoring the tanks and the slavegirl being dunked within. Chateau LeGrand did not want to have any accidents happening to their guests.
The dunking continued for two hours.
Mary ceased protesting and her whole world became taking enough air into her lungs to last through each dunking. She managed but was not happy. The dunking seemed to last forever to the helpless girl.
When finally Master Fredrick came back, Mary was a very sorry looking damsel. "How's she doing?" he asked of the staffer.
"She's having her ups and downs," came the reply.
"Mark, if you don't quit those puns, I'm going to fire you," laughed Fredrick. "Aren't these girls tortured enough, already?"
The jolly men took the controls out of automatic and manually brought Mary over to lower her to where they could reach the ropes holding her up. She said nothing as she was led back to her cell, all spirit seemed to be out of her. They left her arms bound behind her but added a pair of handcuffs to her ankles. Then she was fed lunch by a female staff member and allowed half an hour rest before the afternoon punishment.
Colleen was finding that the hill, although an easy slope and no problem to a normal person, was a terrible task for her to walk up. She had improved until she could walk along the cobblestone fairly well when they were level. But on an up slope it was a different story. She slowed way down, having to take each step very carefully. On the hill she had to take each step by feel, and slipped more than once. Fortunately her caution paid off for she did not fall.
At the top of the trail there was post but she could see it only by bending forward. It was about four feet tall and there was, indeed, a white envelope sitting there. But how to take it? Her hands were up between her shoulder blades, imprisoned by the ropes. Her mouth was filled with ball gag and she doubted she could have bent down enough to get it in her mouth. It was frustrating to be so close but not to be able to touch it. But she had to do it. Not only was it a matter of wanting to avoid punishment, it was a matter of pride. There had to be a way, she told herself.
There was a way but it was not easy. Putting her back to the pole, she bent her knees to lower herself. Inch by inch her fingers came closer to that envelope, or so she assumed. It was not easy without being able to see what was going on behind her. She had to go by feel totally. The more she bent her knees, the higher the chance that she would be unable to straighten up again. There would be a point, she reasoned, where she would be unable to push herself back up. At least she thought so. So it was a relief when she finally felt the top of the pole with her fingers. Then she had to lower herself another couple inches before she could manage to slip two fingers around the paper. She concentrated on bring the envelope up into her hand, fearful that it would slip out and fall to the ground where she would be unable to get it. It did fall once, but luck was with her, it fell back on the top of the post. She was finally able to bring it up from between two fingers of one hand into the other hand.
Then came the slow job of rising back to her feet. It was a strain on her knees, but she managed it. Had she not been gagged, she probably would have given a little shout of joy. But then, if she had not been gagged, she could have easily bent down and picked it up in her mouth.
It was then that she found it harder to walk downhill on high heels and cobblestones than it had been walking up hill.
Janet was exhausted when the training session finally ended, both physically and mentally. She had not only performed sexual acts that she had been certain she never would, she also learned to perform several that she hadn't even imagined.
Oddly, she found that most of those acts weren't too bad once you got over the idea that you didn't want to do them. A few, in fact, were actually rather fun.
But she did not tell her captors that. She did not protest, although she had balked at a few of the first exercises. She was certain that Robert would be most pleased with her new skills when she returned to him. He had better, she would be performing acts most women would rather die than do. Or so they thought.
Her reward had come after the video camera was turned off, although she didn't know that it had been there in the first place. For the entire morning she had been taught to give pleasure to others, both male and female. The diminutive Nancy had proven to have a nice figure and played an important part in some of the training. Janet wasn't sure about that. Did Robert plan on having her perform lesbian acts? She didn't know. But if whatever girl she had to service as nice as Nancy, she wouldn't mind.
And the reward? Why a good screwing by that hunk, Hans, administered while she was laying on her chained arms and her legs spread as wide as the chains allowed. It was then that she found the superiority of those metal bands over regular handcuffs. They molded to her arms and didn't dig into her back the way handcuffs would have. And didn't tighten up.
It was a very good ride, and Janet had to admit afterwards, as she "cooled down" in the privacy of her cell, that it had been far better than Robert had ever given her.
Susie rolled back and forth across the grass, collecting rings and green grass stains on her body. The rings passed from one post to the other, and the naked teenager body gave a fine show for the watching camera as it contorted back and forth, rolled over and over, and wiggled to position itself to grab a ring, or get in just the right place to toss one.
When a staff member came for her, however, there were still three rings one the post. Susie whined in frustration as the ropes were untied from her wrists. She had been so close.
It wasn't until later that afternoon, while suffering thorough a most uncomfortable position that involved her hanging by her wrists with her legs spread wide by thin cord tied to her big toes, that she realized that she didn't have to carry the rings over one by one. She could have taken three rings off the post with each trip, and carried one in each hand and one in her mouth. Or a bunch in her hand. She could easily have moved all them in half the time.
She cursed herself but not too hard. Although her wrists hurt and those thin cords on her big toes were painful the way they pulled her legs apart, she was enjoying this position. For most of the afternoon she hung there, thinking up ways to escape from this bondage. None of them worked, but she was happy trying.
Mary was taken out into a grassy clearing to dry out and warm up after her dunkings. It may sound rather mild to say that she was simply dunked in hot then cold water, but you should try it for a couple hours before you pass judgement. It was a real torture and Mary knew it.
The place she was secured for the afternoon was surrounded by grape vines and other bushes and held a single post in the center, a post which had a metal ring screwed into the top of it. Her arms were still secured behind her with the elbows together and rope wrapped around her wrists and hips to hold her arms down, with rope between her legs to keep her arms from lifting. A metal collar had been put around her neck and secured with a padlock, but only after a length of chain had the end in the padlock too. The other end was locked with another padlock to the metal ring in the post. It was thus that Mary the slavegirl was left for the afternoon.
17
Best Show on TV-Part 2
Ken received the video tape from the hands of the special messenger, most eager to view the contents. When the images finally flickered into life on the screen, they were more than he had hoped for. There was his lovely Colleen lashed tightly to a post for the entire night, a little harsher than he had ever done to her for a whole night, but apparently well within her limits. The lovely nudity that he saw having ropes peeled from her skin in the morning looked tired but none the worse for wear.
And that walk with incredibly tall high heels along a cobblestone path was something he would never have thought of. How beautifully she balanced upon those stiletto heels, how close she came to loosing it all with each step upon the uneven stones. Her breasts stuck out magnificently during that walk and he was so proud of her. The camera followed for a good part of her journey, allowing him to get some idea of the amount of time she had spent with each carefully placed step.
And watching her trying to lower herself to each that envelope was a thing of beauty. At first it had seemed impossible for her to reach down that far, but those lovely legs bent and she lowered herself to where the fingers could just grasp the paper. The camera followed her back down the path, the downhill portion taking a lot longer and filled with more near mishaps than the upward climb.
He could see the triumph in her eyes when she turned to hand the envelope to one of the staff. Then the camera cut to her afternoon, one spent tied in a tightly stretched "X" to rings in a dungeon wall. She was quite solidly welded to the wall but only supported by the ropes trying to pull apart her arms and legs. A lot of tape slowly passed by, showing Colleen trying to get free and finally accepting her helplessness. Later it showed her head droop until it appeared that she slept while hanging against the wall with feet completely off the ground.
An additional segment at the end showed her chained up and being locked in her cell. Numerous handcuffs encircled her arms and legs but not cruelly. She would sleep well. Just before the camera backed away and the light was turned off, Colleen blew a kiss in that direction, and Ken knew it was for him. He felt very happy inside.
Philip and Tanya were interrupted when the video tape came. Philip, a bathrobe hastily thrown around his nudity, answered the door and took the tape. He tossed it on the TV and returned to the awaiting Tanya. At the bedroom door he tossed off the robe. At the end of the bed he braced his legs wide and positioned himself before the naked and hogtied woman. "Okay, now open that wonderful mouth of yours and we'll get back to business."
Tanya, who was enjoying the tightest hogtie she had been able to couch Philip into making, looked up at both the erect organ waving in front of her mouth and the eyes of the man who obviously expected her to continue the oral attention she had been paying to his manhood. "What was it?" she asked.
"Just another tape. We can watch it later."
Tanya's eyes widened. "Susie!? Let me see it."
Philip's disappointment echoed in his eyes. "Oh, honey, can't we finish what we started? You do that so well," he whined.
Tanya looked at that penis staring her more or less in the eyes and sighed. She wanted to continue their game, but also wanted to see the latest adventures of her daughter. "Take me into the front room. I'll work on your prick while I watch."
Philip sighed but obeyed. He pulled Tanya around so that she was almost ready to fall off the bed sideways then put his hands on the ropes connecting her wrists to her ankles. As if carrying a piece of luggage, he lifted the naked woman off the bed and carried her into the front room. Tanya snagged downward as her body arched, but it was exciting. It had been a long time since she had been carried like that in a hogtie and it brought back many memories.
"Prop me up against the couch on my knees," she instructed. "With my side to the couch. That's it. Now you can start the tape. Then you stand here and I'll suck you until you can't stand it anymore and squirt like a fire hose."
"I love it when you talk dirty," Philip said as he fitted the tape into the VCR. He hurried over to take his place next to the bound woman. She took his penis in her mouth and twisted slightly so she could see the TV.
The tape ran a long time, mostly showing Susie rolling around on the grass. But first there had been a delightful scene of her awakening from a night in that horribly tight bondage position on the table top with her arms under her and her legs folded back over her. Tanya sighed with happiness at the incredibly tight bondage her daughter had endured for the entire night. It ranked right up there with the best she had ever had herself.
And during the rolling across the grass with the wooden rings, she felt a sympathy with her daughter. She was, after all, hogtied as she watched, almost the same as her daughter, if perhaps a little less strenuous. The thought occurred to her that she would have to train Philip to put both of them into tight hogties and leave them alone for a few hours together. They had so much they could share, and she deeply regretted having waited so long.
Without really paying attention to her oral work, Tanya was nevertheless giving fine service to the man before her. As her daughter wiggled and rolled around on the screen, she rocked her head back and forth, sliding her warm, moist mouth on the rock-hard penis. And when the camera backed away to show her naked daughter hanging by her wrists with legs wide spread, Tanya whined with pleasure. Her husband had tied her exactly like that, even to the thin rope around the big toes rather than the ankles to force the legs apart. Something of her excitement must have conveyed itself to the man within her mouth for he chose that moment to cum. Or perhaps it was just time for him to come. With a loud grunt he grabbed her head with both hands and shoved his tool deep into her throat as it began to spurt cum. Tanya swallowed and felt her own body shiver with excitement. It was not an orgasm, more simply pleasure but she enjoyed it.
When he was finished and his limp organ withdrawn from the scene of its latest conquest, Philip made to untie the ropes on Tanya but was ordered off. She instructed him to lay her on the floor facing the TV. He had to rewind the tape and start it again. Then he was to leave her alone while she watched. He could come back and untie her from that hogtie in a few hours. He would undoubtedly, Tanya observed, be ready for more sex then. By then she would be rather frustrated and ready herself.
Robert watched the video of Janet from the comfort of his bed. On the floor, in the corner, knelt Julie, naked and bound up with hands over her head and legs doubled up under her. A ball gag filled her mouth so she could not express her opinion of his taste in TV programs. But she could see most of the screen.
"See how she's learning to please another woman?" asked Robert. "I think I'll train you to be a lesbian. It might be fun to watch the two of you nibbling at each other." He laughed. "You can start out by watching carefully on this tape. Oh, look at that! Look at the size of his dong! Oh, she's licking his balls! I can hardly wait to have her do that to me. Julie, gal, do you think you can do that?"
Julie didn't answer, the ball gag making it both unnecessary and impossible. But her eyes were wide open as she stared at the incredibly huge penis with Janet kneeling under it and licking the equally huge set of balls.
"Oh, lordy, that slavegirl is going to be fun when she gets back here. They tell me that she'll be completely obedient, even more so than now. She'll do anything I order. Perhaps I should send you there, too."
Julie whined behind her gag. Things were going a little too fast for her. Not that the tied and helpless female had much to say about it right then, but Robert was still throwing more at her than she was ready for. She began to wonder about escape.
Mark Piffer sat back in his easy chair and watched the beginning of the video. The lesbian training was nice but of little interest to him as he did not plan to use Mary as a lesbian. Still, improved oral skills would be nice if she ever returned to his bedroom. Then he shook off that last thought. She was never going to return to his bedroom.
But what really made his day was the dunking tanks. It was with considerable fascination that he watched Mary's naked body lowered into each tank. Her struggles under the water and the fear in her eyes were pure magic. He watched as her skin changed from bluish coming out of the cold water to pink out of the hot. And the way she wiggled like a fish at the end of a line when she was free of the tanks was priceless.
With a sigh of contentment, Mark rewound the tape and brought himself a whiskey to go along with watching it again. Beautiful, simply beautiful, he told himself.
18
Escape from Captivity
The afternoon sun was warm and Mary was grateful for that. But the ropes were tight and she hated that part. The fact that her neck was chained to that damned post in the ground was not too well appreciated, either.
She tested the ropes but knew that nothing would free her arms of those ropes. She had struggled enough while hanging upside down and being dunked into those tanks. The ropes had been so tight that not even getting wet had loosened a single strand. Now they were almost dry and still as solidly secure as before. There was just enough slack in the chain so she could turn her back and grasp the links with her fingers. The ropes around her hips and between her legs held her hands to her bottom, but her fingers could still grasp the chain. She pulled as hard as she could on the chain, not out of any real expectation of gaining freedom, but out of a need to try. The chain did not give at first. Mary continued to pull, mostly out of anger and a rage to fight against the bonds that held her. Then suddenly the chain gave away and she fell flat on her face on the grass.
For a few seconds she lay there, stunned by the event. But then she struggled up to a sitting position and looked at the chain hanging from her collar. The chain itself was still solid, but the end was empty. She looked back at the post and saw that the ring screwed into the top had broken off on its shaft. She gathered her legs under her to work her way to a kneeling position. The ring had been cut almost all the way through, she saw. The cut was ragged as if done by a none to skillful cutter but enough so that she had been able to break it. A few seconds late Mary Piffer was standing besides the post, looking quickly around.
Off to one side, she spied a camera on a tripod, mostly hidden in the bushes. But there was no one behind the camera, so she was going to ignored it. But then she thought that the camera might show someone the direction she took in her flight for freedom. And to get away from this place was certainly her desire. So she walked over to it and pulled out every plug she could find.
Then she used the edge of the camera tripod to work free the buckle of the leather collar around her neck. It was good when the collar and the attached chain fell off.
There was the trail back to the main buildings, the trail she had been brought down only a few minutes before. And there was one other trail leading off in the opposite direction. She looked at that trail and licked her lips. Visions of freedom dance in her head as her first steps took her towards that path and away from Chateau LeGrand where she had been an unwilling prisoner.
For a while the trail simply wound through shrubs and grape vines but eventually it led to a clearing containing two tall posts with a crossbeam stout enough to hold up an elephant. Three metal rings hung from the bottom of the cross beam and Mary knew that it was not elephants that have hung from that beam. She shuddered as she thought of the ways she could have been hung from that beam, remembering mainly the tight ropes around her ankles while she was dunked repeatedly in the hot and cold tanks.
She wished to hurry away but was uncertain which way to go. There was only the trail coming into that clearing. Going back did not appeal for she was certain that she had to get away before someone found her missing. A small opening in the bushes caught her eye and she made for it, having to duck low to get through. Branches clawed at her bare skin and she lacked the hands to push them away. Progress was slow but that was one woman determined to make her way out. And finally she did, suddenly coming to an opening. Before her stretched rows of grape vines, some heavy with green gapes. Panting, she paused before the vines to consider her next move. It wasn't too hard a decision. The buildings where she was tortured lay behind her, so she headed down a row of vines in the opposite direction.
At times it seemed as if the vines continued on forever. Her bare feet were not made for walking on ground concealing occasional rocks and twigs, and they hurt. She was a city girl and not used to roughing it. Running naked with her arms tightly bound behind her back through rows of vines was not her idea of a pleasant afternoon. But run she did, following the curves of the hills as the rows twisted this way and that. Apparently grapes were grown in rows that followed the contours of the landscape, and in neat, straight rows only if the land were flat. It was a little hard to keep her sense of direction, but she hoped she was continuing away from Chateau LeGrand. Being a city girl, it did not occur to her to use the sun as a guide, instead she relied upon her internal sense of direction.
As the sun was setting over the distant mountains, Mary Piffer finally could go no more. Certain that she had put many miles between herself and her tormentors, she paused for breath at the base of a small hill. She would have given a princely sum for a drink of water, but none was to be seen. But there is a god who protects children and fools, for Mary finally realized that there was a source of both water and food inches from her. It was awkward picking grapes off the vine with only her teeth, but after eating a few, she was very happy to do whatever needed. As she ate her fill, the evening darkness descended over the land until she had trouble seeing the grapes before her face.
Stars began to dot the dark blue sky, but what constellations shown down upon this naked woman she could not tell. The North Star was unknown to her and, even if she could have followed the star patterns to find it, she would not have known which direction to travel to find civilization.
A strange noise awakened her senses. A second later heavy drops of water fell upon her bare skin. With a squeal, she jumped away only to find the water following her. Then she placed that noise. Sprinklers! Those huge, thunking sprinklers used to water large areas. Mary ran along the row and up the hill, trying to get away from the water. At the top of the hill she stopped, the watering not extending that far. While she caught her breath, she happened to look down the hill, then gave a strangled cry of anguish.
There was no mistaking the two posts with cross beam and rings. Nor the buildings only a short distance beyond. She had somehow managed a great circle and returned to almost the same place she started her escape from!
Mary wanted to cry. Her arms hurt from being bound almost all day. Her feet hurt. And now she found that she was no closer to freedom than she had been hours before.
With a great sigh of resignation, she hurried down the hill to where the rows started and turned left. For a long time she tried to avoid the sprinklers in the darkness but often failed when a new set suddenly burst into life. It was almost as if they hated her and were trying to soak her to the bone in hopes that she would catch her death of cold during the night.
And in their efforts, they were successful. Before long Mary was soaked, her drenched hair hanging down on her shoulders and her feet making sloshing sounds in the mud. She shivered in the cool night air. It might have been summer but the valleys in that part of California were cooled by sea breeze when the sun disappeared, and the gentle caress chilled her.
Finally she sought refuge away from the rows of grape vines, among some trees. Hidden in their protective branches she found an abandoned car, many years old and covered with a layer of dirt. The seat covers had long since rotted away but against the side of the car she found shelter from the breeze. A bed of dried grass provided some protection from the ground, and the auto was so low to the ground on its flat tires that the breeze did not pass under it. She curled up into a ball and huddled there, wishing she were any place other than where she was. If only her arms were not so tightly bound she might have been able to make something of a shelter. But her hands were denied her.
As she lay there, certainly that at any minutes someone from Chateau LeGrand would be along to return her to enslavement, she renewed her vow to punish all those responsible for this place and her being kidnapped. She might even bypass the law and simply shoot them herself. As she grew sleepy, she realized how much her pussy hurt. The two ropes passing between her wrists and the rope around her hips in front bisected her pussy and ass and were tight. As she ran they had chaffed the tender skin down there until it was now itching and quite sore.
A very miserable young woman fell asleep under the stars only a hundred yards from the main entrance to Chateau LeGrand.
Morning found Mary Piffer cold, aching and despite not being in her cell, still a prisoner of Chateau LeGrand. Their ropes still held her arms tightly behind her back and would not let go. She crawled away from the ancient auto that had been her shelter for the night and managed to awkwardly get her feet under her and therefore to stand. Her shoulders ached and she could hardly feel her fingers. But as she walked stiffly towards the grape vines she had abandoned the night before, she began to feel some life coming back to them and concluded that it must have been the way she was sleeping that impeded the circulation. By the time she reached the edge of the rows of vines, the numbness was gone but all sorts of aches remained.
Grapes might be a bland diet but she was glad to be able to eat them right off the vines. These grapes, she noted were a ruby color, not the green ones she had eaten the day before. They had a different flavor, for which she was glad. She was also glad that it was well into summer or she might not have found them ripe and ready for eating. Off in the distance she saw a truck and a few tiny dots between the green rows. It seemed ironic that this place, which specialized in torturing girls, should also harvest the grapes which provided the cover for the place. But then, as she thought about it, maybe it wasn't such a strange idea. If the grape vines were allowed to run wild, surely that would call someone's attention to the fact that this place was no longer a real winery. She guessed that they allowed picking of the grapes then sold them off rather than try to make wine themselves. They were, after all, torturers of young females, not wine makers.
Faced once again with the need to decide which way to make her escape, Mary re-entered the small patch of trees where she had spent an uncomfortable night. On the other side was dirt road leading vaguely away from the buildings. She followed it, expecting to run into a main road before too long.
What she ran into was a barn. The wood was faded with only tiny patches of what was once red paint here and there. The doors sagged on rusty hinges, and weeds grew right up to the wooden walls. She carefully walked around the old structure, ready to dash away at the slightest sign of movement. But there was none. She peeked inside the door and, after a little bit to allow her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness inside, she could make out only a dirt floor, posts here and there supporting a loft, and old bales of hay. She was about to turn away when she heard a moan.
Mary wished only for freedom and escape. But the sound of another girl moaning in what sounded like pain pulled her until she slipped through the door and inside. The sound was repeated from behind some bales and she tiptoed in that direction.
It was a girl, certainly one of the other prisoners of that terrible place. She was young, probably not yet out of her teens, naked as were all the girls Mary had seen around that place, and bound in a rather uncomfortable position. The teenager's arms were bound behind her with the elbows tight together, and her legs bound at the ankles, above and below the knees. But what made her moan was a slight addition that turned uncomfortable bondage into torture. An additional rope had been tied around that already on her wrists. Then it was passed up between her elbows and her back and up to a rafter. When it had been pulled, her hands rode up on her back. Had the elbows not been together, they would have separated and eventually her hands would have reached a point where they could go no farther. But the elbows were tied and the rise of her hands made her elbows move away from her back. The limit had been reached but only after considerable strain had been put on the arms. The youth's hands were spread wide and against her back, and she was up on her toes to ease the strain. Mary grimaced at this torture, it looked terribly uncomfortable. As she watched, the girl lowered her feet flat but grimaced as the additional strain was taken up by her arms. It was only an inch or so, but it was obviously quite a strain.
Mary walked into the area where the girl stood, uncertain what she could do to help, or, for that matter, what this teenager could do to help her. But another prisoner of Chateau LeGrand would certainly be an ally of hers. "Hello," she said softly. The girl looked up suddenly and her eyes brightened. "Hello!" she replied with surprising happiness in her voice. "I'm Susie. Who are you?"
"I'm Mary. You're a prisoner of Chateau LeGrand, too?"
"I guess you could say that. Isn't this the most incredible bondage position?" she offered with a faint smile. "If I stand flat footed, my arms and shoulders ache terribly. Which I can only ease by standing on my tip toes. But then the muscles in my feet get to aching and I have to come back down. I've been doing this all morning. Isn't it really too much!"
Mary looked at the fine teenager body and could see the stress Susie referred to in the trembling muscles and in her eyes. "Yes, it's horrible," she muttered. Then, louder, "Look, where's that rope tied off? I'll get you down."
"Oh! It's tied over there to that metal thingie on the wall. But aren't you a slavegirl, too? I mean, should you be doing this?"
"I was a prisoner until I got away yesterday," said Mary as she went to the wall. Her voice trailed off as she saw the way that rope was tied. The metal cleat was about the level of her head and the rope tied quite solidly with several knots. She turned her back and tried to reach up to the rope, even though she knew full well that her hands being tied down to her hips would prevent that.
"I'll have to work at the rope with my teeth," she told Susie. "Just hang in there, I'll get it loose."
"I don't seem to be able to do anything else," replied Susie. "But should you be doing this? I mean, they put me here and I think that only the staff members should remove us. Isn't that right?"
Mary did not reply. For one thing, she was working at a knot with her teeth. For another, she was not sure about his teenager. The girl must be a little crazy from the mistreatment for she actually sounded like this was all a game instead of a nightmare.
It was not easy going for the rope had been tied rather tightly. But Mary worked at it and worked at it until the first knot finally gave way. It revealed the next knot and she let forth with a big sigh before starting in on that.
Susie, meantime, was not quietly awaiting her freedom. "When Mistress Monique brought me out here, we passed Colleen in the patio. She was standing on one foot. Her arms were tied behind her back and pulled to one post behind her. Her other ankle was tied and pulled towards a post in front of her. It was quite a position. It would be very uncomfortable if she were to loose her balance and fall. But the ropes pulled on her helped her keep her balance. Isn't that quite a way to tie a girl?"
Mary mumbled something that might have been agreement. "Are you sure you're suppose to be doing that?" asked Susie again.
Mary backed off a step and turned to Susie. "Look," she began, "I'm trying to get you untied. Then we can run away from this place. So shut up and let me work." ' "Oh, I get it!" cried Susie with youthful enthusiasm. "An escape! A new game!"
Mary would have sighed had her mouth not been filled with rope at the time. This teenager was not playing with a full deck of cards. But she would get her out of this because she needed someone to help get her arms free.
The knots came slowly but yield they did to the persistence of the naked and bound woman. Finally the last knot slipped and Susie's arms suddenly dropped. "Oh!" the teenager cried. "That's better. Oh, my feet hurt."
Mary was about to suggest that Susie forget her aching feet and begin working on freeing their arms when she heard a sound. It was a sound she did not want to hear, the sound of a door opening. "Quick," she whispered, "is there another way out of here?"
Susie frowned, then brightened. "There's a door over there, I saw it."
"That's the front door. They'll come in that way."
"No they won't," Susie said confidently. "They'll come in the same way they brought me, through the tunnel and up the stairs."
Mary didn't have time to puzzle that one out. She bumped her body against Susie's, urging the girl to make for the door she had come in. Apparently that was not the normal entrance to this barn, but she didn't have time to ponder that. Susie caught on and hurried out the door like a scared deer. Mary followed on her heels, thoughts of recapture spurring her on.
They didn't stop until they were well away from the barn. When they did come to a halt, it was because Mary could go on no longer. She was panting and bent forward trying to catch her breath. Susie could have continued, being possessed of unlimited energy as are all teenagers, but she waited for Mary.
"Wow! That was something!" she exclaimed with glee. "A real escape! Oh, wow."
Mary could barely talk but managed to tell Susie to shut up. "Oh, yes, we're fugitives now. Prisoners on the run, escape slavegirls trying to make their way back home. Cool."
"If you don't shut up, you'll be the recaptured prisoner," Mary hissed. "And then you'll see what they do in the way of punishment for escape attempts. It probably won't be pretty."
Susie calmed down a bit but was still caught up in the excitement of what, for her, was a big game. "Right. Wouldn't want them to have a reason to punish us."
"You don't have any idea which way is out of here?"
"No. I came in tied up and locked into a box. Didn't see a thing."
"Shit! I was locked in a box, too. Well, we'll just have to keep going in one direction until we come to something. Here, let's work on each other's ropes so we can get our arms back."
"Oh, your arms look like they've been tied that way for days. Good job on the ropes," commented Susie.
"They have been tied for days. Well, it's the second day now. But please try to untie my wrists. Or should I work at your ropes first?"
Susie paused to ponder the situation. "Are you sure we should untie each other?" she finally asked. "Wouldn't that spoil the game some?"
"Spoil the game! Are you crazy? We've got to get away, and here you are acting like it's all a big game. Don't you want to escape from that place?"
Susie stepped back. "You're serious," she said quietly, all the good cheer gone from her youthful face. "You really want to get away from Chateau LeGrand."
"Of course, you stupid little bitch. Now get to work on these ropes."
Susie frowned and did not turn her back and hands to the offered ropes. "I'm not sure about this..." she said simply. "Maybe I shouldn't."
Mary glared at the teenager. "You are crazy. Those bastards are torturing us! We were kidnapped by those crazies!"
"I wasn't kidnapped," said Susie. "My Mother tied me up and gave me to the staff men who came for me. I'll be going home in two weeks... Maybe I should go back now." There was confusion in her voice.
"You are crazy. Go on, go back to all that torture and pain. You deserve it."
Susie began to walk back the way they had just run. "No, wait," cried Mary. "Please! Please untie my arms before you go" "I don't think I should," she said but there was uncertainty in her voice.
"Look, you little asshole, you can go back to those crazies if you want, but I don't want to. Now untie these ropes or I'll... I'll..."
Susie smiled. "I don't think you'll do much. What are you going to do, kick me? I can run faster than you."
Mary looked like she was going to cry. The teenager girl was right, there really was nothing she could do. She turned and started off into the trees.
Susie stood still for a while, watching the naked woman leaving her and wondering what she should do. But the mental debate was short. She really loved Chateau LeGrand and enjoyed her stay there. She was not going to do anything to mess up what was a great adventure to her. She turned and began jogging back the way she had come.
Mary sighed as she walked. It just wasn't fair. She had freed that teenager from a painful position, and offered to free her arms, to give her freedom. And the little idiot refused! She hoped that they would really torture her for escaping. Weren't slavegirls or any kind of prisoners suppose to be punished for escape attempts? Of course they were.
She plodded on, trying to keep a straight line through and over curvy hills. Eventually she came to a dirt road and turned to follow it. She was tired, dirty and hungry, not to mention thirsty and hurting. But she kept on plodding along, putting one foot before the other, doing her best to ignore the aches in her shoulders and arms, and the hunger in her stomach.
It was late afternoon when the jeep pulled up behind her. For a few seconds Mary's eyes lit up with hope. But then she saw Mistress Monique step down from the vehicle and that hope died. She didn't fight as one of the male staff members took her arm and put her in the jeep.
19
The Punishment for an Escape Attempt
On the day after her escape attempt, Mary was punished.
The staff of the Chateau LeGrand was in a bit of a quandary. True escape attempts were very rare since most of the slavegirls in attendance were either devoted to their masters or mistresses, or were of a nature to enjoy their stay. Witness Janet and Susie as examples of those two classes. Neither girl would consider seriously escaping from their captivity. But this Mary did and in doing so made clear to her captors what all her protests and complaints could not - that she was truly a captive and had been taken against her will.
This created a problem for the staff. But, being the representatives of an old and established European institute, they were not thrown into confusion. Mary was thrown into a form of solitary confinement to keep her "on ice" while the details were sorted out. A representative of Chateau LeGrand visited Mr. Mark Piffer.
His office was impressive, as would be expected of a man who owned a corporation grossing in excess of a billion dollars a year. Mistress Monique, wearing a very chic gray skirt with matching jacket, white blouse and red scarf worn much as a man's tie, high heels and glasses with plain glass lens. The effect was that of a very up to date business woman. She even carried a slender brief case. As she entered the wood paneled office overlooking a large city, Mr. Piffer rose to greet her.
"Sorry to have to intrude," she began in a businesslike manner. "But a little clarification is needed."
"Of course," he said evenly. "Please be seated. Would you like coffee? Tea?"
"Refreshments will not be necessary, thank you."
"Very well, to business. Your call was not unexpected, as I indicated. You wish to know the precise status of Mary?"
Mistress Monique took the offered chair and crossed her nylon-clad legs with a swishing sound in the quiet office. "We are fairly certain of her actual status, Mr. Piffer. She is not as you represented, a willing slavegirl who enjoys playing the kidnap and torture game. She is, as you stated, your wife, but is currently being held against her will."
Mark nodded agreement. "That about sums it up. Of course, I lied to you about her role in this. She would most certainly never have agreed to a visit to the Chateau LeGrand on her own."
"And what did you expect by lying to us? You wish us to train her to become an obedient slavegirl and wife? To solve the problem of your domestic relationship, then return her to you?"
"Yes. But not the part about returning her." He sat on the edge of his desk, a habit he had picked up from his days as a line manager when the desk was an old, beat up relic and he was working his way up the corporate ladder. "First off, I apologize for lying to you. But I was fairly certain that you would not have agreed to an actual kidnapping and imprisonment."
"We wish to keep our operations within the law of the land as much as we can," Monique commented dryly.
"Quite so. So I lied in order to get Mary into your establishment. I am sorry about that but it was necessary. But my thinking was not that you would train her. That would be nice, but I could never be sure that she was truly submissive and obedient. There would always be the nagging suspicion that she might turn on me one day. I would have to keep her in constant restraints. I thought it better to leave that to experts such as yourselves."
"Then you do not wish us to train her?" Mistress Monique lifted one eyebrow a fraction of an inch, the maximum expression of puzzlement she allowed.
"No, that is not my wish. What I wanted is exactly what I have gotten. My wife is in your capable hands. And she will remain there. Permanently." He paused for a moment to make sure that this beautiful woman understood what he was saying. He saw no puzzlement in her eyes, and continued. "It is my intent that Mary become a permanent guest at Chateau LeGrand. I will, of course, pay for her... lodging. The rate is quiet satisfactory for the services offered."
Mistress Monique pursed her lips. "It is not the purpose of Chateau LeGrand to incarcerate people for the rest of their lives," she stated.
"I understood that. But I have sort of forced the issue, haven't I? By tricking you into becoming accomplices in kidnapping, false imprisonment, and possibly a dozen other crimes." He smiled but not in gloating. "You cannot simply release her. She will run to the police and that would not be desirable. And, in fact, she does not know of my part in this. She might simply assume that you are a bunch of crazies who kidnapped her for the fun of it. Or she might suspect my hand behind all this. The authorities would, of course, have different ideas. I suspect the immediate result would be the sudden disappearance of Chateau LeGrand from the suite it currently occupies. Am I right?"
"There is a contingency plan," Monique admitted. "We can evacuate the premises within twenty-four hours. But we would not wish to have to do that."
"Of course. And I do not wish for that to happen either. Put quite simply, I tricked you into this situation for the sole purpose of forcing you into a position of having to accept my wife as a permanent guest. Is that so bad?"
Mistress Monique did not reply at the moment. She was occupied with trying to suppress a smile. When she finally spoke, it was with the same crisp tone as before.
"Very well. We will keep your wife as a guest. Permanently. The rates will continue as agreed upon."
"No discount for quantity buying?" Mark suggested with a smile.
Monique lifted the left eyebrow half an inch. After a few seconds to allow his joke to fall flat, she continued. "There then becomes the question of treatment. Is your wife to be continued on a program of severe punishments and constant restraints? Or do you wish her simply to be imprisoned but otherwise well treated?"
Mark smiled, this time with genuine pleasure. "The rate I'm paying included the program we defined. I will, of course, expect that you will take all steps necessary to prevent her escape. And the punishments will continue. In the relatively short time I was married to her, I came to understand the mean and vicious nature of that woman. She did what she could to make my life miserable and would have continued to do so until my death. At which point she expected to gain control of my money."
Mistress Monique could not keep all traces of her smile from her face, one corner of those full lips tugged upward.
"I feel she deserves all she is getting. And if not, well, that's not really important, is it?"
"Of course not, Mr. Piffer." Mistress Monique rose gracefully from the chair. "We will continue to keep your wife as a guest. So long as the payments continue, that is, of course. And you wish to continue to receive video tapes of her punishments?"
"That would be nice."
"So it will be done." She stepped forward and offered her hand in a masculine manner. He did not take it, but instead went around his desk.
"There is one other small favor I would like to ask," he said as he withdrew an envelope from the desk. "Here are divorce papers. I would appreciate if you could... ah, persuade my wife to sign them. I'm sure that will be no problem for your talents."
He was smiling again. "I wish to have the legal status changed. It would be terrible were I to die unexpectedly and all that money come to fall to her. People would start looking for her. If she is no longer legally my wife, that will not happen. Of course, I will rewrite my will so there will be no problem." He handed the papers over to Monique. Then he took her hand and shook it.
As Monique rode the elevator downward she was thinking of two things. One was gratitude that this man had suggested exactly what she had come to suggest. The keeping of a problem wife or child was not as unknown to Chateau LeGrand as she had implied. There were several such guests currently in the Madagascar facility. Perhaps this Mary should be transferred there.
The other thoughts occupying her mind on the trip back to Chateau LeGrand had to do with punishment for an escape attempt. Since this was to be a permanent prisoner, it must be impressed upon her that escape attempts will not be tolerated. Mistress Monique smiled to herself as she drove the noisy, unpleasant, smelly American freeway.
"Please don't..." The protest and plea lacked the intensity of those issued from that prisoner during her first days of captivity - make that guesthood - at Chateau LeGrand. The constant restrictions and punishments were wearing down her resistance.
"Escape attempts will not be tolerated," replied Mistress Monique, sternly.
Mary Piffer watched as her bound wrists rose passed her face and continued towards the ceiling. The cellar of a winery had been turned into a fine dungeon, complete with numerous torture devices, both classical and innovative. As the motorized pulley in the ceiling exerted its wishes upon the naked slavegirl, she was lifted from the floor until point was reached where she could no longer rise. That point was defined by the two ropes tethered to her ankles and forcing the legs to be spread wide. Just enough slack had been allowed so that when this equilibrium was reached and all the ropes taunt, her toes were almost a foot off the floor.
It was not a comfortable position and would have been a punishment had the naked woman simply been left to hang that way. But such easy punishment was not to be her lot that evening. Mistress Monique, having changed into her working suit of short black leather skirt and silk blouse, this time of fire engine red, picked up a strap of leather and approached the suspended nudity.
"First we will sensitize your skin," she informed. "This strap will not raise welts nor break the skin. But it will sting and burn and make your flesh much more sensitive for the whips that will follow."
"You can't mean that! You can't be planning to whip me."
"Can't I? You should have thought of that before you tried to escape. Did it not occur to you that the punishment for escape would be much worse than the daily punishments?"
"You were torturing me. I had to get away."
"You were being punished, not tortured. A woman can endure far more pain than you have tasted up to now. Far more." She eyed the soft flesh of that bottom and the very nice legs descending below.
The first stroke was unexpected and came as Mary was formulating her next plea for reasonable treatment. It cracked against the skin of her bottom, a sound that bounced around the concrete and stone dungeon. It was followed by the first of many cries of distress.
"That hurt!" claimed Mary with more than a trace of reproach in her voice.
"Of course. It was meant to. But it is only a beginning. Simply a little warm up exercise." Monique illustrated with another crack that made the twin globes of Mary's bottom shake from the impact.
It was a slow punishment of naked girl-flesh, meant to not be over quickly, meant to make more of an impression because it took so long. Monique worked over the flesh of that bottom, then turned to the thighs, first on the backs then on the fronts. Mary was soon crying with each impact. When both her bottom and thighs were red and sore, she stopped pleading and simply allowed her pain to come out in gasps, cries, and occasional small screams when a more sensitive place was targeted.
Standing in front of the suspended girl, Monique took careful measure against the breasts with their fear-rigid nipples. She did not swing with the full force of her arm, only enough to make the breasts hurt and become more sensitive to what was to come. As is the case with all women, Mary was frightened of damage to her fine breasts and screamed with the first stroke across them, even though the pain was not really severe.
Four strokes were all needed to prepare the breasts for later attention. Monique smiled to herself. Now came the part she particularly loved. Positioning herself to one side, she took measure and brought the strap upward in an arch ending upon the sole of Mary's left foot. The scream that echoed within the dungeon was most satisfactory.
The soles of both feet were treated to half a dozen strokes, enough to make them ache terrible for a day, especially when the slavegirl attempted to walk on them. There are many nerve endings in the bottom of a woman's feet and they protest very loudly when abused.
Mary was by then crying softly to herself with her head hung down. She did not see Monique position herself directly in front of her, nor did she see the strap coming up directly between her legs. Suddenly she was screaming and it took a second to realize why. Then she began pleading for mercy in a most serious manner.
A couple of strokes squarely upon the pussy was enough to convince Mary that all the punishment she had endured up to that point were, indeed, minor compared to what could happen. And was happening.
The second phase of Mary Piffer's whipping involved the use of a small braided whip with a thong. It stung and hurt something terrible. Mary endured the slashing of her bottom with that wicked small whip, crying out with each impact as expected and sobbing between the flashes of pain. She endured the marking of her bottom with weals crisscrossing each other until little of the surface was free of marks. She endured the marking of the backs of her thighs, even though that area was even more sensitive than her bottom. She cried and screamed softly as the fronts of her thighs were marked up.
But when the first stroke cut across her breasts, she screamed loudly. A second later her body arched backwards and then jerked hard against the ropes holding her. Monique backed off a step and watched with enjoyment. She had seen this before, the slavegirl suddenly unable to take the punishment any long and rebelling with a frenzy of struggles. But they were useless struggles and left her with chaffed wrists and ankles, and still a prisoner and easy target for the leather instrument of pain.
Monique worked over the breasts, covering the tops, sides and bottoms. Mary screamed but pleaded no more. Following her pattern with the strap, she then shifted her attention to the soles of the bound girl's feet. Each upward cut of the whip against that soft flesh brought forth a fresh scream and spasm of jerking muscles.
Monique limited herself to four strokes per sole, a modest amount but one that she knew would have it's effect upon this slavegirl. Had Mary been used to being whipped, Monique would have doubled the count, but four was enough for her purposes at that time.
Monique stood before the naked, sweating, suffering girl and waited. Eventually the pain-soaked mind of the tortured girl recognized the pattern. She looked up through her hair at the eyes of her tormentor, seeking mercy. Or a hint of it. There was none. All she saw was delight in her suffering and a wish to continued this exquisite game. She lowered her head and braced herself as best she could.
The stroke, when it came, was worse than Mary could ever have expected. It was an explosion of pain so intense that it went beyond being called pain. Mary tried to curl up into a ball but was held open by the ropes. She tried to scream but the sound caught in her throat for a second, so much was the shock.
Monique was breathing harder, and not all from exertion. This was heady stuff for her, as well as for the slavegirl. Very intense. She lowered her arm and delighted in the reactions as she swung upward again into this girl's most private place. The scream that forced its way out was the loudest of all.
As with the soles of Mary's feet, her pussy was limited to four strokes, each a terrible torture in itself. But it could have been worse. Monique held her hand when it would have pleased her to continue granting such wonderful pain to his beautiful woman. She knew this was the first real whipping for this slavegirl. There would be more.
Mary was left hanging for a couple hours before being taken down, secured in numerous handcuffs and chains and padlocks, and taken to a new cell, one in what was referred to as the maximum security area. The walls of that cell were made of metal, nothing softer. The bars on the door were twice as thick as on the normal cells, mostly for the physiological effect since no girl could possible bend either. And the cell was smaller. Much smaller. Mary could not stretch out and would have to sleep, whenever that grace was granted her, with part of her body bent.
In the darkness after the last of the bolts had closed and padlocks had snapped shut, Mary lay there. Only two thoughts occupied her mind, one being that it was over. Like a shipwreck victim, she clung to that concept. It was over. The pain had stopped coming. For now.
The other idea was that she wished she could reach her fingers down to explore her sex. But the handcuffs on her wrists and elbows prevented that. She was sure that she would find her flesh there cut to ribbons and bleeding. It was sore and felt swollen, which it was. She would be surprised to find the next day that her flesh down between her legs was not cut to pieces, only swollen and incredibly sore.
This ended Mary Piffer's first real whipping.
20
Bedding Down the Slaves
"It was a real surprise when I found out that she really did want to escape," said Susie. "I mean, like, it was a fun game until it became real. I got myself back here as quickly as I could. Oh, that's nice and tight."
The precocious teenager was being bound up for the night, a process that took a few minutes in her case because each night she was placed in tight and elaborate rope bondage, not just locked away in her cell as some of the guests were. In this case, she was being secured in a position most women would have found reason to complain about. It had started out with her standing on her feet in the middle of one of the punishment rooms. She wore no clothing, as was the custom of Chateau LeGrand, but did have on a pair of high heel shoes of shinning black leather with ankle straps to prevent them being tossed off. Her wrists had been bound in front of her body, palms facing each other, then her elbows bound together.
A long rope descended from her wrists to lay upon the floor like a still snake. But it had only a few seconds to rest before it was picked up, passed between her legs and tied to an over head pulley. As Mistress Monique held her thumb on the button, an electric motor hidden in the ceiling pulled up the slack, eventually forcing Susie's arms down and then between her legs. This forced the girl to bend over more and more until face was down near her knees and her arms were completely between her legs and passing up her back side. When the rope was finally stopped, the teenager's hands were just a little bit above her waist.
"Boy, you've got me in an awkward position," she commented with interest. "I don't think I can get free of this."
"That is the intent. The only way you could possibly free yourself would be to fall forward until you rolled out of this. But, as you can see, I am tying your ankles to these small rings in the floor so that you will be unable to do that."
"Yes, I see. My wrists are quite tightly bound and I noticed that the knots are all up at my elbows. I don't think I'll be able to work my hands free."
"That is my opinion, also." Monique was not bragging, simply stating a fact.
"What happened to that Mary?" asked Susie. "Was she punished for trying to escape?"
"Of course she was. A slavegirl does not try to escape. Such disobedience has to be punished. Much of her skin is very sore tonight. An escape attempt earns you a whipping. Surely you understand that."
"Guess I do. But what I don't understand is why she wanted to get away. Wasn't she enjoying her stay here?"
Monique smiled but tried not to show it to Susie. 'The slave in question was not enjoying her stay. It is unusual, but she was actually not here with her permission."
"What! You mean she's not a slavegirl. I mean, well, I'm not a slavegirl in the usual sense, just while I'm here. But Mary wasn't sent here by her mother or husband or something?"
"She was sent her by her husband, however she was not a willing partner to the plan."
"You mean she was kidnapped? Oh, wow!"
"The man lied to us. We thought that she, like you, enjoyed such treatment. And that her protests and resistance was merely part of the scene for her."
"Wow! No wonder she wanted out. But what will happen when her stay is up?"
"You need not worry your so young mind about that. We will take care of slavegirl Mary. Now, your feet are secured. Can you move them?"
"Of course not. You've got them spread and tied quite well. Am I actually going to have to spend the entire night like this? It's not very comfortable."
Monique smiled. "It will get worse."
"You mean..."
"Yes. Open your mouth."
Susie obediently opened her mouth to admit the ball gag. It was strapped tightly in place and the teenager was silent for the night.
For a few minutes Monique remained in the punishment room, enjoying the sight of this so lovely teenage girl, the tight ropes, the strained muscles that she knew would be protesting before midnight and screaming with pain before morning. It was a terrible position to tie any girl in, even a flexible young thing like this, but Monique was quite pleased with the result. Already those lovely, slender legs were showing the strain, the muscles firm and taunt. Monique teased the back of one thigh with her fingernails. She could see the shiver it sent racing along the youthful muscles. It was a shame this position so covered up that young pussy, she thought. Even those delightfully proud breasts were hidden behind arms and body. It would have been very nice to tease nipples until the girl was moaning with pent up lust. And the look in those eyes... Ah, wonderful! They positively glowed with excitement.
With a sigh Mistress Monique removed her fingers from their light caress of the girl's flank. Perhaps the following night she would take this young thing to bed with her. There were some positions that only such a slender youth could be bound into... The lovemaking would be exquisite.
She turned out the light and closed the door, switching the small sign to "occupied." She made a note to try and be present when the girl was untied in the morning. She wished to see the look of agony on her face after ten hours of that stressful position. Would that gleam still be there, or would she see only defeat and suffering?
In the twisted logic of Chateau LeGrand, being bound standing with your head between your legs was a reward, not a punishment. Susie had informed them of the location of the escaped slavegirl Mary, saving them a great deal of trouble. She deserved a reward.
Monique had been tempted to place Mary next to Susie, in exactly the same position, with the same ropes holding her. But in that case, the position would have been a punishment, not a reward. And Mary would have seen it as exactly that. How strange that two women having to endure the same suffering would one consider it reward and the other punishment. But all things are relative, thought Monique. Isn't that what Einstein said?
She dropped in to check on the condition of slave Colleen McMasters. The beautiful redhead was laying on the floor of a room, her body held tightly in a position that resembled a hogtie but was not. Her arms had been bound behind her back with the wrists crossed and elbows linked but not forced together. Then she was placed face down upon the floor. Her legs were spread wide and a rope looped around each ankle. Those ankle ropes were pulled up to rings on the wall before her face, to the corners so that her legs not only spread at the knees but also outward after the knee bend. It was awkward but not particularly painful. An additional rope had been tied to her wrists and then down between her legs to the opposite wall where it was secured. That was to prevent her from wiggling towards the wall in front of her and loosening those tethers tied to her ankles. It was a good position, slightly uncomfortable but not a punishment. She would sleep well and awake refreshed for a new day of bondage demonstrations and punishments upon her helpless nudity.
Monique noted that the gag was one of the simple metal bit gags, a nuisance but not overly uncomfortable. She flipped off the light and re-closed the door.
The recently punished escapee slavegirl was in her cell rather than one of the punishment rooms. The fresh whip marks covering her body were still painful to the touch as well as the memory, and Monique deemed that additional punishment was not needed. Not at this time, at least. But she checked in on the slavegirl, as was her custom.
Mary was weighted down with numerous chains and handcuffs, all designed to allow her slight movements but no real freedom. She could twist this way or that, shuffle a pitiful few inches back and forth, but basically not wander from her position in the center of her cell. Handcuffs held her arms behind her, at both wrists and elbows. An addition pair joined her ankles. A chain was looped around her waist and padlocked snugly in place. And a metal collar had been fitted about her neck, a collar with four rings attached. The rings in the walls of her cell and the cell door itself had then been used to secure her in the middle of her cell. Chains ran from each of the rings in her collar to rings in the walls, with only the slightest slack in each. More chains ran from her waist chain, again with very little slack. Additional chains had been locked to the handcuffs holding her arms and ankles, again securing her in a standing position in the middle of the cell. Had she wished to do so, she could have allowed herself to sag within the restraints, they would have held her up. Not very comfortably, but still she would not have sank to the floor. Mary blinked at the sudden light but had apparently not been sleeping.
"Comfy?" asked Monique.
"Go to hell," came a half hearted reply.
"Oh, good, you still have some spirit! I will make sure that it takes a long time to break it. There is no rush."
Mary finally focused upon the face of her tormentor. "You bastards plan to keep me here forever, don't you?"
"That was not our original plan, but it is now," said Monique honesty.
"My husband did this, didn't he?"
"Yes. Most slavegirls who are guests here do so for two weeks, or sometimes four. It was his intent that you remain our permanent guest right from the start."
"I figured it out. I've had lots of time to think. You don't allow me to do much else."
"A slavegirl does as much or little as her master or mistress allows." "I'm not a slavegirl."
"You are, you just don't realize it yet." Monique turned to go but paused. "Your whip marks will be allowed to heal," she informed. "Then you will be whipped again."
"Why?"
"You must learn not to attempt escape. We will not give you the chance, but it is important that a slavegirl understands her place. A properly trained slavegirl would shun escape even if it were forced upon her."
"I am not a slavegirl." There was very little resolve behind the statement.
"We had begun your training in the lesbian arts, that will continue. Eventually you will be a very submissive and obedient slave. It's too bad your master doesn't wish your return. He would see how good a job we could do." "I am not a slavegirl, and that bastard is not my master."
"Actually, he is. I have some papers for you to sign that will remove your legal hold of marriage over him. No longer will he be a husband, so he must be your master."
"I will not sign them."
Monique laughed. "Of course you will! We have ways. But go ahead and resist, that will make it more fun. For me, that is."
Mary did not reply, telling herself that she was wasting her breath with these people. She would just have to bide her time, awaiting her chance to escape again.
"You are foolish to hope for escape," Monique told her. "I can see it in your eyes, that almost hidden, dim light of hope. Well, know this, we will not give you the chance again." She paused to let that sink in. "I like the way you look standing up like that. Perhaps we'll secure you this way every night. I'm sure you will learn to sleep standing up. A girl can adept to anything. Goodnight."
Monique was gone before Mary could think of a proper retort. If there was any such thing.
21
Typical Night in a Slave Hotel
"It is a contest," announced Master Fredrick in a loud, theatrical voice. "A contest between two slavegirls, both of whom have benefited from our training. In this corner is Colleen, the slavegirl and property of Master Ken. She has the size advantage and strength advantage." He dramatically waved a hand in the direction of Colleen as she stood in one corner of the small room.
It was an unusual room, literally the padded cell of lunatic asylums, with a floor so soft and deep that all who walked on it almost bounced. And the walls were also padded with a soft, leather-like material. Colleen stood in the corner, facing out, watching intently both the two Chateau LeGrand staff members and her opponent. She was as she had been since before she arrived at this slave hotel, completely naked save for the ropes which held her hands behind her back, crossed and well bound.
"And in the other corner," Master Fredrick continued, "is Susie, owned by Mistress Tanya, less experienced at being in restraints, and younger, but with the energy of youth." He waved towards the eager teenager who could hardly keep still in her corner. She was likewise naked and her hands bound behind her in the same manner.
"Both are restrained in the same manner. This contest is to the finish. The winner will spend the night wearing only the ropes she currently does now (a rather comfortable condition for Chateau LeGrand, no?), and in the Red Pleasure Room where she will experience the delights of slave Janet, who had proven most expert at lesbian lovemaking." He turned to wink at Mistress Monique who was standing by the door. "The loser will spend the night..." he paused dramatically, "...suspended over the snake pit. Which, I may point out, has on occasion driven slavegirls mad with fear."
"Get on with it," muttered Mistress Monique under her breath.
"The rules are simple. You both may do anything you wish to the other. The first girl who drives the other into an orgasm will be the winner."
Both naked slavegirls looked puzzled.
"You heard me. Make your opponent hit a climax first and you win. Mistress Monique and I will be the judges as to who first climaxes."
Susie was the first to recover. She quickly rushed across the room and pushed Colleen up against the padded wall. Then she began sucking on one nipple before the older girl realized what was happening. When it dawned on her that this teenager was eager and knew what she was doing, Colleen pushed away from the wall and fled to a neutral corner. Susie followed, looking for a chance to use her mouth and tongue upon the sensitive body parts of her opponent. Colleen kept moving so as not to give Susie the chance to pin her into a corner.
"I should add," said Master Fredrick with a huge grin on his face, "that the snake pit has plenty of room above it. If neither of you reaches a climax in thirty minutes, you both will spend the night hanging over those crawly reptiles."
"You mean it's a real snake pit?" asked Colleen in disbelief.
"Eck!" proclaimed Susie. Suddenly she turned her back and approached Colleen with her bound hand extended behind her, fingers open and ready to grab the furry pubic patch of her opponent.
Colleen, not being stupid, knew that she couldn't let that happen, so she swung her right foot sideways in front of her, sweeping Susie's feet out from under her. The teenager went down and Colleen was quickly on top of her. Unfortunately, the older girl could not use her hands and tried first to pin the youngster to the floor with her body weight. Susie was stuck for a while, face down on the padding, but she managed to wiggle out from under. Quickly she was on her feet, circling away and looking for a way to pounce on Colleen, who was only on her knees.
The battle continued for a while, each girl getting a chance now and then to use her tongue on a nipple or even at a pubic patch, but neither managing to pin the other down in a position that would allow her to do any real damage. In terms of sexual excitement, that is. Truth was that this contest was exciting to both of the naked slavegirls, so they were primed, so to speak, for the erotic attentions of the other.
Fredrick and Monique watched from the door with amusement. The camera hidden behind the small opening in the ceiling also watched and remembered for later display to the owners of these two slavegirls.
It seemed that it would be an even match, the teenager being a little quicker but Colleen being a little stronger. More and more it seemed that the outcome would see both girls hanging over whatever Chateau LeGrand's version of a snake pit would prove to be. Neither girl wanted that but neither could manage the advantage of pinning her opponent into a corner so she could work her tongue upon the enemy pussy.
Suddenly Colleen stood erect from her crouch. "Susie," she said, "let's use our heads. If we continue like this, we'll both be punished. It would be stupid for both of us to suffer when one could escape it."
"Well, yeah, I guess so. Want to flip a coin?"
Colleen did not look amused. "No, but what say we both lay down, spread our legs, and allow the other to have access to our pussy? The contest then becomes which one of us is more skilled, and which can hold back the longest. And it's pretty certain one of us will come before the time limit. Agreed?"
Susie looked from Colleen to the Chateau LeGrand staff observing them, but saw no objection. "Okay," she said and immediately lay on the floor in the middle of the room.
Colleen lay down beside her, her face close to the teenager's thinner pubic patch. Both girls lifted their top legs at the same time and snuggled closer to each other. "Okay," said Colleen and pushed her face between the youthful legs to get her tongue into action. Susie followed suit. Both slaves found the other pussy to be juicy and in a fair state of excitement already.
"That Colleen is smart," whispered Mistress Monique. "Most of the slavegirls wrestle with each other until the time is up."
"Who do you expect will win?" asked Fredrick. "I think the teenager eagerness will prevail."
Monique did not answer. She didn't really have any idea who would win, and the contest was getting interesting. Both girls on the floor were moaning, the moans quite audible above the slurping sounds.
The contest didn't last long from that point. Susie was, indeed, more eager and licked faster. But Colleen, while not being greatly experienced at lesbian lovemaking, used her head. She licked slower and with more care. Then, when the results of her efforts began to make the young body before her shiver with delight, she plunged her tongue into the love tunnel and wiggled it around as deeply and strongly as she could.
Susie gasped and completely forgot her licking, so surprised was she at that maneuver. She tried to recover but her body was caught unaware and betrayed her. Under the relentless pressure of Colleen's tongue, Susie panted several times, gasped a couple more, then arched her body forward against the mouth giving her so much pleasure. She cried out with ecstasy as she came, trembling all over and clamping Colleen's head between her thighs.
"We have a winner," announced Master Fredrick, but one of the contestants wasn't listen, and the other couldn't hear with a pair of thighs pressed against her ears.
The contestants were disentangled and led off to their respective reward or punishment, as the case may be.
The Red Pleasure Room was a bedroom that appeared like something out of a French whorehouse at the turn of the century. The wallpaper was a deep red pattern of flowers. The ceiling was papered in yet another shade of red, while the floor was of sculptured, ultra thick burgundy. The bed was large, covered with scarlet velvet, and of the old fashioned brass four-poster variety. Colleen soon found out the main difference between this one and the traditional brass bed was that this one was quite solid. The legs were set into the floor, probably all the way down below the carpet to judge from how rock solid they were. And the cross pieces were equally immobile. A small fraction of the possible ways a girl could be tied to those brass pipes flashed through Colleen's mind as she was led into the room.
Mistress Monique swept back the covers to reveal scarlet satin bed sheets. How inviting and incredibly comfortable they must have seemed to a slavegirl who was used to sleeping either in her barren cell or some punishment room where rope held her from slumping to the floor when sleep finally overtook her.
When Mistress Monique left, Colleen sat on the edge of the bed and felt the satin sheets with her hands and bare bottom. It was sensuously smooth and erotic. She was tempted to lay face down on those sheet and allow the smoothness to caress her naked body. She was going to have to talk to Ken about getting some sheets like this for their bed.
Janet entered the room, the lights dimmed, and the door was locked behind her. She looked lovely as she stood there, naked skin glowing in the subdued lights, breasts thrust forward by the binding of her elbows behind her. Fresh from a disappointedly short bout of lesbian lovemaking with the teenager, Colleen viewed those soft, lovely curves with interest. Her master wasn't around and, anyway, she knew that he wouldn't object to her having some pleasure with another woman. They had never gotten around to including a second woman in their games, but they had talked about the possibility, and he had expressed a sincere interest in such games.
Janet walked up to the bed, swaying her hips in the slightly exaggerated manner she had been taught would make her more sexy and appealing, and knelt on the floor before the seated Colleen. "I am to serve you," she said simply with bowed head. "I am a trained pleasure slave. I give delight."
The short speech over, Janet lifted her head but not high enough to make eye contact. A slavegirl avoided eye contact unless it was ordered by her master or mistress. Instead her gaze was for the furry patch between Colleen's slightly parted legs. She inched forward on bended knees until the tip of her breast touched Colleen's legs. Then she bent slightly forward and began kissing the bare knees before her. Colleen simply sat there, intrigued and pleased. She could see the eager glow in this slave's eyes, and recalled being told that the lesbian training a slavegirl received at Chateau LeGrand was second to none and produced girls who could deliver erotic delights in a dozen ways or more. This was going to be interesting.
The kisses slowly progressed up her thighs, tingling nerves as those velvet lips caressed bare skin. Janet's body gently wedged between Colleen's legs, which parted. But the pubic patch was not their immediate target. As Colleen leaned back, those velvet kisses teased the bare skin next to her furry patch and worked upward from there. Gracefully rising to her feet, Janet continued the line of kisses until they were tingling the lower sides of Colleen's left breast. Fully laying back on her bound arms, Colleen closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the soft lips and teasing tongue of this slavegirl.
The Chateau LeGrand Snake Pit was exactly that: a snake pit. "Ick! They're alive!" exclaimed Susie as she was led into the special punishment room.
Alive they were. In a circular depression in the floor, about three feet below the level of her feet, a couple dozen live snakes slithered, crawled and hissed gently. Susie would have turned to go but for a strong hand upon her arm.
Directly over the pit was a hoist with a steel cable hanging down to end in a ring. Master Fredrick closed the door behind them and released the naked girl. Susie turned but found the door handle had been placed up higher than she could reach with hands bound behind her back. Meanwhile Fredrick was lowering the cable until it was resting on the concrete floor. Then he prepared the pretty teenage slavegirl for her ordeal.
Her hands were untied from wrists crossed position and retried them with palms together. Then the elbows were bound together. She was order to sit on the floor while her ankles and knees were bound with ropes. Then she was roughly turned over onto her stomach. The concrete was cold against her stomach and breasts but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. She felt the rope being bound to her ankles and knew, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, how she was going to be suspended over those wiggly, slimy creatures. When her ankles were pulled up to her hands, her fear was confirmed.
The hogtie completed, Fredrick picked up the ring and carefully tied ropes from the bound hands and feet to it. He wrapped the rope numerous times between her ankles and wrists and the ring, and knotted the rope in several places as he progressed. There was no way that those ropes would come free or even loosen, not even if this girl were to struggle with all her might all night.
As the hoist slowly lifted the ring, Susie gulped down her fear. "They won't be able to get me, will they?" she asked nervously.
"You'll be above them," Fredrick answered. "A foot or so." She gulped again. "You should worry about whether or not they can jump."
Susie frowned and thought hard. Snakes can't jump, can they? They can strike, she remembered. But jump? "They're not poisonous, are they?" "Only the ones with the red strip down the sides." About half the snakes had red strips.
"You wouldn't let them kill me. Please tell me that they can't bite me."
"You had better take care to keep your breasts away from their fangs." "My breasts? Oh, no!"
Susie realized what he was talking about as the hoist reached the point where her arms and legs had been lifted behind her and her body was starting to rise from the floor. With all her weight taken by arms and legs bound in a hogtie behind her, that youthful, slender body obeyed the demands of gravity and arched. When she was suspended in mid-air, her stomach and breasts would be the lowest parts of her. A shiver of fear raced down her spine at the thought of slimy snake fangs sinking into the soft flesh of her breasts.
"You can't do this!" she protested. "I might die!"
"You could die driving down the freeway," he pointed out reasonably. "Or sitting in your home when an airliner falls on the house. The danger just adds a little spice to the punishment, don't you agree?"
Susie glared. She was no longer in contact with the floor and the strain of that suspension was evident in the muscles of her young body. "This is going to be very uncomfortable," she pointed out. "Being tied like this all night is a torture."
"Right."
"Couldn't you tie me some other way?"
"Maybe. The last girl I tied over the pit was hung by her ankles," he lied. "She had to keep pulling her head out of the way of snakes."
Susie shut up.
Fredrick guided the cable and soon Susie was being lowered directly down into the pit.
"Oh, that's nice," cooed Colleen.
It surprised her how erotic and stimulating a female tongue could be as it roved over her breasts, lapping at the nipples now and then, other times licking the under sides of her mounds. Janet apparently knew were all the nerves were for she missed very few. Colleen was arching her back to present those breasts for the oral attention they craved.
Suddenly, but gently, the trained mouth had captured one nipple and was sucking gently upon it.
Colleen moaned.
Susie moaned. All she could see was that mass of wiggling, creepy bodies churning not far below her. They seemed to very close to her poor breasts. A few of them looked up in interest at the intruder into their pit.
"Oh, please don't do this to me," she wailed. "It's horrible!"
Slowly she twisted in mid-air, trying to keep her stomach pulled up. But the strain of keeping her body from the natural arch gravity wished to pull it into was considerable and she knew she couldn't keep it up.
"Eck! That one tried to bite me!"
Fredrick smiled as he looked down into the pit. None of them had struck but there was a very real fear in that lovely bundle of girl-flesh. He could see it in the way her fingers fluttered uselessly, and hear it in her voice.
"Oh, I'm going to die!" Susie moaned.
"Oh, I'm going to die!" moaned Colleen.
It was later in the evening, and Janet's expert tongue had worked it's way down to the pubic patch hiding Colleen's secret place. It had taken a fairly long time, but the trained slavegirl had worked the redhead up slowly, exciting her body nerve by nerve until the time was right. Then, and only then, did she descend to the furry patch between her legs. As the tongue pushed aside the labia and slowly licked the clit for the first time, Colleen had moaned her intent to die from the pleasure, and shuddered all over.
With the lesbian instinct hidden in all women, she resisted the urge to want this slave to hurry up the climb towards orgasm. The slower the ascent, the more intense the pleasure at reaching the summit, instinct told her. Only those crude males were in a rush to climax. Then it was all over and they could get back to their football and beer. Women really know how to make love.
"Oh, gawd but that's good!"
"Oh, gawd but that's terrible!"
Susie was not happy when Fredrick asked her if she would like the lights off for the night. "But you won't be able to see them if the lights are off," he explained reasonably.
"I'd rather see them. Oh, no! I mean, I'd rather not see them. Oh, you bastard! I'd rather they weren't there. Couldn't you tie me like this without the snakes? You could add clothespins on my nipples or something else to punish me. Please?"
"You were told the punishment for loosing the contest. I'll leave the lights on."
Susie heard the door close and whined at the thought of being alone. And at having to spend the whole night like this. The bondage alone was torture. Most girls couldn't take a hanging hogtie for more than a few minutes. Maybe an hour. If Susie weren't so young, slender and fit she would have suffered damage from hanging so long in that contorted position. As it was, she would spend a horrible night, and certainly wouldn't be able to sleep.
She glanced up to make sure that Fredrick had really gone. Then she smiled. "Hi, little snakes!" she called out. "Sorry I can't pet you."
Susie had once possessed a pet snake and recognized the reptiles below her as harmless garter and milk snakes. She knew that they were not interested in biting her, and were certainly not poisonous. She had just played along with the game because it was simply that: a game. They expected her to be terrified of the snake pit, so she gave them what they expected.
Besides, she told herself, if she demonstrated that she was not scared, that Fredrick hunk might have found some other way for her to spend the night, something that would have really scared her or at least been much more uncomfortable.
Not that she was going to be comfortable. The position was a strain on even her agile body, and she doubted that she would get any sleep. But what ticked her off was that this whole game was exciting and she was horny. The orgasm in that padded cell had been nice but had really only whetted her youthful appetite. Her pussy longed to be touched but she could do nothing to help it out of its misery.
Susie sighed and began testing the ropes. She was sure that she would find no way out of this bondage, but methodical testing and exploration of her limits would help pass the time.
"Oh, that was nice," said Colleen in an understatement. She was slowly coming down from a very intense orgasm that had seen her trembling all over and thrusting her pussy towards the mouth that was giving it so much pleasure.
Janet, the first portion of her assignment completed, rested on her knees beside the bed. She was in the position Robert had taught her long before, sitting on bended legs, back straight, hands behind her, and head bowed. It was a perfect position for a slavegirl: submissive, beautiful to look at, and slightly uncomfortable.
After a while Colleen rolled on to her side and looked down at the slavegirl awaiting the proper timing to begin round two. "Thank you," she said. "That was very nice."
The kneeling slavegirl said nothing. She had merely done her job.
Colleen stretched lavishly, feeling very good inside and at peace with the world. She was still a slavegirl, naked and bound inside a hotel that was more of a prison, but she was contented. This was good, she thought. Perfect.
After a while more, she looked down at the kneeling form. "Would you like me to do it to you?" Colleen asked.
Without lifting her head, Janet replied, "A slavegirl gives pleasure, she does not receive it."
Colleen thought about that for a second. 'True. A slavegirl gives pleasure. When I'm with my Master again, I will give him pleasure. But he, being a kind Master, will be concerned that I also receive pleasure. I am sort of your Mistress, at least for this night. If I ordered you to lay down, spread your legs and allow me to pleasure you, would you not have to obey?"
"I would obey, Mistress. But you do not have to do that. My only wish is to give you pleasure. My own pleasure or pain in of no importance."
"Spoken like a properly trained slavegirl," commented Colleen. "But don't piss me off. Get up here, slave!"
Janet looked up in surprise. But there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She rose and placed herself on the bed next to Colleen. The satin sheets caressed both their bodies.
"Lay back," ordered Colleen, a little less harshly than the prior order. "Present your breasts."
Janet obeyed, laying on bound arms. It required little to "present" her breasts, the elbows bound behind and under her saw to that. Colleen worked her way up to a kneeling position and bent to apply her lips and tongue to a pair of breasts with rigid nipples eager for them.
Bouncing off the walls of the pit became one of the highlights of Susie's night. By twisting her hips back and forth, she found that she could get herself to swinging at the end of her tether, far enough to actually bang into the sides of the pit. But not hard enough to hurt. Besides, it gave her something to do. The stress on her arms and legs, not to mention her back, was enough to deprive her of sleep so she had to find something to occupy her mind.
That was the one thing that Susie had come to recognize as a negative about being in bondage. It could be a terrible bore. Spending hours all alone and bound into immobility, or something close to it, gave her little to do with her body and left only her mind. And, being a teenager, she was bored easily to begin with. Boredom was the worst torture she had thus far experienced.
With the fertile imagination of a youth, she wondered if she could possible twist her hips just before she hit the side of the pit so as to make the impact upon her pussy. If she could, then she might be able to work her way up to an orgasm by bang against the concrete walls. But she couldn't twist enough and her only reward was a few small bruises on her hips.
Besides, it put more strain on her arms and legs when she swung back and forth.
When Fredrick came for her in the morning, her first impulse was to smile and show her happiness for impending release from a painful position. But quickly she suppressed that and instead hung her head down. Fredrick touched the button that lifted her inert body out of the pit, stopping it when her face was at the level of his own. "Had a nice night?" he asked.
Susie said nothing.
Master Fredrick pushed back her long hair and tilted her chin until he could look into her eyes. There was a vacant stare only, not focused-on anything. He let go and the head fell back down.
"Oh, shit, it's happened again!" he exclaimed. "Another girl's been driven insane by those damned snakes. Well, I'll just have to get her into the shock treatments. That's the only thing that might snap her back to reality. If the electrical shocks don't destroy her mind totally!"
"Electric shock! What the shit are you talking about, you sadist!" cried Susie in genuine alarm.
Fredrick laughed. "Thought you were faking. The slaves who really went insane all were drooling."
"Yeah, sure. Now how about getting me out of this damned hogtie? It hurts."
"I'm sure it does," he agreed. "That was, after all, the purpose. So you didn't mind the snakes?" / As she was lowered to the floor, Susie confessed about her pet snake named "Dragon" and how much she liked snakes. Then she moaned loudly as her arms and legs lowered to her back for the first time in eight hours.
The ropes were taken off, and Fredrick took care to slowly bring her arms down to her sides where they lay lifeless. "I don't think I'll ever move my arms again," said Susie. "They're dead."
"No, they're not. You'll be fine in a few minutes. We know how to push a slave to her physical limits but not beyond."
'Talking about pushing a girl to her limits..." said Susie in a whisper, "do you think you could do something about a very hungry pussy? I've been horny all night."
"You're a sweet young girl," said Fredrick. "But your Mother gave orders that you are to stay a virgin while you're here."
"Virgin, hell! What Mommy doesn't know won't hurt her. I'll bet you have a really huge dong. Whip it out and let me see it."
Fredrick laughed. Even if there hadn't been orders not to have sex with this slavegirl, he was sexually pooped out from playing incredibly intense sex games with Monique half the night. Games with Monique were always very intense and incredibly satisfying.
"You'll never know for sure," he told Susie. "Now get up and put your hands behind your back."
"Cruelty to children," accused Susie. "You're being mean to me." But she was smiling as she said it. And she was able to get to her feet and put her arms behind her with no trouble. The handcuffs that clicked on her were nothing after the hanging hogtie all night.
Susie was fed breakfast, given a cold water shower (which Fredrick told her was for her own good, nympho that she was), and placed in her cell. She was informed that a staffer would come for her that afternoon to punish her for calling him a bastard - true though it may be - but until then she could sleep.
She taunted him as he left by telling all who could hear that he had failed to produce his prick because he was ashamed of it's small size and funny color.
Master Fredrick was grinning but Susie could not see that.
In a different part of Chateau LeGrand, far from the Red Pleasure Room, and the Snake Pit, another of the slavegirls who were currently guests of Chateau LeGrand awoke from troubled dreams. Mary moaned as she returned to the real world and the pain of the position she had spent the night in. It was simple but effective and she had slept very little. But then, any girl would have trouble sleeping with her hands bound together and pulled up over her head until only her toes were able to touch the floor.
During the night the ropes had tightened down and given a tiny bit more slack, but in the morning only the balls of her feet were able to touch the ground, and her feet ached something terrible. Her hands were lifeless and a dark color. They would recover, the staff of Chateau LeGrand really were experts at judging each slave's limits, but the returning circulation would make her cry out when she was finally lowered.
Mary Piffer moaned and wished she had slept a little longer, preferably until the jailer came to lower her. For a while she stared down between her breasts at the rope tight about her ankles. She could just see the front edge of the white rope and the knots tied there. She could have swung her feet forwards if she had wanted to examine those ropes better, but that would have meant she would be hanging totally by her wrists, and even the small amount of relief her toes being on the floor gave her was a blessing.
It was an hour before anyone came for her, and another hour before the day's tortures began.
22
Goodbyes
All good things must come to an end.
Those are words once spoken by either a very wise man or a pessimist as his gorgeous live-in lover was walking out of his apartment and life with her new soul and room mate, another girl. But either way, the wonderful, thrill packed two weeks of the Chateau LeGrand guests did come to an end. Well, not quite, at least not for one of the guests. Poor Mary Piffer, whose only crime was being a real bitch and pain in the ass to her husband, was not being packed up for shipment back to her owner.
In a dark cell down deep beneath what used to be a wine-tasting room, the naked permanent prisoner tried to shift her position to ease the strain upon her body but could not. The ropes upon bound wrists behind her back and on ankles did not bother her much. Hell, she was getting used to merely being tied up. It was the bent over, scrunched up position she was held in by the steel-barred cage only a few millimeters larger than her body that bothered her. On her knees and with back bent until her head was against the bottom of the cage, she could only shift her head an inch either way and wiggle her fingers, so closely did the press of steel bars against her body hold her.
The preparations for departure of the other guests who had come in the same day as she had were proceeding not more than twenty yards from her prison. But she could not hear nor see them. Only a tiny bit of dim light found its way down to her prison, a stone cell not much bigger than the cage in which she hung from the low ceiling. It might have made her sad to watch the other girls being bound, created and sealed for their return trips, but she knew nothing of that.
Instead of thoughts of returning to the real world outside Chateau LeGrand, Mary's mind was filled with thoughts of the next lesson in lesbian lovemaking from the magnificent Mistress Monique, whom she was coming to love. Not openly admitted, that love, but real and growing. The training sessions where she was forced to perform - and perform well - all sorts of oral and degrading sexual acts were becoming the only bright spots in her life. She looked forward to when next she would be taken from whatever horrible punishment she was enduring, cleaned up and made pretty, then taken into the presence of her Mistress. Her arms were always bound behind her with a cruelty that brought pain. But she still had come to love each second she was forced to lavish her oral attention upon that perfect body. Terrible acts of depravity she would have been nauseated by a couple weeks before, she was coming to enjoy and eagerly seek out.
It was a strange love affair, and Mary's only great fear was that some day Mistress Monique would tire of her. Then life would truly be terrible.
The object of Mary's wishful mind was walking towards the garage along side Master Fredrick. "This was a good bunch," she was saying. "Had some fun with them. Of course, we have to keep Mary. But I think she'll become a good slavegirl. I've been training her personally."
"I know you have. Just don't forget that we are being paid by her husband to torture her daily and provide him with video tapes of that."
"She's being tortured daily," said Monique with a smile. "Right now she's in the solitary cage. The smallest cage. Had trouble fitting her into it."
"I'll bet you did. Did you have to sit on the lid to force it to close?"
"Of course. Does no good if the cage is bigger than the girl."
They came to the garage area. One van was already awaiting them but none of the slaves had yet been brought in. Fredrick checked his list. "First one will be Colleen. She really seemed to enjoy her stay."
"A happy guest is a repeat guest, Sir John always says," commented Monique gaily. "I think we'll see Colleen again."
The slavegirl in question was brought in at that point. She was wearing a pair of black leather high heels of four inch height, tall enough to making walking a bit awkward for a girl not used to using such. Her arms were already bound behind her with elbows together, and rope passing up and over her shoulders to help lock her elbows together. She brightened up when she saw Mistress Monique and Master Fredrick.
"Hi! Sorry to be leaving. You have a fun place here. Hope I'll be back some day."
"Gag her," growled Master Fredrick but good naturedly. "Hate talkative slaves."
A ball gag was almost immediately shoved into her mouth by a helpful staff member. He was buckling the strap tight behind her head while another staff member rolled in a wooden crate. It was square, stout and padded inside. It also looked almost too small to fit a girl the size of Colleen, and she frowned when she saw it. Her eyebrows went up in the unasked question, "Me in there?"
Mistress Monique walked over to the slavegirl and tapped the inside of her thighs with a riding crop. Colleen, having been fairly well trained by now, spread her legs wide, a maneuver not easily done on high heels. Monique reached a hand down to the pubic patch and gently stroked Colleen there. The slave pressed her hips forward a bit at the pleasant touch and had a certain glow in her eyes that Monique recognized easily.
"Sorry, no orgasm this time. But I wanted to make sure that you were juicy enough for a little good-bye present."
The present was a six inch long, bullet-shaped vibrator of silver color. Monique knelt down and separated her labia with fingers of one hand while inserting the tip of the vibrator with the other. It easily penetrated a couple inches but Monique held it there. "Henry, bring that rope here. Good. Tie a loop around her waist. Good. Leave the rest hanging down. Thank you."
Holding the vibrator in one hand, Monique took the hanging rope and jerked it tight around Colleen's waist. Then she turned the base of the vibrator. Suddenly Colleen's expression changed from interest to shock. Powerful waves of stimulating vibration were spreading into her sex, and that was having an effect on a pussy already half excited. Monique pushed and the vibrator slide up into the welcoming sheath like an old friend returning home. Monique pushed until only the very base of the vibrator was still in the open air. Then she brought down her other hand and passed the rope over that end.
The vibrator was tied in place with tight ropes passed many times between the wide spread legs. Before disappearing beneath the ropes, the mechanical beast had disappeared into the soft flesh enveloping it. "When you get home," offered Monique after tying the final knot, "the battery will be dead. But it's a very powerful and long-lasting battery. Will probably last at least two hours. Maybe three."
Colleen looked at her with a frown. Three hours! What a torture for a girl who was feeling the first orgasm coming on already. She tried to smile her thanks but was rapidly being consumed by a sensation she could not control. Quickly the staffers bound her legs together and then placed her within the square box on her knees. She was pushed down until she was sitting on her legs, then forward until her head was down by her knees. Heavy, wide leather straps then went over her body, holding it tightly down to the box.
Monique watched as the final strap was tightened down as hard as the man could pull it. She noticed the small tremors in the muscles of her hips and legs as sexual passion began to take over that lovely body. Lucky girl, she thought as the lid was closed and padlocked.
For a while the box sat on the concrete floor, very similar to the steel cage holding Mary. But one slavegirl was suffering while the other was not only feeling her body build up forcefully towards an intense orgasm, she was going home.
"Isn't that unfair?" asked Master Fredrick when Mistress Monique returned to his side. "I mean, she'll be sexually exhausted when she gets home."
"True. How's that unfair?"
"She's going to be delivered to a Master who hasn't seen her for two weeks. And who has been watching tapes of her being punished, restrained for the night, forced into lesbian lovemaking, but hasn't been able to touch her. Wouldn't you say that he might want to screw his slavegirl immediately?"
"Maybe. Probably." Monique smiled wickedly. "That's Colleen's problem. I'll venture she gets screwed whether she wants it or not. But then, what are slavegirls for?"
Fredrick shared her chuckle.
The box was finally picked up by the two male staffers and set in the back of the van. It was strapped down to the floor of the van so it wouldn't shift around, then an electrical wire was plugged into a tiny hole in the side of the box. During the long drive the slavegirl would be monitored. The drivers might find it interesting to know each time that she experienced an orgasm.
The van drove away.
The next in was Janet, looking very sad. She was naked as usual but her hands were bound in front of her, palms to palms. It was very rare than any slavegirl in that place was bound with hands in front of them. As she looked at Monique, a flash of pain crossed her face, but quickly she lowered her head and averted her eyes. It was obvious to all present that she did not want to leave her mistress.
A car was driven in, the same one that she had been driven to Chateau LeGrand in. Master Fredrick handed the clipboard to Monique and approached Janet to supervise her restraints. He took a length of rope and looped it around her elbows, then cinched it down. Another length of rope was tied to that already around her hands, then her arms were folded up until her hands were just below her chin. He tied the rope around her neck and hands until they were solidly secured. It was an awkward position that placed no small amount of strain upon the poor girls arms. Her hands were spread on either side of her face, she could not move the fingers from that position. There was a lot of strain on her elbows and the arms were crushing her breasts.
Fredrick ordered her to spread her legs. She did instantly. Then he picked up a small jar from a shelf. He spread the contents liberally inside her vagina and over all the soft flesh around it, including a great deal right over her clitoris. Then he stepped back and motioned for the staffers to finish her binding.
The jar was returned to the shelf and Fredrick wiped his hand carefully on a towel before returning to Monique. "The usual?" she asked.
"Of course. Her cunt will itch, burn and grow incredibly hot over the next few hours." He watched as the men bound her legs together. "She'll get so horny that she'll want to scream." They put a coat over her body. The hands showed at the top but not the rope around the wrists. "She'll want to touch herself so bad it will drive her crazy."
Monique nodded agreement. She had once asked Fredrick to bind her tightly in a hogtie after placing that same cream on and in her pussy. She then spent a horrible four hours of agony until the cream began to wear off. She had wanted to experience what it was like for the guests, and she learned. As a sexual stimulant, that cream was incredible.
She'll be ready for sex when she gets home," she commented. "Unfortunately she'll also be emotionally exhausted from the intense frustration." She watched as an oval piece of metal was inserted into her mouth. A screw at the base of the gag was turned until it could be turned no more. The gag expended, filling her mouth and pressing her tongue down. But her lips could close on the outside, leaving little to show that she was silenced. In a close examination, it would appear only as if she had a mouth full of food.
They picked her up and deposited her in the back seat, then buckled her in with the massive seat belts that was special equipment of that car. The last touch was to put a pair of sunglasses on her face, a pair specially made for this purpose.
They fitted close to the skin all around the eyes and were completely opaque. She would see nothing of her trip.
"Susie's last," said Monique when the car had driven out. "I'll miss that girl, she's fun."
The teenager girl in question was brought in just then, and was still, after two weeks of the most strict, most severe bondage imaginable, bright-eyed and eager for new experiences. "Hi, Freddy! Hi, Monique, sweetie! How's the slavery business?"
"Impertinence is punishable," said Fredrick.
"So what are you going to do to me? Send me home with a note to my Mother?" laughed Susie.
Monique strode to the naked teenager girl's side. Her arms were tied behind her back with the elbows together but that was the only restrain upon her youthful body. Without warning, Monique slashed out with her riding crop to catch the girl along her left flank. "Ouch!" she cried. Instinctively she turned the injured flank away from the woman holding the whip. Mistake. The riding crop slashed the other flank with a hard stroke. Another cry of protest.
"I can still punish you. How would you like to leave here with your cunt and asshole filled with ice cubes?"
"You wouldn't do that...? Would you?" she said meekly. "Never mind, I believe you would. Well then, I'm sorry, Mistress Monique. And Master Fredrick. I'm a good, obedient, submissive little slavegirl."
"You're a sassy, impertinent teenager filled with crap. Your Mother should punish you severely every day until you learn some manners." Monique tapped the young but pert breast with the riding crop.
"She may," said Susie quietly. "I'm sure things will be different from now on."
"Well, good luck in getting what you want. You've got a lot of training ahead of you."
"I'll miss you," said Susie sincerely. "And Master Fredrick. Tell him that I don't really think he has a gnat- sized penis. Nor that it's shriveled up and greenish-grey."
Monique laughed. "It isn't. And I'll miss you, too." She leaned forward and kissed Susie on the lips, a kiss that was returned with feeling.
The car was driven in and Susie's transportation box unloaded. Susie got a suddenly case of the giggles. It was a coffin, a real, honest-to-goodness coffin. And the car was a hearse.
But they were serious. More rope was wrapped around her arms and body until she could only wiggled fingers. Then Monique personally kicked her legs wide open and smeared the cream over the youthful sex, but not inside. Susie noted how Monique had paused before deciding not to insert the cream filled finger inside her vagina. "Is that stuff suppose to make me all hot and bothered? Is it? Good. Go ahead and put it in there. I might as well get the full dose."
"It will drive you crazy," cautioned Monique.
"Great. Pour it in. I'm so horny right now that I'd beg Freddy over there to screw me if I thought he might. What's a little more?"
Monique smiled and shrugged. "You'll soon regret your rashness," she said.
"I often do. Hey, that's beginning to feel hot already. And it sort of itches."
Monique put away the cream and wiped her hand. Susie's preparation continued. The long, young legs were tied together with much very tight rope. Then a gag consisting of a big rubber wad with attached straps was pushed into her mouth and buckled tightly in place. The teenager was finally silenced.
They put her into the coffin, which was padded and contained half a dozen wide leather straps to assist the ropes in holding the prisoner immobile. There was no doubt that she would be very secure for the trip. Just before the coffin lid was closed, Monique watched fascinated the expression in those youthful eyes as the cream began to work in earnest. She knew what the girl was going through and that she would both hate and love what was happening to her during that trip.
The coffin was tilted onto the sliding rack and inserted into the hearse. Then Susie was gone.
Monique sighed. "Another group gone. How sad."
"We get four new ones this afternoon," said Fredrick. "One of them is here to be trained by us to be a lesbian because her family can't stand the way she is now."
"What do you mean?" asked Monique.
"She's a nymphomaniac. Constantly having sex with anything male that's alive and able to get an erection. They're tired of trying to keep her from getting pregnant and figure that won't be a problem if she's a lesbian."
Monique grinned. "Interesting. A challenge."
"For sure. Her father told us to watch any of the male staff members or this girl would rape them." Monique laughed. "I told him that's ever happened yet, but we'd stay on the alert."
"And she's attractive," asked Monique, licking her lips with the tip of her tongue.
"A knock out, as the Americans say. Won several beauty contests until the found her bribing the judges with her body. Not that such bribing is all so unusual."
"Freddy, you're making me horny just talking about her. Want a quickie before lunch?"
"Monique you're impossible. And don't call me Freddy, I don't like it."
"Well, what are you going to do about it... Freddy?"
With a sigh he took the riding crop out of Monique's hand. "Get along to your room. Run. If you're not naked and kneeling on the bed when I get there, you'll spend all tonight impaled on a dildo post. With the cream smeared up your ass."
"Promises, promises..." Monique said as she hurried along towards her room. But not too fast.
23
Return of a Slavegirl
They left her standing in the middle of the front room. Except for the seat belts having been taken off, Janet Walker was in the same condition as she had been when driven out of Chateau LeGrand, bound up, gagged and covered with a coat. Robert closed the door on the departing Chateau LeGrand staff members before turning to his slavegirl.
The coat came off easily, revealing her naked body and bound arms and legs. He turned the screw they had pointed out on the gag until it shrank enough to be removed. Then he took off the sunglasses. Janet worked her jaw a bit to get rid of the ache but said nothing.
Robert noted the erect nipples and smell of a juicy pussy and knew that Janet was sexually excited, so he grabbed her pussy roughly with one hand. She jerked as if shocked. How was he to know just how sensitive her sex was after hours of enduring an irritant designed to make her sexually excited. But she held her tongue and allowed her master to fondle her sex.
"So you've been trained to do all kinds of things," he said with a sneer. "I saw what you were doing on those tapes, pretty fantastic, some of those things. Well, let's see just how well you've been trained. And who tied your hands in front of you?"
Robert untied the hands, which was the one thing in the world that Janet wanted, even more than sex. Her arms were aching something terrible from the unnatural position they had been bound in and it was a wonderful relief to have them fall to her sides.
Not that Robert allowed her much freedom. He gathered up her arms behind her and bound them again with the same rope that had just come off them. Janet didn't mind. Constant restraints was nothing new to her by now, and the arms simply being bound behind her, even with the elbows together, was a relief compared to the way they had been. She meekly followed as he led her to the bedroom.
She knew immediately that there had been another woman there while she was gone. Nothing so obvious as a pair of strange panties laying on the floor, but a woman knows. Maybe there was a lingering scent from this other woman, maybe some subtle visual clue, but whatever, she knew. And she said nothing. It was good to be home, and if her master had been with another woman, that was his business. She knelt in the usual place in the corner.
The whipping of her bottom was the same as usual, save harder than was normal. But when he told her to get up and come to the bed, it was not so she could be placed on her bound arms and screwed to a fare-the-well as had been their custom. Instead he ordered her to kneel behind him and perform an oral act which she would have been repulsed by two weeks before. She did not hesitate and performed to the best of her ability.
There followed several other degrading and gross acts, all of which she obeyed and performed with an eagerness that was a wonder to behold. Robert was enjoying himself. This was more like it. An obedient slavegirl she had been, but she had expected some respect as his wife. Now she expected nothing and gave everything. Great!
He abused her body, pinching and twisting her nipples until even Janet cried out in pain. He forced her into every crude sex act he could think of, and that a girl could do with her arms bound behind her. Finally he had her suck on his penis until he came in her mouth. Without being told to, she swallowed it all, and then licked his limp penis clean with her tongue. This was great stuff!
He gave her a meal of dog food which she had to eat out of a dish on the kitchen floor. Later he had her perform several additional sex acts that he had thought of in the meantime, and left her on the floor at the foot of his bed for the night. Her arms were left bound behind her back, but she didn't protest. Her ankles had been bound together, and a short chain locked around her neck and the bed leg. She could squirm around on the hard wood floor so long as her neck did not venture more than twelve inches from the bed.
In the morning he removed the ropes and allowed her a shower before she had to fix his breakfast with hands joined before her by handcuffs. After breakfast (hers eaten dogie style on the floor) he fixed her for the day and went off to his office.
Janet was not left comfortable, there can be no denying that. Her wrists were joined by handcuffs behind her. Another pair on her ankles hobbled her. But what was worst was the chain that had secured her neck to the bed the night before. One end was now locked around her neck and the other end locked to the handcuffs on her ankles. Since that chain was only a couple feet long, that forced her to bend over. She could sit on the bed or a chair but only if she were bent forward, her chin less than a foot from her knees. She could lay on her back with her knees bent enough to keep her feet up over her, but that wasn't too comfortable.
For most of the day she lay on her side on the bed, legs bent to keep the strain off her neck. Now and then she would get up and hobble around the place in a very awkward and painful bent over position. For a while she watched soap operas but the petty lives of fictional characters didn't interest her.
Finally Robert came home. She was allowed the freedom of hands locked in front of her and ankles secured by handcuffs while she fixed dinner. Hers was eaten from a bowl on the floor, of course. Then there was an evening filled with sexual oddities, gross acts, and verbal abuse, all of which she endured in complete obedience and silence. Bed time saw her again chained by the neck to the bed leg, the only difference being that this time her arms were secured by handcuffs behind her back and on her ankles instead of ropes.
The morning was a repeat of the prior day. This day - as a joke it must have been for he laughed at her after locking the last padlock - her neck had been chained to the handcuffs around her ankles by only enough chain so that her head was between her knees. He left her sitting on the bed, legs bent with knees spread as wide as the handcuffs on her ankles allowed, and her head between them, hands behind her back.
Half an hour after he left, Janet tried rolling onto her side but that position was no more comfortable than the sitting one. She didn't try to roll on her back, it would only hurt her cuffed wrists and wouldn't be any more comfortable to have her legs bent back and her feet over her pussy.
As she lay there, confined in an awkward and uncomfortable position, she did some thinking. The first thing that she realized was that in almost two days of being home with her husband, she had not had normal sex with him once. Nor had he granted her sexual release in any fashion. Except for those periods when she was to fix the meals and under his watchful eye, her hands had not been allowed in front of her. And it is hard for a girl to masturbate with hands secured behind her back. Being able to masturbate right then would have been a pleasure. She had come home emotionally exhausted from the incredible frustration and heat in her loins, but horny and quite willing to get a good screwing from her husband. Instead she got screwed (different meaning of the same word).
Robert seemed so very occupied with his new toy, a slavegirl for whom he could find no sexually degrading act too unspeakable and repulsive for her to refuse to perform. Her tongue and mouth and a couple times her hands were getting plenty of attention, but not her pussy. And that was the part that ached with longing.
As she lay on the bed, aware that it was noon and she had managed to make it through the morning, Janet hoped that Robert's preoccupation with crude sex acts would wane and he would return to being a husband/master who enjoyed whipping his slave's ass and screwing her until she couldn't stand it any longer. She managed to nap for part of the afternoon and woke up with a sore neck and just as horny as ever.
That evening marked a new phase in her slavery. Robert brought home a friend of his, a male friend he could show off his slavegirl to. And, after demonstrating how awkward it was for her to walk around the place so chained up, and how her bottom could be turned bright red with a couple dozen quickly delivered slashes of a belt, a male friend that he could give his slavegirl to.
As Janet lay on the bed on her back, legs held up and spread as wide as possible with ankles joined by handcuffs, and the stranger pumping away inside her, she was racked with terrible emotions. She was finally getting the screwing she had so badly wanted for two days. But it was not from the man she loved. She had been humiliated and degraded in front of a strange man, which would not have been so terrible because she was a trained slavegirl, after all, but she had also given to him to use as a sex object, nothing more. He grunted as he came inside her. Janet felt dirty inside and did not have anything near a climax herself.
After the man left, she had to take a shower to clean herself and fix dinner. Then it was another whipping on an already sore bottom and to bed where she had to lavish attention on his sexual organs with her tongue, ending when he came in her mouth.
The next morning she was again left in handcuffs and chains, her neck only a foot and a half from her ankles. She cried for an hour after Robert left her.
It was on that third day that a miracle happened.
Shortly before noon there was a sound and Janet wondered why Robert had returned home so early. But it was not Robert. A lovely woman entered the room, tall and elegant in a light summer dress of softest greens that matched the emerald ring on her finger. The light weight dress did nothing to hide a very fine figure, nor the fact that she wore no bra.
"Janet!" exclaimed the woman. From her awkward position on the bed and through teary eyes, Janet recognized her friend, Julie. She said nothing, not sure if she were embarrassed to be found naked and chained up like an animal, or glad to see someone.
Julie looked over the slavegirl and put her hands on her hips. "Robert did this, right? He's really into that kind of stuff. You don't look too happy. I remember when you were first telling me how he tied you up and spanked your bottom before having sex. You were so excited about it and thought it was pretty good stuff. But you don't look happy now."
"I'm not," she admitted.
"Want to talk about it? I came over because I think I left something here. But I've got most of the day free."
"You left something here?" asked Janet.
"You do know, don't you? All the while you were gone Robert had me over here almost every night. My bottom is still sore from that little whip and my wrists chaffed from handcuffs."
"No, I didn't know." Janet sounded sad. She had hoped that Robert would sleep alone and miss her.
"Well, baby, you got a lot to learn about your husband." Julie sat on the edge of the bed. "That doesn't look too comfortable. Want me to unlock you?"
"Probably shouldn't. Robert wouldn't like it."
"Robert can go to hell. And if you want, I'll lock you up again before I leave. Okay?"
"Okay."
The handcuff keys were stored on Robert's key ring but a spare set were in a small wooden box hidden on top of the tall dresser. Janet knew this but could not reach up that high so hadn't tried to free herself. It was a relief to be able to straighten out. And the removal of the handcuffs from her wrists and ankles was most welcome, too. ' Janet fingered the handcuffs for a moment, lingering over the shinning steel surface still warm from her body. Then she sat the handcuffs down and shifted her body off the bed. She knelt before Julie and placed her arms around her legs. Without looking up, she hugged Julie's legs most sincerely. "Thank you very much," she said. Then, with her face against the thighs, she reached up one hand to clasp Julie's round bottom. "Can I show you how grateful I am?" she asked sincerely.
"Well," said Julie. "Robert bragged about how trained you would be when you came home. He planned to make you do all sorts of sexual acts on me. He bragged about how you would be a perfectly trained sexual machine designed to please both men and women."
Janet did not dispute Robert's claims. She lifted her other hand to gently clasp the other globe of that fine bottom and buried her face into Julie's dress, right below the Vee of her legs. The intent was obvious.
"Yes," said Julie. "You may show me how grateful you are." She took the sides of her dress and lifted until the garment cleared her hips. It continued right over her head and was tossed on the floor. Janet pulled down the panties. Gently she guided Julie to the bed and on her back. She began with the breasts, kissing and teasing with her tongue in the expert manner she had been taught.
"Oh, that feels good. Robert was right, you've been well trained."
"I've been trained to be a good slavegirl," said Janet. "But I'm doing this because I want to, not because Robert expects me to."
"You really think of yourself as a slavegirl? I mean, a real one?"
"Yes." The lips returned to a rigid nipple they had been caressing. "Do you want to stay with Robert?"
The question brought Janet's head up suddenly. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just don't know."
Julie lifted up on her elbows. "You're a slavegirl. Doesn't a slavegirl have to have a master?"
"Or a Mistress..." added Janet with a strange look on her face.
"Or a Mistress," repeated Julie. "You wish to serve a Master or Mistress?"
"Of course. I am a slavegirl." She looked down at the handcuffs still laying on the bed. "And I like it. I like the ropes and handcuffs and being ordered to give pleasure. I am a ilavegirl. But..."
"But what?"
"It is hard to say. But I am also a person and want to be loved. I was a slavegirl to Robert and he loved me. Now there is no love."
Julie rose from the bed to stand over Janet. "We have some talking to do. I would like to have a slavegirl," she declared boldly. "A lovely creature such as yourself who would be my pet to keep and own. A creature who I would keep in chains and ropes. A pet who would obey my slightest whim to please me. But a slave who I would love."
For a few seconds the two girls looked each other steadily in the eye. Then Janet got off the bed. She turned back and picked up the handcuffs. She locked a cuff on one wrist then put her hands behind her and locked the other wrist in steel, both the cuffs pushed down until the steel edges dug into her flesh. Then she lowered herself to her knees and buried her face in Julie's furry patch.
Julie spread her legs to allow her slavegirl to perform as she was trained for. Later she helped Janet pack a the few things that were important to her. When they drove to Julie's luxury apartment, Janet was wearing only a tee shirt and a pair of cut off jeans, both very tight on her body. Her hands were locked behind her back, but no one really noticed. The few men who happened to be standing next to the car when it stopped at a signal only stared at the pair of very fine breasts so on display. None even guessed that this was a slavegirl on her way to a new slavery and way of life.
24
Perfect Slavegirl
The box was opened after the delivery men left. Colleen McMasters, stiff and sore from many hours confinement in a small space, rose slowly when the straps were taken off. Aching muscles were a part of her stiffness, but a female body exhausted by orgasms too numerous to count explained much of her exhaustion.
Ken was surprised when he removed the ropes and a silver vibrator made its exit from her love tunnel. The spent condition of its batteries matched what she felt. But before her hands were untied, she pressed her body against Ken's and kissed his lips with real feeling. She was so glad to be with her man. And master.
Over dinner she told him that her poor little pussy was nerve numb, and would he mind waiting until the next day to use it for his pleasure? In the meantime, she would be happy to provide oral service that she was sure he would enjoy. And while she was tightly bound up, of course. He, being a loving and kind master, allowed that he would be satisfied with oral sex for that night, but that his slavegirl would have to spend the night in a pretty vicious hogtie beside him in bed. She eagerly agreed.
Ken also insisted on her having a shower before they retired for the night. She had been sweating quite a bit in that padded box.
That night, after a lot of kissing and fondling of her naked and hogtied body, he finally guided his rock hard prick to her eager mouth and allowed her to do what she did so well. Later, while he held her body against his, her bound arms and legs away from him, they talked. She had many tales to tell, some of which he already knew from the tapes he had watched. She wanted red satin bed sheets and promised him they would be worth the cost. She suggested several new positions that her body might be tied in, some quite elaborate and probably very uncomfortable. Then she informed him that she wished for them to bring another girl into their relationship.
Ken almost dropped his jaw. He had hinted about the possibility of another girl joining them, but had not pushed much because he really loved her and didn't want her to think he wanted another girl only for his pleasure. Now she was suggesting that another girl, a properly submissive one, might be a pleasure for both of them. Not that she wished to become a dominant, she assured him quickly. She was perfectly content to remain his slavegirl. But a second girl could easily also be his slave, too. Number two slave. She pointed out that if they were both bound and helpless, they would have to accept whatever loving (and punishment) he wished to give them. And only as often as he wished to do it. And he could quite rightfully order this two slaves to put on demonstrations of lesbian lovemaking before their master.
He could hear the excitement in her voice as she told him of all this. And when she told him that she had been trained in some of those lesbian lovemaking skills so he wouldn't be disappointed, she positively sounded joyous. He agreed that perhaps it would be a nice idea.
Colleen snuggled closer against her man, her head resting on his arm. She was content and happy. Just before she felt asleep, she muttered something about beginning their search for another slavegirl tomorrow. Ken kissed her forehead gently, and told himself it doesn't get better than this.
25
Efficient Secretary
Mark Piffer sighed contentedly and took another sip of brandy. Then he finished writing the check for Mary's next month of captivity at Chateau LeGrand. It was very fortunate for him that his business granted him more than enough money to keep her a permanent guest at Chateau LeGrand for the rest of his life. Or hers for that matter.
Before him the TV displayed images of a naked woman being tortured. The sound was turned down but faintly the sound of her cries and screams came to him. On the screen, the tiny image of the girl was swinging back and forth as she hung by her ankles. The girl's arms had been bound with the wrists crossed and high up on her back, which was so that she could not protect her bare ass from the whip wielded by the lovely woman dressed in a black leather cat suit. Again and again that whip lashed out to deliver agony to the bare flesh of that unprotected bottom. Discolored flesh from knees to waist, in both the front and back, gave testimony to the territory visited by that whip.
Mark knew that this vicious whipping was not a daily occurrence but granted to please him no more than once a week. The daily punishments were not quite so severe. Once a week would be enough. He sealed the envelope with the check inside and tossed it into his briefcase to be mailed from his office the next day. It landed next to the envelope containing the divorce papers signed by Mary only a -couple days before. To say that they had been signed under duress would be an understatement, but no one would know. Marked planned to give them to his lawyer the next day. But for now, he sat back to enjoy the part where Mary's breasts were criss-cross by thin red lines and she jerked around so wonderfully at the end of her rope. He sighed in pure contentment.
Then came a noise from the direction of the bedroom. He flicked off the TV with the remote and went into the bedroom.
There was beautiful woman kneeling there at the end of the bed. The lush body of Miss Sanders, his secretary, was fully on display due to a total lack of clothing. And it was held on display by ropes firmly and lovingly bound around her limbs. Her elbows didn't quite touch behind her back, but he had done this best to make them and the effect, especially on those large breasts, was most pleasing. He was sure that eventually those elbows could be made to come together behind her. And if not, it was at least fun trying to force them.
Miss Sanders turned as he came in, displaying a beautiful face enhanced, not marred, by the ring trainer gag strapped in place. The trainer gag was an ingenious invention, a metal ring covered with leather, wedged between her teeth, and held in place by a strap around her head. The ring was large enough to prevent her mouth from closing. The tongue and all that soft, warm flesh behind those ripe, red lips could be seen. She whined in obvious need. But it was not discomfort from the ropes, gag, nor the clamps squashing her nipples, that was her need. When he stood near her, she muzzled the front of his bathrobe.
"Want it again?" he asked. She nodded vigorously. "Is there no rest for the weary?" he asked as he removed the bathrobe.
Kneeling on the carpet, Miss Sanders' wide open mouth was at just the right height. Mark grasp her head with both hands and guided his weapon through the trainer gag and into that warm mouth. She sighed with satisfaction, then began licking it with the wonderfully talented tongue.
In the office Miss Sanders was considered something of an air head. But Mark knew she was simply a shy girl who didn't speak much. Once he had gotten her alone and introduced her to the ropes, she had almost proven too much for him to handle. Almost every moment that they were alone, she had to have his penis in her mouth. It mattered not whether it was rigid or limp, she wanted it. He had fallen into the habit of keeping her tied up all night so she wouldn't awaken him several time each night with her oral sex.
And she loved being tied, even if it meant that she couldn't always fill her mouth with what she wanted. She even exceeded his wishes with her constant demands that he tie her tighter than necessary for security. Except for those hour when she was his efficient and beautiful secretary, she was almost constantly in restraints.
As he used her wonderful mouth as other men used a girl's pussy, he knew that one day he would marry her. But no rush. She didn't seem to expect it, only the ropes and chance to capture his tool between her soft lips. But with Mary no longer his wife, he was free to legally bind this incredible sex machine to him with more than just ropes.
Later, as they lay together on the bed, Miss Sanders brought up the subject of his punishing her for not being quite perfect with the last oral sex. Perhaps she could have sucked a bit better, or pumped her mouth over his tool a little faster. She suggested that perhaps he should whip her bottom to urge her to do a better job next time.
With a sigh of contentment, Mark agreed that perhaps it would be best to punish her bottom for the sins of her mouth. She sighed contentedly and cuddled her body against his. As well as she could with her arms still bound behind her.
He was a very happy man.
26
A Meeting of Minds
Tanya Pager was a little surprised when a hearse pulled into her driveway, but not much. Her daughter had the knack of doing things different, even when she wasn't in control of the situation.
The coffin was carried into the front room and set against the wall before being opened. Susie's hair was stringy and she looked a little tired, but was otherwise her usual eager self. As one man unbuckled the straps holding her into the coffin, the other released the gag from her mouth. "Hi, Mom!" were her first words croaked out. "It was fun," followed immediately.
They lifted the teenager out of the coffin and sat her on the couch next to her mother, then they closed their coffin and departed. Tanya looked over the tight ropes holding her daughter's arms behind her, especially noting the way the ropes cut into the flesh just above the elbows. She made no move to untie those ropes, nor the ropes binding her legs together.
"It looks as if you've had a rough trip back here," commented Tanya.
"You don't know the half of it," exclaimed Susie. Then she proceeded to tell her mother about the stimulating cream that had been applied to her sex, and what an incredibly frustrating experience the trip had been. "I wanted so badly to touch myself that I could die! I've never felt anything like it."
"I'm glad you enjoyed the trip." Tanya paused and looked serious. "I have to ask you a serious question," she said. She took a breath. "Do you still love bondage? Do you still want to be taken down to the dungeon and treated the way I was? And do you still want to be a bondage model?"
Susie's reply was spoken quietly and sincerely. "More than ever. It is the most intense feelings that I've ever felt. It's incredible. I love it."
"At least we share that much."
"I want to be tied up any time you feel like doing it. And I want to be punished any time you feel I need it." She smiled sweetly at her mother. "And I hope you feel I need both often."
Tanya put her arms around Susie. "Oh, darling, I love you. And I'm sorry that I waited so long to let you share these feelings." She took her daughter's head in her hands so their eyes were very close. "I promise you that you'll visit the dungeon often - starting this afternoon. There is a small cage made of wire mesh. If you were tied into a ball, you could be fitted into the cage and locked inside. There is a hoist above it and it can be lifted up. I'll never forget the first time your father tied me and locked me naked into that cage. He left me hanging for the whole night! Boy, was I stiff and sore the next morning. But it was worth it. I was also so very horny that I would have ripped his pants off if he hadn't kept my hands tied. He did screw me until my eyes popped out, and that was good."
They smiled at each other. Susie could just see her mother in that little cage, and could certainly imagine what spending a long night in it would be like.
"There's one problem, you know," said Tanya.
Susie frowned. "You don't mean Philip?"
"No," Tanya laughed. "I've decided to dump Philip. He's a pain and just can't learn to tie me as tightly as I like. No, what I'm talking about is that I like to be tied up, too. Do you think that we could take turns tying each other?"
"Oh, Mother! Of course we can! I've learned every so much at Chateau LeGrand. I might need a little help at first but I'm sure that I'll soon be tying you tighter than even you want. It will be so much fun!"
"I'm sure it will be, darling. We will have so much fun!"
They hugged again and felt love for each other like they never had. Finally Tanya sniffed back a tear of joy. "I'll start out by giving you a bath. And then feeding you some lunch. All without untying you, of course."
"Of course."
"And tonight you'll spend the night hanging in that wire cage. It won't be comfortable but you'll find it very exciting." "I know I will, Mother."
"And tomorrow... Ah, tomorrow... Tomorrow I would like to be tied up all day! You can practice tying me with the ropes until you get it down perfect. And tomorrow night I want to spend the night in a nice, tight hogtie with my neck chained to the foot of your bed." She .paused to kiss her daughter on the forehead. "You see, we'll take turns. One day I'll be your slavegirl, and the next you'll be mine. Oh, Susie, we have so much to share!"
Tanya helped Susie to her feet then lent a steadying hand as the girl hopped towards the bathroom. "Now tell me all about Chateau LeGrand. I saw the video tapes but I'm sure there was much more to it than that. I'll want to know about it because I may want to spend a few weeks there."
"Oh, Mom! You'd love it there. They tie you ever so tightly! And there is this real hunk named Freddy, but don't call him that 'cause he don't like it. I'll bet if you ask him real nice, he'll screw you. He refused to do it to me, the bastard, but you're different. And there is Monique. She's special. Really mean sometimes but boy does she know how to punish a girl..."
They had a lot to talk about, that mother and daughter. And all their discussions were held with one of them in very tight ropes. Susie spent the night in the small cage and loved every minute, especially because it had been her mother's cage. And she quickly learned how to tie another girl. The next night Tanya did spend the entire night hogtied at the foot of Susie's bed. And she couldn't get free no matter how much she struggled.
