by Van ©2015
		Chapter 4

Alicia tried to follow Mistress Lynda's instructions, to contemplate her helplessness and total dependence on her mistress and to catalog the many ways she might bring her mistress pleasure, but was finding it increasingly difficult.  Naked, bound in a hideously stringent hogtie that included her hair, doubly gagged with a ball-gag and a wide strip of medical tape, any sort of intellectual exercise was problematic.  And as for physical exercise, all she could do was flutter her fingers, wiggle her toes, and blink her eyes.  Anything else was immediately checked by the tight ropes and/or punished her scalp.

Time passed... minutes ticked by... and Alicia's predicament grew progressively worse.  Discomfort began edging towards actual pain.  It wasn't anything she couldn't endure, at the moment, but she knew time was not on her side.  This may have been a mistake, Alicia decided.  She realized the colossal understatement was somewhat humorous, but her predicament was decidedly serious.

Her eyes closed, Alicia was panting through flaring nostrils.  Balanced on her stomach, her hanging breasts heaved, or perhaps shook a little.  Each time she inhaled, her nipples almost, but not quite, touched the carpet.

Alicia became aware of a series of periodic vibrations.  Footsteps?  She opened her eyes and found herself gazing at a pair of smooth, tan, perfect feet with beautifully trimmed and pedicured nails.  Yes, it was footsteps.  The feet were attached to a pair of smooth, tan legs, including a very cute pair of dimpled knees.  Then, the owner of the feet, legs and knees squatted and Alicia could see that it was Kimberly.  She was wearing her spa uniform of white shorts and a pastel-green polo-shirt.

"Mrrrf!"  It was gagged begging.  M'mpfh!"  Alicia was past caring about humiliating herself by begging.

"Oh, you poor, pathetic, wanna-be slave," Kimberly cooed with a dimpled smile.

"Mfff?"  Alicia realized that Kimberly's smile was rather... cold.  A chill rippled down her bent spine and settled in her tummy.

Kimberly stood and stepped to the side, knelt, and Alicia felt her fiddling with the knots of the rope securing her hair.  Thank God!  The rope slackened and she was finally able to move her head and relieve the crick in her neck; however the free ends of the rope remained dangling from her doubled and well-tied ponytail.

Instead of untying the remaining hogtie ropes, Kimberley stood, strolled to one of the cabinets, then returned.

Alicia could see that Kimberly had something behind her back, and the disturbingly cold smile still curled her lips.

Kimberly knelt, again, then rolled and lifted Alicia's stringently hogtied body and cradled her head and shoulders on her lap.

Alicia stared up at Kimberly's incredibly cute face.

"It's not so easy being a slave, is it?" Kimberly purred, then placed her left hand on Alicia's taut abdomen and began a gentle massage.  "It takes dedication and strength to ignore discomfort and put the wishes of your mistress first."

Alicia shivered under Kimberly's light touch.

"Mistress ordered me to ease your condition," Kimberly purred, "since you're a weak, sniveling newbie."  She slid her hand up Alicia's body to her right breast.  "Unfortunately, Mistress Lynda's instructions were not what one could call... specific."  She gave Alicia's breast a firm, gentle squeeze.  "I untied your hair, so your condition is 'eased,' isn't it?"

"Mrrrrf!"  Alicia squirmed her still stringently hogtied body.

"I knew you'd agree," Kimberly purred.  Her hand squeezed... then relaxed, and then began toying with Alicia's erect nipple.

Alicia shivered and weakly squirmed.  Both of her nipples were erect, even though Kimberly's talented fingers were only entertaining her right.  Traitors!  But Alicia wasn't afraid.  Nope, no way, she reassured herself.  I'm not afraid.

"You're somewhat attractive," Kimberly said.  "Killer cheekbones, narrow waist, nice breasts..."  She squeezed Alicia's right breast, again.  "Very nice.  Large, but not too large.  Firm... full... and bindable."  Her dimpled smile remained cold.  "Has anyone ever bound these beautiful things for you?"

"Nrrr!"  Alicia continued squirming.

"I thought not," Kimberly giggled.

Alicia didn't know there was such a thing as a sinister giggle, not until now.  Maybe I should be afraid.

"There are two ways to bind breasts," Kimberly lectured.  "Method one: you tighten cord around the base of each breast.  If it's really tight, the boobs bulge and turn blue.  Not so tight and they turn a little pink... or mauve... and they still bulge, at least a little."  She continued kneading Alicia's right breast.  "In either case, your boobies become very sensitive to things like fingernails, clothespins, Wartenberg wheels..."  She locked eyes with Alicia and her smile widened.  "You know, Wartenberg wheels?  Those needle-sharp pinwheels that are like spurs on handles?" she continued teasing Alicia's nipple.  "Other toys you can use are riding crops, whips, floggers... especially those little mini-floggers.  The bulging globes become very sensitive under the lash, including the nipples."

Alicia stared up into Kimberly's smiling face.  Surely she's joking.  She wouldn't really do that to me... would she?

Kimberly traced her finger across Alicia's left breast.  "Method number two: you tighten multiple cords around the torso and across the breasts.  The boobs bulge between the cords, and you can make the cords parallel, or cross them and make little breast pockets, or go right across the nipples, or frame the nipples on all sides.  There are lots of possibilities."  She continued running her index finger back and forth across Alicia's left breast.  "And it doesn't have to be cord.  You can use cable-ties, wire, rubber strips...  There are lots of delicious possibilities."

Alicia shivered in her stringent bonds, completely at Kimberly's mercy.

"But don't worry, slave," Kimberly purred.  "I have no intention of binding your breasts."  She reached behind her and held up a pair of steel clamps joined by a light steel chain!

"Nrrrk?"  Alicia immediately recognized Clover-style nipple clamps, the kind that tightened when someone tugged on the chain.  She recognized them, yes, but had only ever seen images of the things.  She'd certainly never worn a pair, and very much hoped Kimberly wasn't about to provide her with the experience.

"Nor do I plan on using these little beauties on your cute little nipples," Kimberly continued.

Alicia heaved a very relieved gagged sigh.  She couldn't help it.  "Urrk?"  Then, she froze in her bonds as Kimberly used the tip of one of the clamps to tease her left nipple!  "M'mpfh."  She'd meant to voice a protest, but what came out was a gagged whimper.

"Well, enough indulgence," Kimberly giggled, then tossed the nipple-clamps away, gently rolled Alicia off her lap and onto her stomach, then began untying her hogtie, frog-tie, and ankle bonds.  She left her fellow slave's box-tie bonds and tape and ball-gag intact.

Alicia writhed and shivered, again, but this time with pleasure.  It felt good to be able to extend her legs and straighten her spine.  It felt very good.

"Stop wiggling, silly slave," Kimberly giggled, rolled Alicia over onto her butt and bound arms, then straddled her waist and settled her weight on Alicia's tummy.  She then threaded the end of one of Alicia's former frog-tie ropes through the chest ropes above and below her breasts, tied a hitch, and gave it a firm tug.  This pulled the upper ropes down and the lower ropes up, forming an "X" between Alicia's boobs and fractionally tightening her already tight bonds.  "There," Kimberly said as she climbed to her feet.  The remaining length of the coil of rope was in her right hand.  "Up," she ordered and gave the rope a tug.

Somewhat awkwardly, Alicia managed to climb to her feet.

"It would have been just as efficient to tighten a noose around your pretty neck," Kimberly explained, "but I'm your fellow slave.  It's not my place to give you a collar, even a rope collar."  She took two steps back, turned to face the open door, and tugged on what was now Alicia's leash.  "Come, slave.  Mistress is expecting us."

Alicia blinked in surprise, relief, and apprehension.  Mistress?  We're going to see Lynda?

At the threshold Kimberly stepped into a pair of sneakers, then started down the hallway.  Two steps behind, Alicia followed.  The untidy tangle of her former bonds and the discarded nipple-clamps remained behind.

Alicia padded behind Kimberly, passing room after room, including the library/lounge with the two Kilborn sculptures.  I'm bound like the 'Waiting' sculpture, Alicia reflected, from the waist up, anyway.  They came to a closed door, there was a brief pause while Kimberly knocked, then she opened the door without waiting for a response.

The room beyond was an office, with a large desk, what looked to be a very comfortable office chair, visitor chairs, sofa and easy chairs around a coffee table, bookshelves, and a credenza, all obviously expensive and Modern in style.  Behind the desk was a large picture window providing a pleasant view of a small garden, and standing in the garden was Lynda.  She was dressed for business in a skirt and long-sleeve blouse, but the jacket matching the skirt hung from a clothes-tree near the desk and Mistress' shoes were just inside the sliding glass door that led out onto the garden.  Lynda was talking on her phone and continued talking as Kimberly led Alicia to the center of the office.  Mistress seemed to be unawares of her slaves' arrival.

"Kneel, slave," Kimberly ordered, pointing at the plush, thick carpet.

Alicia settled to her knees and continued watching Lynda... meaning Mistress.  She's so beautiful, Alicia thought, staring at her mistress, and strong... and beautiful.

Lynda finished her call and strolled towards the office.  As she crossed the threshold, Kimberly knelt at Alicia's side and lowered her gaze.  The leash-rope was still in her hand.  "Eyes!" she hissed in a quiet whisper, pitched to be heard only by her fellow slave.

As Alicia lowered her gaze she noticed a slight smile curl Lynda's lips.  Had she noticed Alicia's gaffe of brazenly gazing at her mistress, Kimberly's surreptitious etiquette lesson, or both?

Mistress turned and openly acknowledged the presence of her slaves for the first time.  "Any problems?" she asked.

"No, Mistress," Kimberly answered, her gaze still on the carpet.

Alicia might have mentioned that her box-tie bonds were increasingly a problem for her shoulder joints, but thanks to her gag, all questions were rhetorical.  Mistress' inquiry was obviously meant for Kimberly, anyway.

"Put her in the chair," Lynda ordered, "and make sure she stays there."

"Yes, Mistress," Kimberly replied, then stood, dragged Alicia to her feet, and led her naked, bound, and gagged fellow slave to the right visitor chair facing the desk.  As Lynda settled into her very comfortable and somewhat throne-like office chair, Kimberly knelt, pulled Alicia's ankles together, looped the end of the leash-rope around her ankles and the right chair-leg, and tied them in place.  She'd left slack in the boobs-to-ankles leash-rope, but had cinched Alicia's ankle bonds between her ankles and between her ankles and the chair.  They were solidly lashed to the chair.  Finally, Kimberly stood, strolled behind the chair, and tied the end of Alicia's ponytail to the chair's backrest.  She left slack in the hair-rope as well, but clearly Alicia was in the chair to stay, as Mistress had ordered.

"Thank you, Kimberly," Lynda purred, her eyes on Alicia.  "That will be all."

"Mistress."  Kimberly backed to the office door, her eyes lowered, then made her exit.

Alicia watched her fellow slave depart, then turned back to her mistress.  Lynda's top two blouse buttons were loose, providing a glimpse of her generous breasts, including a provocative hint of her lacy white bra.  Alicia wasn't above such displays herself, as a negotiating tactic, either in the office or a meeting room.  There was a fine line between obvious flirting or perpetrating an equally obvious distraction.  In any case, cleavage display wasn't Alicia's go-to tactic.  Also, Lynda might be able to tease her with her cleavage, but Alicia's mammalian assets were on open display... and framed by tight, neat bands of rope.  Bound, gagged, naked, she reflected, not exactly a strong bargaining position.

"So," Lynda said, smiling at Alicia, "I assume you now realize that becoming my slave-student was a terrible mistake and would like to apologize for wasting my time?"

Alicia's eyes widened.  This was unexpected.  She's giving me a way out?  Alicia blinked, once, then regained her composure... her naked, bound, and gagged composure.  Moment of truth.  Eyes locked with her Mistress, Alicia let a few seconds pass... then slowly shook her head.  Strength, determination, and inner drive had won over weakness and fear.  Did she want to be untied?  Yes.  Did she want her gag removed?  Yes.  Did she want her clothes back?  Hell yes.  Was she willing to admit defeat and abandon her quest to become a mistress?  No.

Lynda's smile never wavered, and she also let time pass before continuing.  "Well then... you're invited to a late dinner, slave, and bring your fellow slave, the skinny blonde.  I'll send Kimberly to collect you.  Be waiting in your birthday suits.  Kimberly will bring something for you to wear.  Now—"

Lynda's phone interrupted with a warbling ring-tone.  Lynda picked it up, gazed at the screen, accepted the call, then lifted it to her ear.  "Thank you for getting back to me," she said, then rose from her chair and strolled towards the sliding door to the garden.  "Are the dates we discussed acceptable?"  Ignoring Alicia completely, she slid open the door, stepped across the threshold, slid the door closed behind her, then strolled out into the garden.

Alicia watched as Lynda continued her conversation.  She certainly had nothing else to do.  She twisted her upper body and tugged on her bound wrists, but Mistress' ropes were as inescapable as ever, and Slave Kimberly's additions were keeping her in the visitor chair.  So, she thought as she watched her beautiful mistress talk on her phone, what's next?  What's gonna happen tonight?  She had another unanswerable question, a question concerning her personal sanity.  She let it fully form in her mind.

Am I fucking crazy?

"I don't think you're crazy at all," Gabby said with a smile.  She'd just finished washing her face and was patting it dry with a towel.

Alicia's immediate answer was an eye roll.  She was otherwise occupied by the process of brushing her teeth.

Both women were in the bathroom of their guest suite and were putting the finishing touches on "dressing" for dinner.  In point of fact, they were naked, wearing nothing but their birthday suits, as Lynda had ordered.  Slave Kimberly hadn't yet arrived with their costumes for the evening.

"You're not crazy," Gabby continued.  "Direct face-time with Mistress Lynda?  I can't think of anything better to do around here."  She leaned over one of the twin washbasins and squinted in the mirror as she put the finishing touches on her makeup.  "Don't get me wrong.  As world class luxury spas go, The Willows is nice, but still..."

Alicia rolled her eyes, again, then rinsed her mouth, patted her mouth dry, and started working on her own makeup.  "I suppose it could have been worse," she sighed, a ghost of a smile curling her lips.  The hogtie had been pretty bad, but she'd survived, and after her interview with Mistress Lynda, the massage Kimberly had given her before releasing her back into the wilds of the spa had been restorative, very restorative.  When she wasn't being a vindictive little gloating bitch, Slave Kimberly was very nice... and had magic hands.

It's like backpacking, Alicia reflected as she worked on her eyelashes.  The first two or three days of a trip are an ordeal, but by the time the trek is over, you hardly notice the way the pack is punishing your shoulders or the boots killing your feet.  Besides... I am not gonna let Lynda think I'm a weakling.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.  It was Kimberly, as expected.  She was wearing the same slave-collar and antique-gold, body-hugging, halter top gown as the night before.  In her hands were two bundles of rolled cloth of fabric similar to her gown.  One was a subdued sky-blue, which she handed to Gabby, and the other was faded, tangerine-orange, which went to Alicia.

Alicia and Gabby let their respective bundles fall open and discovered they were gowns identical to Kimberly's, except for color, of course.

"I take it Mistress has an entire closet full of these things?" Gabby inquired, then stepped into the gown and pulled it up her body.

"We don't get collars?" Alicia purred.

Kimberly smiled.  "Perhaps if you ask Mistress nicely... on your knees, of course."

Alicia smiled back.  "Of course."  She followed Gabby's example and donned her gown.  It was a tight fit, from the hips up, and took a little adjustment, but soon the slightly stretched fabric hugged her torso and breasts and she was tying the halter-top strings at the nape of her neck.  She smoothed the fabric, as did Gabby, and they were ready.

Alicia openly gazed at Gabby, admiring the way the sky-blue fabric embraced her svelte, fit body.  Gabby's nipples were clearly visible, and Alicia realized her own nipples were also on display.  As fashion statements, the gowns were very daring, and nothing Alicia would ever choose to wear on her own.  It wasn't a matter of being sexy.  Alicia enjoyed being admired.  She didn't mind being ogled at a cocktail party, gallery opening, or some other social function, but there needed to be an element of subtlety.  It had to be clear that Alicia had taste and the degree of display was by choice.  This outfit, however, was far too blatant, and far too erotic.

There was also the uniform element.  All three Slaves' had their hair loose about their shoulders, so but for differences in color, complexion, and features, they were three copies of the same basic commodity: slave.

At least, those were Alicia's thoughts, and the objectification was horrible.  Not at all exciting.  Not even a little bit.  Not even as a unique opportunity for a pretend holiday from her naturally dominant persona.  The butterflies fluttering in her tummy were simple nervousness... apprehension... uncertainty.  After all, who knew what Mistress had planned for the evening?  Alicia smiled at Kimberly, who smiled back.  I could ask, but that would be bad form... probably.

"Okay," Kimberly said, still smiling, "follow me, single file, with your wrists crossed behind your back and your eyes lowered.  And no talking."

"Dramatic much?" Gabby chuckled.  "Who died and made you hallway monitor?"

Kimberly's smile never wavered.  "Mistress Lynda."

"Oh," Gabby replied.  "In that case..."  She lowered her gaze to the carpet, where her toes protruded from under her gown.  "Lead on, Mcduff," she muttered.

"Lay on, Mcduff," Alicia said.

Gabby frowned.  "Huh?"

"The quote from Macbeth," Alicia clarified.  "It's 'Lay on, Macduff,' not lead on."

"Literary discussions qualify as talking," Kimberly purred.

"Sorry," Alicia and Gabby said in unison, then giggled (nervously).  The trio left the room with Kimberly in the lead, then Gabby, and Alicia bringing up the rear.

The sidewalk was cool under Alicia's bare feet.  She realized her heart was pounding, again, and her nipples were poking like crazy, but it wasn't the evening chill.  The night was seasonably pleasant.  Stop it! she chided herself.  There's no reason to be nervous... or scared.  That was a ludicrous assertion, of course, and she didn't believe it for a second.

Lynda met her guests and their guide at the entryway, as she had the night before.  She bid them welcome, kissing Kimberly, Gabby, and Alicia on their lips, then led the way into her apartments.  Her hair was loose about her bare shoulders, her feet were bare, and she was wearing another formal strapless gown, this one a very pretty shade of sage-green.

"I thought we'd eat in one of my gardens tonight," Lynda announced.  She led the way to a side door, and out into a magnificent garden venue.  It was enclosed by vine-covered stone walls on three sides.  A small stream emerged from a barred culvert in one wall, meandered its way around moss-covered rocks and boulders, then disappeared through a second barred culvert in the opposite wall.  On the far side of the stream was a full-grown weeping willow, and hanging from its branches were countless vertical strings of LED fairy-lights, mimicking the willow's leafy tendrils.  On the near side of the stream was a small, low table surrounded by cushions, set with stoneware, and lit by candles.

"Beautiful," Alicia sighed.

Lynda smiled and gestured towards the tale.  "Please, be seated," she said as she settled down onto a cushion and folded her legs to the side.  "Kimberly, darling?"

"Yes, Mistress?" Kimberly inquired.

"You may serve," Lynda purred.  "And I believe you're overdressed."

Kimberly bowed.  "Yes, Mistress."  She then backed to the door, spun on her heel, and was gone.

"Overdressed," Gabby whispered under her breath, watching through the window wall as Kimberly disappeared into the interior of the earth-sheltered structure.  She shifted her gaze to Alicia.  "You ain't gonna make me strip, are you?"

Alicia couldn't help but smile.  If Gabby was worried about being ordered to disrobe, why bring it up?  "I suppose that's up to my mistress," she purred.

Gabby blinked in confusion, or pretended to, anyway.  "Huh?  I know you're being trained as if you're a slave, but—"

"Basic logic, slave," Alicia interrupted.  "The mistress of my mistress is my mistress."

Gabby blinked, again.  "Oh."  She shifted her gaze to Lynda.

Lynda smiled at Gabby.  "Well," she said after several seconds, "I suppose there's something to be said for consistency."

Gabby looked from Lynda, to Alicia, then back to Lynda.  "Uh... okay."  She lifted her arms, reached behind her head, untied the bow securing the halter-top strings of her sky-blue gown, then pulled the garment down her body.  She stood, removed the gown completely, and sat back down.

Lynda continued smiling, then shifted her gaze to Alicia.

Alicia was admiring her slave's breasts.  Gabby had such nice breasts, not too big, but nicely shaped, and firm.  And her nipples...  She realized Mistress was smiling at her.  Oh.  A blush colored her cheeks.  She couldn't help it.  As if on their own, her not-quite-trembling fingers untied the bow of her gown's top and she followed Gabby's example by standing, removing her tangerine-orange gown, then sitting back down.

"Alicia," Lynda said as she lifted a carafe from an ice-bucket and poured white wine into a stemmed glass, "I believe you have the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen."  She handed the glass to Alicia, then poured a second glass and handed it to Gabby.  "Firm, full, but not overly large...  They're natural perfection.  Simply beautiful."  She poured a third glass and took a sip.  "Don't you agree, Gabby?"

"Oh, yes," Gabby sighed.  "And her nipples are superb."

Alicia sipped her wine—which was delicious, by the way—and waited for her blushing face to burst into flame.

"I also enjoy teasing you, slave," Lynda chuckled.  "Your blush is also beautiful."

"Her areoles are perfect," Gabby sighed.  "Just the right size to boob to nipple ratio, and—"

"For God's sake shut up!" Alicia hissed.

Gabby smiled and sipped her wine, again.  "I also enjoy teasing you," she purred.

"Which is not your place, slave," Lynda chuckled.

"Sorry, Mistress."  Gabby was equal parts contrition and impertinence—as sexy, irritating, and adorable as ever.

Alicia rolled her eyes, but was still blushing.  Also, her "superb" nipples were standing at attention, and a thrill was quivering between her legs.

Just then, gloriously naked and the very picture of athletic, feminine grace, Kimberly returned with an antipasto tray of olives, prosciutto, sliced cheese, cherry tomatoes and assorted cut-up vegetables, melon slices, etc.

"Chef has gone Italian tonight," Lynda announced, then poured wine for Kimberly.  "Everyone, manga."

Still blushing, Alicia joined the others in nibbling at the antipastos.  She likes my breasts, she thought as she munched on a slice of melon.  Mistress likes my breasts.

Chef had, indeed, "gone Italian."  Dinner was a series of varied courses—soup, fish, meat, fowl, salad, etc.—all authentic Neapolitan.  Thankfully, the portions were small, meaning reasonable, meaning not Italian wedding feast stuff-your-face-'til-you-drop heaping plate after heaping plate.  By the time they were sipping the dessert wine, all were quite satisfied but not bloated.

"Shall we retire to the studio?" Lynda suggested.

"Sure, why not," Gabby giggled as she somewhat awkwardly climbed to her feet.

Alicia smiled, but managed not to roll her eyes.  "Are you drunk, again?" she demanded in a whisper.

Gabby was indignant.  "No, I am most certainly not drunk.  I was just sitting for a long time."

"Well, sit your ass back down until Mistress stands," Alicia ordered.

Gabby blinked, twice.  "Oh."  She then settled back down to her cushion.  "Maybe I am a little tipsy," she admitted, her eyes on the table.

Smiling broadly, Lynda climbed to her feet, followed by the others.  She then led her guests back into the house and down the hallway to the studio.  Kimberly brought up the rear.

As they entered the open, wood-paneled space,  Kimberly took Alicia and Gabby by the hand, led them to the middle of the room, and knelt.  Alicia and Gabby exchanged a slightly nervous smile, then also knelt.

Meanwhile, Lynda had strolled to a cabinet and was returning with a stainless-steel object.  She stopped in front of Alicia and held it for her inspection.

Alicia gazed at the object.  It was a pair of large, well-rounded, nested rings; or rather, four semicircles with a common hinge at one end and a common hasp and padlock at the other.

"Do you know what this is?" Lynda purred.

Alicia lifted her gaze from the rings to Lynda's smiling face.  "I don't know if it has a name, but I know what it's for."

Lynda nodded.  "Cross your wrists behind your back."

Alicia followed the order as Lynda stepped behind her.  She heard a click, cool metal closed around and between her wrists, there was another click, and that was that.

Lynda leaned close from behind and whispered in Alicia's right ear.  "It's called a 'cage cuff,' slave.  You'll find it reasonably comfortable, if you don't struggle."

Alicia couldn't think of a snappy comeback.  Her heart was hammering and her breasts heaved, slightly, as she panted through her slightly open mouth, and that thrill between her legs was back.  She could touch the dangling padlock with the tips of her groping, fluttering fingers, but the rings locked her wrists in the crossed position.  She was helpless.  What's she gonna do next? Alicia wondered (worried).

Meanwhile, Lynda had returned to the cabinets, gathered several steel items, and was returning to her waiting slaves.  She dropped a clattering collection of stainless steel cuffs and lengths of chain to the floor in front of Gabby, handed a clear plastic jar of long steel screws and an Allen wrench to Kimberly, then nodded towards Gabby.  "Cuffs on her ankles, wrists, and upper arms," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," Kimberly said, and set to work.

Alicia watched in fascination as Kimberly fit a cuff around Gabby's right wrist, inserted a screw, and secured it in placed with the "L"-shaped wrench.  The cuff was wide and thick and looked heavy.  Gabby's left wrist was next, and cuff by cuff and limb by limb, Kimberly secured her fellow blond slave in cold, polished steel.  Alicia realized Lynda was watching her watch Kimberly, and found herself blushing, again.

Lynda addressed Kimberly.  "Reverse-prayer hogtie."

"Yes, Mistress," Kimberly whispered, then took a gentle grip on Gabby's hair.  "On your stomach, slave," she ordered.

Gabby's eyes darted from Lynda, to Kimberly, to Alicia, then back to Lynda.  "Reverse-prayer?"

"How dare you question your mistress?" Kimberly hissed, tightening her grip on Gabby's hair.

"Ow!" Gabby whined.

"There, there," Lynda chuckled.  "She's simply nervous, but she will obey.  Isn't that right, slave?"

"Yes, Mistress," Gabby whispered.  "Sorry, Mistress."

Kimberly eased a now cooperative Gabby off her knees and down to the floor, on her stomach, and once again set to work.

Alicia watched as Kimberly first used screw-links to lock Gabby's wrist cuffs behind her back, then folded her arms until her hands were against her spine, just below her shoulder blades, and her wrist cuffs were even with her elbow-cuffs, then used more screw-links to lock Gabby's right elbow-cuff to her right wrist-cuff and her left elbow-cuff to her left wrist-cuff.  It was, indeed, a reverse prayer, enforced by implacable, unforgiving steel, and Gabby's most comfortable option was to hold her hands together palm-to-palm—although Alicia doubted that "comfortable" was a good choice of words.

"Do you practice yoga, Alicia?" Lynda inquired.

"Huh?"  Alicia blinked in surprise, then focused on Lynda.  "Uh, no, Mistress, I don't."

"I see," Lynda purred.  "It's excellent exercise, and very good for the body.  I highly recommend it."

"Yes, Mistress," Alicia whispered.  Her gaze was back on Gabby and Kimberly, who was using a pair of short chains to link Gabby's ankle-cuffs to the screw-link between her wrist-cuffs.  Gabby's heels now rested on her dimpled buttocks.  The result was, indeed, a reverse-prayer hogtie, as Mistress had ordered.  The position wasn't as stringent as the rope hogtie Alicia had endured that morning, but it was bad enough.  Kimberly used a small wrench to methodically tighten each of the screw-links, one by one, then scooted back a couple of feet and smiled at her mistress.

A delicate shiver rippled up and down Alicia's spine and through her stomach as she watched Gabby squirm and explore her condition.  Once again, she realized Lynda was watching her reaction, and her blush intensified.

"Excellent, slave," Lynda said, shifting her smile to Kimberly.

"Thank you, Mistress," Kimberly responded, her dimpled smile widening.

Apparently, making Lynda happy made Kimberly happy, Alicia noted, but that was hardly a revelation.  She watched as Lynda strolled to a different cabinet, then returned with a ball-gag in one hand and a folded black cloth in the other.  She handed the ball-gag to Kimberly.  It had a two-inch sphere of red rubber and a black strap.  Alicia sighed as Kimberly rolled Gabby over and heaved her hogtied, naked body onto her naked lap, inserted the ball into her fellow Slave's pouting mouth, then secured the strap, making sure not to trap any of Gabby's blond, tousled hair.

Meanwhile, Lynda had shaken out the cloth and was refolding it into a long, narrow bandage.  "Why does a mistress gag her bound slave, even in a soundproof room?" she inquired.

Alicia swallowed before answering.  "To make said slave feel even more helpless."  Holding the folded cloth between her two hands,  Lynda stepped behind Alicia's kneeling form, dropped the cloth over her head, and held it before her mouth.  Alicia opened her mouth, obediently, and Lynda thrust the cloth between her teeth, cinched the cloth behind her head.  She then freed her hair, tightened the cinch, and turned it into a well-compacted square-knot.  The cloth was thick.  Alicia estimated her upper and lower teeth were at least a full inch apart.

"Oh!" Kimberly cooed, "how pretty!  With those cheekbones and big brown eyes, she has a gorgeous gag-face."

Alicia blushed, again.  Part of it was the tightness of the gag, and part of it was the expression on Lynda's face as she stepped to the front, lifted Alicia's chin with her left hand, and used her right to straighten her hair.

"Gorgeous, indeed," Lynda said with an affectionate smile.  "Kimberly?" she said, her eyes still locked with Alicia's, "be a dear and fetch two riding crops."

"At once, Mistress."  Kimberly unceremoniously dumped Gabby off her lap—eliciting an expression of gagged outrage from the hogtied slave.

"Mrrrk!"

Alicia watched as Kimberly padded to a cabinet, opened the door, selected a pair of identical riding crops, closed the door, then padded to her Mistress, knelt, and presented the crops balanced on her upturned palms.

Lynda selected a crop, then used its leaf-shaped tip to lift Alicia's chin, again.  "Up," she ordered, and Alicia stood.  Mistress then smiled at Kimberly.  "Slave Gabby is yours for the evening, to do with as you please.  Extract a minimum of ten orgasms before dawn, by any means necessary.  And make sure she satisfies your needs, as well.  Nothing is off limits—nipple clamps, all forms of vibrators, whipping, tickling—nothing.  No permanent marks, however."

"Yes, Mistress."  Kimberly dropped the second riding crop to the carpet, leaned forward on all fours, and kissed Lynda's bare feet, first the right, and then the left.  "Mistress is kind."

"Enough," Lynda chuckled, then turned to Alicia.  "Let's give them some privacy, shall we?"  She gestured to the studio door with the crop.  "Lead the way."  She delivered a gentle tap to Alicia's right breast with the crop.  "I'll let you know if you take a wrong turn."

Alicia's heart was hammering, again, and her breasts were heaving, again.

"What are you waiting for, slave?" Lynda chuckled, slowly tapping her left palm with the crop, "encouragement?"

Alicia did not want encouragement.  She turned and padded towards the door.  Her last view of the studio as Mistress ushered her across the threshold was of Kimberly, naked but for her steel collar and with the crop in her hands, standing over the naked, hog-tied, ball-gagged, and very worried Gabby.