by Van © 2020
Gilroy had her orders.
The moisturizing of the Viking Queen was a truly epic undertaking,
but Skye was thorough and meticulous, her latex-gloved,
well-lubricated hands slowly gliding over every available square
inch of the blond, blue-eyed, 40-something, Nordic beauty
strapped to the examination/surgical table of Mistress's
subterranean Bondage Clinic venue.
The Viking Queen's boobs, inner thighs, and bare feet received
extra special attention, but her ball- and tape-gagged
face enjoyed only a cursory massage, mostly her forehead and
temples. Skye didn't want to get lotion/moisturizer into
those gorgeous, glowering blue eyes. There was
nothing on the pump-bottle's label to suggest that the clear,
oily product in question was "No More Tears" (like baby
shampoo). Skye took no chances.
Also, one-by-one, she unbuckled each of the cuff and strap
restraints that weren't padlocked, moisturized the area that had
been under the leather, then buckled them tight, once
again. That was why Mistress hadn't padlocked them in the
first place, right? So Skye could be a diligent
masseuse? Mistress thought of everything. However,
Skye didn't touch the semi-posture-collar. She didn't want
the Viking Queen thrashing her head around and straining her
Skye was sure Her Nordic Majesty's angry stare and agitated
squirming signaled only token resentment and not
genuine revulsion at what was happening to her smooth, firm, tan
skin. Pretend Revulsion was Skye's go-to move when
Mistress messed with her body, so the Viking Queen was
probably doing the same thing. It only made sense.
Finally... Skye moved on to the Main Event of Round One.
She replenished the lotion on her hands, smiled sweetly at her
patient (victim), then began stroking The Royal Labia. She
did what Mistress did to her when Mistress diddled her hoo-haw,
but didn't try anything fancy... for now. And it wasn't
that Skye was a total erotic novice or anything. She knew
what felt good when she did it to herself, but playing with
somebody else's lady-bits was a different kettle of fish,
It was like tickling. You can't tickle yourself. You
can diddle yourself, but when someone else is doing
the diddling and everything happening is beyond your control...
it's different. It was best to imitate Mistress' skilled
hands. Skye would strive to develop a personal orgasm
extraction style of her own... later.
Skye was gratified to see her subject reacting to her
efforts. The Viking Queen's gorgeous blue eyes
were still hostile (maybe), but she was tugging on her wrist
cuffs with her hands clenched in tight fists, wiggling her toes,
straining her glistening, spectacular body against the
straps, and squirming in general. Her efforts were
strenuous enough to make her boobs quiver like a pair of pudding
cakes on an unsteady table... sort of. And her pointing
nipples were pointing all over the place. Also, the Royal
Labia were flushed and moist in... Regal Outrage? Anyway,
Skye was obviously on the right track.
Finally... after a few minutes of diligent diddling, all of
which was met with struggling and glowering... the Viking Queen
whined through her ball-and-tape-gag, squeezed her gorgeous
blue eyes tightly closed, and came like the
proverbial bunny. And if she was faking it, she was a
world class actress. Either that or Skye was grading on a
And then Round One was over. The Viking Queen panted
through flaring nostrils, her breasts heaved, and she continued
struggling against the brown leather straps pinning her to the
table. Also, she shifted from glowering to staring daggers
at her smiling young therapist. It was a subtle
difference, but Skye picked it out. Her Majesty may have
also started sweating, but the glistening moisturizer covering
her tan body made it difficult for Skye to be sure.
Skye let her magnificent captive rest for a few minutes.
Okay, two minutes. Then went back to work.
Mistress would expect nothing less.
Round Two was just as much a rousing success as Round One.
Round Three was also an Erotic Triumph.
By this time, Her Majesty was definitely sweating, and
her panting and squirming were less enthusiastic that at the
beginning. The poor thing was tiring.
Skye's wrist was tiring as well. She was nowhere near
ready to call it quits, but she didn't want to develop Carpal
Tunnel Syndrome (also known as "Diddler's Wrist"). Her
options were to give the Viking Queen a real rest,
which would also mean giving her wrist a real rest. Or...
Skye's smile widened (meaning turned noticeably diabolical), and
she spun on her Sketcher-clad heels and strolled to the cabinet
with the moisturizer and other stuff. The top drawer held
the solution to her problem. She slid the drawer open and
pulled one of the wand-style vibrators from its recharging
stand, pressed its "L" button and turned it on (so to speak),
and the wand's knob-like, silicon-rubber-clad head began
humming. Skye shifted her gaze to the two identical
vibrators still in their charger-stands in the drawer, and her
smile faded. She turned her head and glanced at the Viking
Queen—who was still glistening and/or sweating, tugging on her
bonds, and glaring—then back at the drawer and its silver, fully
Even if Mistress is gone a full two hours, how much
diddling does she expect me to accomplish? Skye wondered.
These things can't drain all their power that quickly.
She turned off the vibrator, closed the drawer on the other two,
reasserted her therapeutic smile, then strolled back to the
table and its gorgeous prisoner. Oh well.
As it turned out, the silver wand was a very good orgasm
extraction tool. It had three speeds, L, M, and H (low,
medium, and high), which allowed Skye to experiment with varying
the intensity. As Mistress had advised (ordered), she
continued keeping things simple by slowly escalating the buzzing
in a linear fashion until she achieved the desired result...
which was a squirming, mewling, sweating, and cumming Viking
Anyway... all "good" things come to an end. Skye heard the
door unlock—Click!—and it opened. Mistress had
returned. She was still in her "Doctor" costume of
stylish, summer-weight, heather-gray dress and white lab
coat. She strolled to the table and smiled down at the
shining, panting, glowering. and obviously well-diddled Viking
Queen for something like half a minute, then ordered
Candy-Striper Gilroy to wipe her latex-gloved and still
semi-lubricated hands clean, wipe the head of the vibrator with
alcohol, and return it to the drawer. She also ordered
Skye to keep her hands gloved (for some reason), then led her
from the chamber.
The Viking Queen remained behind.
her student to the master bedroom, pointed to the bed, and
ordered her to disrobe.
Skye had been eager to debrief her Mistress—bursting with the
news that The Diddling of the Viking Queen had been a
spectacular success—that Candy-Striper Gilroy had extracted
crashing orgasms on a regular basis with deft competence—that
the climaxes had just kept coming like a series of express
trains rolling down the tracks, one after the other!
However, Mistress had made it clear she didn't want to
talk. She ignored Skye's eagerness and had even intoned
her most dreaded of chatterbox-dampening orders: "Hush."
And now... Skye found herself staring at an orderly row of
hemp rope coils on the neatly made bed. And next to the
coils was a black leather muzzle-ball-gag. It had a 1½"
mouth-plug of silicon-rubber and a chamois-thin panel.
Skye was getting very good at making snap-evaluations of
Mistress' ever-growing inventory of top-of-the-line
restraints. Next to the gag was a roll of black, 2"-wide
vinyl tape. Panel-ball-gag and tape?
Talk about overkill.
Anyway, Skye had been ordered to "disrobe," and everything
required to bind and gag her undeserving-of-punishment body was
right there on the bed. This was her reward for a
job well done?
Obedience be damned! Actually, Skye would be
obedient, but Mistress deserved to hear her opinion. She
folded her arms across her candy-striper uniformed breasts and
frowned at the smiling Mistress in question.
"The Viking Queen has been well and truly diddled, as ordered,"
Skye announced (pouted).
"The who?" Mistress chuckled.
"The blond old lady downstairs," Skye clarified.
"That much was obvious," Mistress purred. "Get on with
Skye continued glaring as she began unbuttoning her
red-and-white pinstriped dress. "You're setting a new
standard for mean," she huffed. "I hope you
Mistress smile never wavered, but she pointed an imperious
finger at the bed. "I've changed my mind," she
announced. "Gag yourself, then disrobe."
Skye continued glaring at her Mistress for several long, defiant
seconds. Nearly three! Finally, she picked up the
gag, stared at the ball in Righteous Resentment, then gobbled it
up, tightened the strap until the panel pressed against her lips
and mouth like one of Mistress' always effective hand-gags, then
threaded the buckle and secured it at the nape of her
neck. Her ginger locks were still coiled in a bun so they
hadn't been in the way. She then resumed glowering at
Mistress and unbuttoning the dress.
"Leave the gloves," Mistress purred as she watched Skye follow
her "mean" orders. Her strong, pale hands were in her lab
coat pockets and her lips curled in one of her trademark
gorgeous but quirky smiles. It was infuriating.
Soon, Skye's dress, blouse, garter belt, and white stockings
were folded into a neat stack and resting on the bed, next to
her white Sketchers and the ominously waiting coils of hemp
Still smiling (and irritating), Mistress strolled forward, and
picked up the roll of vinyl tape. "Make a pair of fists
for Mistress," she ordered.
Skye begrudgingly obeyed, and Mistress proceeded to mummify her
left and right hands. She took her time, winding layer
after uniformly overlapping layer of stretched tape until Skye's
fists disappeared completely under the gleaming vinyl.
Pouting through her gag, Skye examined her now useless
hands. Simple manual tasks (like untying knots or turning
doorknobs) were now impossible. Wow! She had
to admit Mistress had done an outstanding job. Very
pretty, she conceded, and pointlessly mean.
Mistress never ceases to amaze.
The Amazing Mistress placed the half-expended tape roll on the
bedside table, then placed her hands on Skye's shoulders, led
her to the dressing table, and "encouraged" her to sit on the
Skye gazed at her reflection in the mirror and noticed two
(1.) She'd forgotten to remove her white
nurses' cap with its ridiculous oversized red cross on the
Mistress proceeded to remove the cap for her. That was
good a good thing, seeing as Skye's hands were encased in
gleaming black vinyl and there was no way she could remove the
damn thing herself. Mistress quickly and efficiently
removed the hairpins, then carried the cap to the bed. She
returned, released Skye's bun, then combed and brushed her
(2.) The panel of her muzzle-ball-gag was like
Elastoplast or Microfoam tape, in that it was thin enough and
tight enough to reveal the shape of her lips and the end of
the ball crammed in her mouth in three-dimensional
"Very pretty," Mistress sighed, locking eyes with her student in
the mirror... then led Skye back to the bed.
Skye watched with worried green eyes, gagged mouth, and
mummified fists as Mistress prepared a coil of hemp for use...
then set to work.
Doubled strands of rope tightened, the long trailing ends
slithered, tension-maintaining hitches were taken, then the next
doubled-strand loop was tightened. Lather, rinse,
repeat. The end result was another of Mistress' box-tie
masterpieces, and this particular example was anchored above by
the traditional shoulder-yoke, and below by waist-encircling
ropes with strands passing between Skye's legs but not cleaving
her pussy. Her butt-cheeks were cleaved, but her labia
were... framed. How was she supposed to work with
that? Obviously, she would soon to be languishing
somewhere (like the bed) while Mistress trekked back downstairs
and did whatever she was planning on doing with the Viking
Queen, so how was Skye going to work with a crotch rope that
didn't slide through her hoo-haw in a helpful manner?
Mistress really was being mean today.
"There you go," Mistress sighed, then "helped" Skye flop down on
her stomach on the bed. She then crossed Skye's ankles and
lashed them together, frog-tied her bent legs, then linked the
nexus of the box-tie with her crossed ankle-bonds, pulled out
all available slack—"Mrrrf!"—and made the whole shebang into a
Skye squirmed and struggled and watched (resentfully) as
mistress carried her entire candy-striper costume into the
walk-in closet... there was a brief pause while Skye assumed she
hung up the dress and did whatever she decided to do with the
rest... then she returned.
"Wait here," Mistress ordered, then made her exit—Click!—locking
the bedroom door behind her.
Languishing on the bed, Skye noted. Nailed it!
She was proud of herself for having correctly predicted her
So... naked, panel-ball-gagged, and box-frog-hogtied with her
fists bundled in black tape... Skye settled in to wait... as
It was only a
little more than an hour before Mistress returned. That
was fine with Skye. She'd managed a short nap and was
quite rested from her Viking Queen diddling marathon down in the
Bondage Clinic. Being a Junior Dominatrix could be hard
work. Who knew? Anyway...
Skye blinked the sleep from her green eyes and stared at
Mistress as she smiled and strolled to the bed. She'd
ditched the lab coat but was still in the same black high-heels,
stockings or pantyhose, and heather-gray summer-weight
dress. Also, her raven-black, gleaming hair was still
loose about her shoulders and framing her gorgeous face.
"Enough sloth," Mistress purred as she attacked the knots
enforcing Skye's box-frog-hogtie.
Hilarious, Skye silently groused.
Skye's bondage was quickly reduced to a simple box-tie (if a
box-tie incorporating waist and non-pussy-cleaving/pussy-framing
crotch-ropes can be called "simple") and she was off the bed and
on her way out the door. She was still naked, of course,
and her semi-tousled ginger hair fluttered about her
panel-ball-gagged, freckled face as she stomped (padded)
along. Her fists remained mummified in black vinyl
tape. Also, Mistress had looped a rope around her neck,
tied a non-compacting knot, and added a simple rope leash to her
ensemble. The coiled end of the tether was clutched in
Mistress' right hand.
Mistress strolled and Skye padded down the hall, down the front
stairs, through the first floor to the kitchen, out the door,
and onto the back deck.
Skye's green eyes popped wide and she nearly tripped on her own
Seated at one of the comfortably padded wrought iron chairs
around a glass-topped, wrought iron café table was... The Viking
Queen! And she was no longer bound and gagged! And
she was no longer naked (except under her clothes)! And
the clothes in question were the same outfit Skye had noticed
hanging from that rack down in the Bondage Clinic;
● A tan, summer-weight suit. Her Nordic
Majesty was wearing the skirt, but the jacket was draped over
the back of her chair.
Her longish blond hair shining in the sun, her blue eyes
twinkling, and a gorgeous smile curling her lips, the
Viking queen uncrossed her legs and gracefully stood as Mistress
and the tethered, naked, box-tied, fist-mummified, and gagged
● A very pretty light-weight blouse in a mottled
● Nude pantyhose.
● Skye assumed she was also wearing the underwear that
had also been hanging on the rack, but couldn't visually
verify their presence. No, strike that, she could see
the bra (valiantly containing the Royal Boobs) under the
semi-sheer fabric of the blouse. The panties were still
an open question (so to speak). Also...
● A very pretty pair of light tan high-heeled pumps
graced the Royal feet. They'd probably been resting on
the base of the rack down below, but Skye hadn't noticed.
"Roxy," Mistress announced, "allow me to introduce Miss Skye
"We've already met," the Viking Queen purred, "but it is nice
to be able to put a name to a gloating face, a pair of frisky
hands, and ten lewd, licentious fingers."
Mistress and her blond guest laughed. Skye blinked and
tried to decide if she should be angry or embarrassed.
Mistress indicated Her Nordic Majesty with a graceful flip of
the wrist. "Skye, this is Roxanne Vos, my very old and
"I'm not that old," Roxanne quipped as she stepped
forward, stooped, and kissed Skye on her freckled
forehead. Stooping had been necessary as she was 5' 11"
and in high-heels and Skye was 5' 2" and in her bare feet.
"I'll take that," she said, relieved Mistress of the coiled end
of Skye's leash, then settled back in her chair.
Mistress sat as well, in another chair, of course.
Skye blinked uncertainly and looked from Mistress to Roxanne and
back. Two unoccupied chairs remained, but between her
box-tie-bonds and tape-bundled fists, pulling one away from the
table was an iffy proposition at best.
"Here, darling," Roxanne chuckled, then gave Skye's leash a tug.
Mistress smiled and nodded, so Skye padded to Roxanne's chair
and allowed herself to be settled onto Roxanne's lap.
Roxanne draped an arm around her shoulders, and Skye was, uh,
comfortable... meaning mortified and a little fidgety. Her
heart was pounding and she was starting to sweat. The sun
was hot... and so was Roxanne Vos!
There was a tea set on the table, and Mistress poured herself a
cup and took a sip.
Skye noted that Roxanne had already poured herself a cup and a
third empty cup and saucer was available... not that Skye was
going to be able to pour herself a cup of refreshing tea any
Roxanne reached behind Skye's head, parted her ginger hair, and
unbuckled the panel-ball-gag. Tea-wise, things were
looking up! Roxanne secured the buckle on the strap's
first hole, then helped Skye expel the ball from her
mouth. The gag was now in necklace-mode with the panel and
glistening ball resting on her freckled chest, under her
saliva-dripping chin and above her rope-framed boobs.
"Well," Roxanne purred, smiling at Mistress. "Get on with
Mistress had already poured a third cup of tea and replenished
Roxanne's cup, and unless it was a trick of the bright sunlight,
she was blushing. Mistress blushing? Skye
wondered. What's that about?
"All in good time," Mistress huffed as she handed the third
cup to Roxanne, then took a sip from her own.
Roxanne held the cup to Skye's lips and she took a careful
sip. Yum! Skye then gazed at her Mistress
with obvious curiosity.
"Roxanne and I met in Japan," Mistress announced.
"We trained with the same Kinbaku Sensi," Roxanne added.
Skye quickly shifted her green eyes to Roxanne. "Y-you're
a d-dominatrix too?"
"Cute as a bug and sharp as a tack," Roxanne chuckled,
then sipped her tea. "Yes, darling, I'm a professional
dominatrix, like your mistress." She shifted her gorgeous
smile to the Mistress in question. "If you don't ask her right
now, I'm taking her home with me."
"Very funny," Mistress muttered (and her blush deepened, maybe).
Skye was amazed. "Ask me what?"
Mistress fortified herself with tea, then set her cup and saucer
on the table. "Would you like to continue your training,
Now Skye was blushing. "Uh... yeah, sure."
Roxanne laughed and rolled her eyes. "You great big
chicken. Ask her!"
Skye blinked and looked from Roxanne... to Mistress... who was
now unmistakably blushing. One of the
disadvantages of a fair complexion, Skye supposed.
Mistress' blue eyes locked with Skye's green eyes. "Would
you like to be my apprentice, Skye? Would you like to
continue your studies and become a real dominatrix?"
"Yes!" Skye gushed, then her smile faded. "But...
work. Mom and Mom are counting on me."
"Mom and Mom?" Roxanne asked.
"Her biological and other mom," Mistress explained
(sort of), "now, hush."
Roxanne smiled and did, indeed, hush.
"Plumeria needs me," Skye added.
"The family business," Mistress explained before Roxanne could
break her vow of silence. She then focused on Skye.
"Does it, really? Is retail fashion your true vocation?"
Skye frowned. "Well..." She swallowed and forced a
nervous smile. "What will it be like?"
"She'll be your Jedi Master and you'll be her Padawan Learner,"
Roxanne chuckled, "only with neon electro-stimulation wands
instead of light sabers."
Mistress favored her fellow Mistress with a pouting smile.
"I should have left you strapped to the table down below," she
purred, then turned to Skye. "That reminds me. Thank
Mistress Vos for helping you with your training."
Skye lifted her gaze to Roxanne. "Thank you, Mistress
"You're welcome, darling," Roxanne purred, kissed Skye's lips,
then smiled at Mistress Monjeau. "Isn't she delightful?"
Skye rolled her eyes. "Not you too," she sighed.
Roxanne and Lacey shared what could only be called a belly
laugh, causing Skye to glower and pout in what a hypothetical
observer would have inevitably characterized as a delightful
Mistress finally controlled herself and her expression became
serious. "Apprenticeship is not something to be entered
into lightly," she intoned.
"Much like traveling the Jundland Wastes," Roxanne said
solemnly, "what with the Tusken Raiders, Krayt Dragons, and—"
"One more Star Wars reference," Mistress interrupted, pointing
at Skye's ugly necklace, "and you'll be wearing that gag."
Roxanne smiled sweetly and made a zipping motion across her
Mistress returned her attention to Skye. "If you want some
time to think about it—"
"Yes!" Skye interrupted. Then blinked and swallowed.
"It's a commitment of years," Mistress warned.
"And the start of a lifelong relationship," Roxanne added, and
this time Mistress didn't admonish her for butting in.
"Yes, Mistress," Skye reiterated. "I want to be your
apprentice. I want to learn how to be a professional
dominatrix. I want to learn everything...
Mistress." She climbed off Roxanne's lap (with mild
difficulty), padded to Mistress, and flopped onto her lap.
"Mistress," she purred with a happy smile, and kissed Lacey's
Roxanne couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry, so she simply
watched Mistress Monjeau and Apprentice Gilroy's long, wet kiss.
Finally, Mistress Monjeau ended the kiss, lifted her new
apprentice off her lap, and stood. "You're staying the
night," she ordered, pointing at Mistress Vos, then shifted her
imperious gaze to Skye. "And as for you... take the
afternoon off." And with that, she turned and strolled
towards the kitchen door. "Steaks on the grill tonight!"
she shouted over her shoulder, and was gone.
Mistress Vos was still in her chair. Apprentice Gilroy was
standing on the deck, naked, box-tied, fist-mummified, her gag
around her neck, and the end of her leash still in Mistress Vos'
hand. Skye stared at Roxanne. Roxanne smiled and
"Get over here so I can congratulate you on your new calling,"
Roxanne said finally, then tugged on Skye's leash.
Skye padded to Roxanne's chair, sat on her lap, once again, and
smiled sweetly. "That's very kind of y—Mrrrf!"
It was the gag, of course. The ball was back in her mouth,
the panel was pressing against her lips, and the buckle was
being tightly secured at the nape of her neck, under her ginger
hair. Mistress Vos' actions had been swift, her fingers
deft, and it was all but over before Skye realized what was
happening. She really is a professional!
"Now," Mistress Vos purred, locking eyes with her old friend's
new apprentice, "I'm going to show you how you should have
entertained me when you had me at your mercy down below
in Lacey's dungeon. Pay close attention, and if you try
closing your legs and force me to go to all the trouble of
stretching you across this table and lashing them apart, you'll
be very sorry. Do you understand?"
Skye blinked her wide, green eyes and nodded.
"Mrrrrrpfh!" (Yes, Mistress.)
What followed could only be described as a master class in
diddling. In the journal Mistress Monjeau ordered Skye to
start keeping, she recorded the event as... "The Revenge of the
And thus it
was that Skye Gilroy embarked on the path to a new career, that
of a Professional Dominatrix.
The temporary shop girl Jodi and Kanoa had hired to take her
place became a permanent hire, and she worked out
beautifully. Her name was Josie Howard, by the way, and
she was 5' 2" (like Skye) with brown hair cropped short in an
truly charming pixie. Her features were round and
symmetrical, her big doe eyes brown, and everyone agreed that
she was both adorable and delightful. (And Josie
didn't appreciate the labels any more than Skye.) She
wasn't into bondage, and if Pallavi and Harper ever talked her
into giving it a try, that would be a story for another day.
Sorting out Skye's relationships and settling into her new life
took time, and even a cursory description of the process would
be lengthy and involved, requiring an epilogue at the very
| Chapter 13