by Van ©2016
		Chapter 5

Tightly bound in crimson rope from her big toes to her shoulders, gagged with a breathable ball-gag, and otherwise naked, June wiggled and kicked, squirmed and struggled... then did it some more... all with the same non-result.  She knew that even if her palms and thumbs weren't lashed down, the key knot—the final knot tied by Grace, the knot that had to be untied first if she was going to escape—would be totally out of her reach.  But she had to try.  Grace had ordered her to try.  June continued rolling and writhing on the jade-green, wall-to-wall floor mat, alone in the Beach Bungalow's expansive and minimally decorated (meaning not decorated) Yoga Studio, and fought to emerge from her red rope cocoon as a naked and sweaty but triumphant butterfly.

Finally, the 800-pound gorilla in the corner of the room decided he'd had enough, knuckle-walked to June's side, and gently slapped her ball-gagged face.  "Snap out of it!" he ordered in his cultured, well-educated Oxford accent.  "Protege only—or protege and girlfriend?  Professional relationship only—or will you take a chance on love?"

"Mrrrpfh?" June responded.  [Gaglish to English translation: "Love?"]

The gorilla rolled his eyes.  "What do you think Ms. Scanlon was hinting about?"  He regarded June with obvious disappointment.  "You're not usually this dense."

"Mfff!" June huffed.

"Make up your mind, young lady," the gorilla continued.  "Opportunities like this don't grow on banana trees."  And with that, he snapped the meaty fingers of his right hand and disappeared in a puff of red smoke.

Good point, June conceded, then relaxed in her bonds.  But you didn't have to slap me.  She heaved a deep sigh, sending air whistling through her ventilated ball-gag.  I'm dreaming again, aren't I?

And with that, June woke up.

The sun was setting, flooding the studio with direct, red and orange light.  June liked the way the slowly fading luminescence played across the blond paneling... and the golden glow that highlighted the gray and purple clouds as the shimmering solar disk descended to the Pacific horizon.  It was very pretty.  Also...

Why not? she decided.  Why not love?  Who am I to argue with an 800-pound gorilla?

The not-so-secret door of the Yoga Studio rumbled open just as the last light of the sun was disappearing below the horizon.  June was still naked, bound, and gagged, of course.  Aside from the time of day and lack of light, the only difference between the present and the last time Grace had appeared was the absence of the red scrunchy that had enforced June's ponytail.  The bound and gagged prisoner's brown curls were now a tousled mass, half-covering her ball-gagged face as she lifted her head from the mat-covered floor.

"Mrrrf?"

Grace smiled as she flicked a switch and turned on the studio lights, then strolled towards June's weakly writhing form.  "Yes, protege," she chuckled, "the Third Exercise is over."  Grace was wearing the same open-toe heels, pencil-skirt, and cotton blouse as before.

June heaved a relieved (and nervous) sigh, then complained—"Mrk!"—when Grace knelt at her side, rolled her over onto her boobs, tummy, thighs, knees, and bound toes, and began untying the key knot.  June was complaining about being handled like a sack of potatoes, not the fact that she was being untied.  Grace then worked her way down June's legs, releasing the doubled-loops of red rope binding them together.

June was nervous because she was waiting for an opportunity to share her new feelings—which weren't really all that new.  She'd been smitten with Grace Scanlon from the instant they met.  There was certainly nothing new about that.  What was new was June's resolve to do something about it... to roll the dice and take her chance.  It was making her nervous.  The first stages of romance always made her nervous.

Grace rolled her protege onto her shoulders, box-tied arms, and rump, and June lifted her gagged head and watched as her legs were released, loop-by-loop, hitch-by-hitch, and knot-by-knot.  What if she freaks out? June thought as the red ropes melted away.  She noted the series of flushed rope-marks that remained behind on her skin, but even as she watched, the pink, detailed fabric-patterns marking her upper thighs were fading in color to match the rest of her skin.  Her best (inexperienced) guess was that the marks would soon fade completely.  An hour, she decided.  Two hours, tops.  Certainly by morning.

Grace was releasing the extension knots as well as June's actual bondage, and each time a red coil was freed, she wadded it into a rough bundle and tossed it aside.  Eventually, the first coil she had tied, the one that had formerly bound June's ankles, feet, and big toes, slithered away and June was free from the waist down—from the crotch down, actually.  Grace shifted a few feet forward and began untying the crotch and waist rope.

A shiver quivered through June's still box-tied and ball-gagged body as the four red strands slid from between her labia and butt-crack, two at a time.  She gazed up at her mentor through the curtain of her tousled hair as Grace untied the waist-rope.  Had Grace's smile changed?  Was it more... sensual... or was it June's imagination, something she wanted to see?  The extension knot of the waist- and crotch-rope was released and it joined the tangled heap of red coils on the mat.  June took the occasion to heave herself up and sit on her butt.  The box-tie meant she had to complete the maneuver using mostly her ab muscles, but she managed.  Who knew this was how all those sit-ups would pay off? she mused.

"Mrrrf."

Grace's smile widened.  "Hold your horses, darling," she purred.

"Mrrrf!"  June shook the hair from her face, lifted her chin, and thrust her ball-gagged mouth forward.

"Oh, very well," Grace chuckled, pulled the key from her pocket, leaned close and reached behind June's head with both hands, and unlocked the padlock securing the ball-gag.  She then released the buckle, re-secured it on its first hole, and locked the padlock back through the tongue.  Finally, she gently plucked the ventilated ball from June's mouth and let it drop.  Her protege was now wearing a ball-gag necklace.  "Now, what's so important that I had to—mrrrpfh!"

June had lunged forward and was planting a very enthusiastic kiss on her mentor's startled lips!

Grace flinched in surprise and pushed her naked, box-tied protege away... eventually... then wiped her lips with the back of her left hand.  "Well, that was unexpec—mrrrpfh!"

June had done it again!  And this time she tried (and succeeded) in using tongue!

Grace returned the wet, deep kiss for several seconds, then pushed June away and scrambled to her feet.  "None of that!" she scolded, shaking her right index finger while again using the back of her left hand to wipe her lips.  Her stern words were at odds with the smile curling her lips and the twinkle in her green eyes.  Also, a blush colored her now rosy cheeks.

June shrugged her rope-yoked shoulders and flipped the hair from her face, again.  "You're beautiful," she stated, "and I love you."

Grace's smile became decidedly skeptical.  "You're beautiful and I love you?" she chuckled.  "I expect better from a budding writer."

"Hmm... point taken."  June affected a thoughtful expression.  "Let me see...  You're the very vision of Aphrodite-among-mortals, and my adoring heart goes pitter-patter with unquenchable passion.  Better?"

Still smiling, Grace slowly shook her head.  "Work on it."

June smiled up at Grace.  Her heart was going pitter-patter.  Too much?  Too little?  Too strange?  Too dorky?

Finally, Grace heaved a sigh, leaned down and took June by the arms, then helped her to her feet.  "C'mon," she said as she turned and headed for the studio door.  "It's time for dinner."

June's stomach rumbled.  "I can eat," she acknowledged.  Apparently, being naked, bound, and gagged all afternoon had given her an appetite.  "Wait!" she objected, then belatedly padded after her mentor.  "I'm naked and tied up!"

Grace paused in the doorway, turned, and favored her protege with a wicked smile.  "Such powers of observation.  Yes, you're naked and tied up.  And, apparently, in love."  With that, she turned and strolled towards the kitchen.

June blushed.  It was clear who was in charge.  "The least she could have done is say she loved me back," June muttered under her breath.

June entered the kitchen several paces behind her mentor.  She stood in the doorway and watched as Grace gathered the elements of two place settings that had been on the small dining table next to the expansive kitchen window and returned them to the kitchen island.  Saying nothing and ignoring her naked and box-tied protege, she arranged one place setting before one of the bar stools on the counter side of the island and returned the remaining tableware, plate, and wine glass to the appropriate drawer or cabinet.

There was a yummy aroma in the air, something June couldn't quite place.  Whatever it was, it was spicy and savory... possibly Italian... and set her stomach to grumbling again.

Grace removed a pair of baked potatoes from a warming oven, slit them with a small knife, and carefully squeezed a generous opening in each.  She then spooned large helpings of some sort of filling into the steaming cavities and transferred them to a single plate.

"Baked potatoes with turkey sausage, arugala, mascarpone cheese, tomato-basil sauce, diced onion, garlic, olive oil, etc., etc." Grace announced as she poured red wine from an already opened bottle into a single stemmed glass, then sat on the stool next to June, leaned close, combed her protege's hair back with her fingers into a ponytail, and restored the red scrunchy to keep it in place.

Her hair safely out of her face, June accepted a sip of wine... then a fork-load of stuffed potato.  "Yum," she mumbled as she chewed and swallowed.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Grace chuckled, then forked some potato into her own mouth.

The meal continued in companionable silence... or silence, anyway.  Both diners—the smartly dressed, beautiful mentor and her naked, box-tied, and equally beautiful protege—were as nervous as a pair of cats at a dog show.

Finally... after several sips of excellent wine and bites of delicious stuffed potato, June decided that enough was enough.  "Well?" she demanded.

Grace smiled.  "Well, what?"

June rolled her eyes (and blushed).  "I love you, remember?"

Grace smiled and took a sip of wine.  "I remember, June.  Also, you think I'm beautiful."

"You are beautiful," June stated, "obviously, and I love you."

Grace forked more potato into June's mouth.  "You're beautiful as well, protege.  Surely you know that."

June chewed and swallowed.  "Of course I know that," she purred.  "I'm especially beautiful when I'm naked and tied up... and don't call me Shirley."

Grace rolled her eyes and blushed (just a little).  "Why Miss Kempe," she chuckled, "I do believe you're trying to seduce me."

June accepted another sip of wine.  She was blushing, as well.  "Is it working?" she asked quietly.

Grace leaned close and kissed June's lips... and the kiss was returned.  Then, they resumed their meal.  That is, Grace continued feeding her protege and herself and June ate.

"As you've pointed out," Grace said between bites, "I'm into bondage games, but what you have to understand is that I'm also into control."

June smiled and shrugged her rope-yoked shoulders and gave her box-tie bonds a perfunctory struggle.  "I sort of got that impression," she purred.

"Cheeky monkey," Grace chuckled, then poured more wine into the glass and took a sip.  "Levity aside... I would never harm you, darling, physically or emotionally... but I insist on complete control.  Think of it as a personal idiosyncrasy."

A thrill rippled up June's spine.  'Darling!'  She nodded gravely.  "And by 'control,' you mean...  what?"

Grace's smile turned somewhat coy (or possibly sinister).  "You will follow every order I give you and carry out every instruction, to the best of your ability, and without complaint."

For some reason, that thrill was back.  Surrender my free will to another person?  Absurd!  Ridiculous!  On the other hand... it was Grace who was doing the asking.  June chewed and swallowed the last of her potato.  "I reserve the right to make frightfully clever remarks and devastatingly snarky comments."

Grace chewed and swallowed the last of her potato.  "And I reserve the right to punish you for making frightfully clever remarks and devastatingly snarky comments... without causing actual harm, of course."

June swallowed nervously.  "Of course," she agreed.

"Don't have kittens," Grace chuckled.  "Any marks inflicted will be painful, but won't break the skin and will fade quickly.  And speaking of pain," Grace continued.  "How do your shoulders feel?"

June rolled the red rope yoked shoulders in question.  "My shoulders?  Fine, just fine."

Grace's smile shifted from possibly sinister to possibly evil.  "Good.  You can clean all this up in the morning."

It finally dawned on June what was really at issue.  "Oh, you mean my shoulders."  She rolled her shoulders again, and this time winced in pain.  "They're in agony.  You'd better untie me immediately."

Grace finished the last of the wine, then pointed towards the open doorway.  "Get your lying ass to my bedroom," she ordered, "right now."  Her smile had shifted from possibly evil, back through possibly sinister, then settled on unmistakably amused, which had the effect of more or less cancelling out her stern tone.

June heaved a somewhat theatrical sigh, then spun to the side, hopped off the stool, and padded away.  "Yes, Mistress," she sighed.

Grace was focusing on her bound protege's dimpled buttocks, strong, smooth legs, and perfect feet.  "We'll forgo the traditional 'mistress' and 'slave' labels.  Mentor and protege will do just fine."

"Whatever you say," June called back over her right shoulder, paused in the doorway, and favored Grace with a saucy smirk.  "Your every word is law, She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed-Mistress-Mentor."

Grace followed her naked, bound protege from the kitchen at a stately pace, smiling and shaking her head.  "Oh, you're going to pay for that one," she purred.

June's heart was, indeed, going pitter-patter.  Also, that pesky thrill had found its way from her spine, through her tummy, and was taking up residence further south, between her striding legs.  She loves me!  Of course, Grace hadn't actually spoken the words... but she will, eventually.  June was certain of it!  And in the meanwhile... we're on our way to her bedroom!

And then, she was there!  June padded to the middle of the large room.  She'd seen her mentor's bedchamber before, of course, but only to stick her head inside while looking for Grace.  She'd never explored the place.  It wasn't that she wasn't curious, of course, but if Grace caught her snooping, it would be... awkward.  Anyway, the layout was similar to June's own guest room and the bed was the same size, but the total square footage of the room was greater.  June was sure of it.

"Into the bathroom, protege," Grace ordered.

June turned back to face the bedroom door... and the thrill doubled in intensity.  She's so beautiful, June sighed, and in charge... of me!  June smiled and executed a box-tied, naked curtsy.  "Yes, Your Grace," she said gravely, then scampered for the bathroom, as ordered.  Another 'cheeky monkey' remark?  Yes, but June couldn't help herself.

Grace shook her smiling head and followed her protege.  "You are determined to provoke me, you silly girl."  They entered the bathroom and Grace pointed to the commode.

June took the hint, padded to the commode, sat, and emptied her bladder.  She didn't blush, but it was a little embarrassing.  It was intimate.

Afterwards, Grace patted her protege's crotch region with a fold of bathroom tissue—which was even more intimate—then used her own toothbrush and wintergreen flavored toothpaste to brush first June's teeth... and then her own.

Intimate, June mused as Grace used a soapy sponge pad to gently scrub her face... meaning June's face... then used a damp washcloth to rinse her skin... then applied a light coat of moisturizing creme with a very pleasant aroma.  Grace then repeated the process on her own face.

"I could use a shower," June said quietly, and it was true.  She'd needed a shower after they completed their run.  But instead, June had spent most of the hours since rolling and squirming in tight bondage on the floor of the Yoga Studio.

"In the morning, darling," Grace purred, then led June from the bathroom, into the main bedroom, and towards the bed.  June watched as she pulled back the covers.  "Sit," she ordered, patting the mattress.

June did so, and Grace sat next to her and reached behind her protege's head, June heard the click and rattle of the ball-gag's padlock being unlocked and the buckle released, then Grace gently thrust the ball into her compliant mouth and tightened the strap at the nape of her neck.  "Mrrrf!" the now gagged prisoner complained.

"Hush," Grace purred, then stood and deposited the padlock and key in the top drawer of her nightstand.  She then strolled into the walk-in closet and quickly returned with a long, thin, bright red hair-ribbon fluttering from the fingers of her right hand.

June watched (and cooperated) as Grace lifted her feet onto the bed and used the ribbon to bind her ankles, feet, and big toes.  It was the same technique Grace had employed to bind her feet in the Yoga Studio, only this time the task was accomplished with the long, narrow, crimson band of silk.  The final knot was a doubled-knotted bow.

Grace stood and smiled down at her naked, box-tied, ball-gagged, and ribbon-bound protege.  "Stay," she ordered, then strolled back into the closet.

'Stay,' June fumed.  Hilarious.  She wasn't really mad, but being under Grace's "control" like this was going to take a little getting used to.  She twisted her ribbon-bound feet, and decided that wasn't a good idea.  Grace had tied the ribbon rather loosely, but the narrow, flat silk wasn't as kind as the thicker, braided nylon rope employed back in the Studio, the same rope that was still binding her upper body.  She quickly discovered that if she twisted her bound toes, feet, and ankles more than a little, her new bonds tightened and bit like wire.  She found she could separate her knees a few inches, but that was it.  Rolling off the bed and hopping around the room might be possible, but that would be disobedient and would no doubt earn her more demerits.  In any case, she didn't want to leave the bed.

Something like a minute passed... then June's eyes popped wide above her ball-gagged mouth.

Grace had returned, and she was sauna-ready.  That is, her 40-something, pale, well-toned, curvaceous, and beautiful body was gloriously nude.

Needless to say, that pesky thrill was back like crazy, rippling up and down June's spine, bouncing around in her tummy, and between her legs.  Grace sat on the bed, opened one of the lower nightstand drawers, and produced something, but June couldn't see what it was.  Grace's body was in the way (and was very distracting).

Grace then slid between the sheets and squirmed until her body was close—as in touching—the prisoner-of-the-bed.  Grace leaned away and tapped a button on a small remote resting on the nightstand... and the lights began to fade.

June had issues.  Specifically...  (1) Grace was right there, meaning their naked bodies were in significant contact.  This did nothing to calm June's pounding heart, alleviate her tingling problem, or help her control her somewhat rapid breathing.  (2) The room was now dark except for a very dim, blue-green, band of LED nightlights built into the baseboards, where the walls met the carpeting.  (3) the ceiling was now ablaze in a very credible facsimile of the night sky, constellations, Milky Way, and all.  It might be countless LED lights embedded in the ceiling, varying in size from pinprick to teeny-tiny to tiny; or perhaps it was thousands of phosphorescent dots painted on the ceiling and being bathed in UV light from indirect sources.  However it was done, the effect was very pretty.

"You're shivering," Grace whispered.

"Mrrrf," June agreed.

Grace reached behind her back and produced whatever she'd pulled from the nightstand drawer, a buzzing noise sounded, and—"Mrrrk?"—even in the dim light June could now see that the mysterious "something" was a torpedo-style vibrator!  The shaft and rounded tip were latex-clad, glistening in a vibrant (and vibrating) blue-green color, but that may or may not have been their true color.  Truth be told, color was way down on June's ever-growing list of concerns.  The torpedo was vibrating—"Mrrrm!"—and Grace was using its business end to tease her right nipple... meaning June's right nipple... and then her left nipple!

June tried to squirm away.  It seemed like the thing to do, meaning to try.  However, Grace had slid her left foot between June's knees. This had the effect of tightening her toe-foot-ankle ribbon-bonds—just a tad, but not enough to be painful—as well as effectively preventing her from squeezing her thighs together to protect her pussy.  Also, Grace was embracing her box-tied upper body with her right arm and snuggling close.  Oh-by-the way, Grace was using the buzzing torpedo in her left hand to conduct a thorough exploration of her breasts... and pointing nipples.  Bound as she was, and with Grace as strong as she was... resistance was futile.

The titillating massage continued—"Mrrrrr"—the rounded head of the vibrator began sliding down June's torso... tracing a sinusoidal path to her bellybutton... then continuing towards her pubic bush.  "Mrrr!" June complained (moaned).

"Quiet, darling," Grace purred, then used the vibrator to tease June's left thigh... right thigh... then the area directly above her glistening pussy.  "I can tell you're going to take a lot of training."  She began sliding the vibrator against June's labia.  "Either that, or I'll have to start employing the more effective gags in my collection."

"Mrrrrrrr."  June could tell that she was going to cum... soon... very soon... but then Grace resumed teasing the area around her pussy, but not her pussy proper.  "Mrrrrk!"

"I said quiet," Grace chuckled.  "We're going to take our time."

June struggled in her mentor's (lover's) grip.  "Mrrrf!"  And this time her complaint was unmistakably petulant.

"Oh, you don't want to take things slow?" Grace purred.  "You want me to make you cum like a rutting bunny right now?"  She eased the vibrator from between June's quivering thighs and let it slide across her flushed labia, once, then returned the buzzing shaft to her lower tummy.

"Mrrr!"  June shivered in arousal, and frustration.

"Too bad, darling," Grace chuckled.  "I like being in control, remember?  And that includes your greedy pussy and its appetite for orgasms."

Bound, gagged, and helpless in the embrace of her mentor, June shivered and squirmed.  It was torture... a torture she very much hoped would eventually lead to a crashing orgasm... possibly a crashing multiple orgasm... but not now... not at this particular moment.  Grace was in control.

"Mrrrrr."

"I told you to hush," Grace purred, then kissed her quivering protege's left ear.   She returned the vibrator to June's pussy... varied the pressure... then eased it away to tease her thighs, again!

"Mrrrk!"  She's good at this, June noted with what was left of her consciousness.  Most of June's mind was occupied by the demands of her hind-brain to CUM!  She's good with the ropes, and she's good at playing my pussy like a frakkin' Stradivarius.  She's... experienced.  What have I gotten myself into?

By the time morning arrived, June had decided she'd gotten herself into something that was quite wonderful!

She awoke alone in Grace's bed.  Her red rope box-tie, ventilated ball-gag, and red ribbon ankle-feet-toes-tie were gone, the various restrictive elements nowhere to be seen among the tangle of high-thread-count sheets.  Obviously, Grace had freed her from her bonds during the night, after she'd passed out from multi-orgasmic overload.  Three?  June wasn't at all sure how many distinct orgasms Grace had conjured from her bound and gagged body with her Magic Torpedo.  At least three, she decided.

June realized the shower was running.  The water music may have been what had woken her up.  June needed a shower.  She'd needed one before being introduced to Grace's Magic Torpedo, and she really needed one now.  Also, she needed to tinkle.  June sat up, heaved a deep yawn, stretched, extricated herself from the sheets, and padded into the bathroom.

June sat on the commode and emptied her bladder, then went to the sink and splashed water on her face.  Meanwhile, she noted that Grace was in the shower, soaping, scrubbing, and rinsing her incredible body, something June found to be not at all distracting.  Actually, that thrill was back, once again rippling through her pussy.  But, no, June decided, Grace's nude, wet, soapy body is not at all distracting.

The shower in question was a large, deep alcove completely clad in glazed tiles—ceiling, floor, and all three walls.  A huge showerhead, the biggest showerhead June had ever seen, was raining a pulsing torrent down onto Grace's body.  Plenty of room for two, June decided, padded into the alcove, and joined her mentor under the blessedly hot water.

Grace smiled, then pulled June into a welcoming, good morning hug.  June returned the hug, and they kissed.  By this time, of course, June was just as wet as her mentor.  The kiss was also wet.

"Enough," Grace chuckled, then released the embrace.

"Ya sure?" June purred, and kissed Grace, again.

Grace returned the kiss, then pushed her protege away.  "Get ready for the day, including that rat's nest you call your hair, then meet me in the bedroom."

"Yes, Mistress," June chuckled.

"Mentor, protege," Grace intoned as she stepped from under the stream and began drying herself with a huge towel.  "Ten demerits."

June watched as Grace dried her body, then began toweling her hair.  "I've been meaning to ask," June purred.  "How do I redeem all those demerits?  With orgasms?  And what's the exchange rate?  Ten to one?  And by that I mean ten orgasms for each demerit?"

Grace continued drying her hair.  "I suppose I could require you to give me ten orgasms per demerit." she chuckled.

June found the liquid soap dispenser attached to the wall and pumped a generous dollop into her hands.  "I was thinking you would be the one giving me orgasms," she replied, "ten to one.  How else will I learn?"

"Well, you are something of a slow student," Grace chuckled, then began using a comb and blow-dryer to continue drying her hair.  She had to shout to be heard over the whirring noise.  "Actually, the exchange rate is ten blows with the lash, crop, or paddle for every demerit!"

June's cheeks dimpled in a coy smile.  Grace was kidding, of course.  "What about your promise that you'd never hurt me?"

"My promise was not to harm you, protege!" Grace countered.  "Pay attention!  Words matter!  As a writer, you should already know that!  As I implied earlier, I abhor the sight of blood; but I quite enjoy the sight of pink, freshly flogged, whipped, or spanked skin!"

June tried to think of a snappy comeback, but failed.  She wouldn't really flog me, would she?  "Whatever."

By this time, Grace had finished with the dryer and was brushing her honey-blond tresses.  Shouting was no longer necessary.  "Hurry up in there," she admonished, then turned and padded from the bathroom.

Wow, June thought as she completed rinsing her body and hair.  I never thought about that stuff.  She imagined herself standing on her tiptoes, spreadeagled in chains, and being whipped by Grace.  That would be... terrible... I suppose.  Of course, it would be Grace doing the whipping, and Grace abhorred blood, an issue with which June was in complete agreement.  So... it would be terrible... and new.

It took June a few minutes to dry her body and hair, especially her hair.  She padded into the bedroom just in time to see Grace striding from the walk-in closet, fully dressed and ready for the day.

June smiled.  Her mentor was wearing a pair of exquisitely tasteful and no doubt hideously expensive high-heel pumps and a sleeveless summer dress with a scoop neckline.  The heels were blue and the dress blue and black in a pattern that vaguely evoked the stripes of a zebra or tiger.  The ensemble was beautiful, and so was Grace.

Grace was stunning.  June very nearly earned herself ten more demerits (100 lashes?) by prefacing her next words with the forbidden alleged word.  Uh...  "I'll get dressed and meet you in the kitchen."  She turned to make her exit.

"Stop!" Grace commanded, and June froze.  Grace walked a slow circle around her naked protege.  "You have a very nice body, June," she purred, "and I've decided I enjoy looking at it.  From now on, you will wear clothing only when I order you to do so.  I've already ordered you a new pair of toe running shoes, and when they arrive, they will be your complete running costume."

"T-toe running shoes?" June stammered.

"Like mine," Grace confirmed.  "Also called barefoot-runners or Hobbit-runners.  They have minimal arch support but good sole protection.  They do take some getting used to, but our species evolved running barefoot.  Toe-runners are the healthiest way to treat your feet."

"Naked?"

Grace's smile widened.  "You're very pretty when you blush.  Did you know that?"

June was blushing.  She was also trying not to pout, and didn't think she was succeeding.  She continued blushing and staring straight ahead.  Her hands squeezed into tight fists at her sides as Grace walked another circle around her nude body.

"Also," Grace pronounced, "you're to sunbathe every day, weather permitting.  I require you to develop a uniform tan as quickly as safety permits, while using moisturizing sunscreen, of course.  Do you understand?"

"Yes... Mentor."  June had almost said "Mistress," but had caught herself in time.  She had no idea why she was being this... subservient... but somehow, it felt right.

June watched as Grace retrieved the red rope that had been her box-tie bonds from the floor beside the bed, as well as the ball-gag.  The rope was now neatly coiled.  June assumed her mentor had accomplished that task while she was still asleep.

"To the kitchen," Grace ordered.

June exited the bedroom, naked and still blushing (just a little).  Grace was right behind, very much not naked and with the coil of red rope and the ball-gag in her left hand.

"You can start cleaning up after last night's supper while I tidy up the Yoga Studio," Grace said, then peeled off in the direction of the studio in question, the scene of yesterday afternoon's Exercise.

June heaved a sigh as she continued to the kitchen.  "So," she muttered to herself, "now I'm Grace's protege and her naked scullery maid."  She entered the kitchen and surveyed the dirty plate, used knife, fork, and spoon, dirty wine glass, and the saute pan, bowls, utensils, and baking dish that had been required to prepare and serve last night's excellent stuffed baked potatoes.  Well, she thought, I suppose somebody's got to do it.

June heaved another sigh, then set to work.  The sooner the kitchen was clean, the sooner she could dirty it again cooking breakfast.  It was a safe bet that Grace was going to start making her cook as well as clean.

Her Grace's Protege and Naked Servant pondered the topic of subservience as she loaded the dishwasher, located the cache of soap/softener gel-pacs, loaded one into the appropriate slot, closed and latched the door, and tapped the "ON" button.

Why the hell am I being... subserviant? June pondered.  It wasn't her usual style, not at all her style.  June was easygoing, all her friends said so, but she was nobody's doormat.  Nor was she needy and demanding.  But the game she was playing with Grace was something new... virgin territory... so to speak.

As the dishwasher hummed, June cleaned the saute pan by hand, then returned it to the cooktop.  I suppose I can think of it as another 'Exercise,' she decided as she wiped down the island, a long term exercise.  I can always wimp out if it gets to be too much... when I'm not bound and gagged, of course... and no way Grace will keep me bound and gagged all the time.

The now familiar thrill rippled between June's legs, again.  It's worth a try.  After what she did to me last night, it's certainly worth a try.