by Van ©2015
		Chapter 5

Naked, her wrists crossed behind her back and locked in a cage-cuff and a thick, black cloth cleave-gagging her mouth, Alicia "led" Mistress Lynda through the various rooms.  This was a challenge for two reasons: (1) it was Mistress Lynda's place and not Alicia's and she didn't know either their destination or the way; and (2) Mistress was using a riding crop to deliver "guidance" in the form of repeated taps on her buttocks and thighs.  It took a couple of trials, but Alicia quickly learned the convention.  She was to turn away from the crop.  If a none-to-gentle but not-so-bad whack arrived on her left butt-cheek, that meant she was expected to turn to the right.  Conversely, a whack on her right butt-cheek was an instruction to turn to the left.  It was more humiliating than painful, but was also a little scary, a possible harbinger of things to come.

Poor Gabby was back in the studio, locked in a stainless steel reverse-prayer hogtie and getting her brains boinked out by Kimberly—or that's what Lynda had ordered to happen, anyway.  So, what did Mistress Lynda have in store for poor Alicia?  The suspense was dreadful, horrible, terrifying... and also arousing.

And then, they arrived at a closed door.  Lynda stepped forward and opened said door, and beyond was a large, expensively appointed and very tasteful bedroom dominated by a very large and luxurious four-post bed—which was not exactly a surprise to Alicia.  Everything was in the same pleasing earth-tones and Modern style as the spa and the rest of Mistress' home, which was also not a surprise.

Another whack landed, this time equally placed across both of Alicia's upper thighs, and she padded forward into the bedroom.  She watched as Lynda closed the bedroom door, then strolled away and disappeared into a walk-in closet.  Standing in the middle of the space, Alicia did a slow pirouette, noting drapes closed across what she assumed was yet another window-wall looking out on yet another garden venue—a writing desk and chair—what looked to be a comfortable loveseat flanked by a pair of comfortable easy chairs and all facing a stone fireplace—an open door leading into what was obviously a bathroom—and finally, the walk-in closet.  A fire was flickering in the fireplace and the overall lighting was adequate but subdued... even romantic.

Alicia's heart was pounding, and that pesky thrill between her legs was back.  Still standing in the center of the room, she faced the walk-in closet, settled to her knees, and lowered her gaze to the plush, soft carpet.  Seconds ticked by... with her pulse still hammering in her ears.  Finally, she heard the thud of Mistress footsteps... and Lynda's bare, tan, perfect feet stepped into view.  The tip of the riding crop touched Alicia's chin and she lifted her head.  Mistress' legs, knees, thighs, her thick, luxuriant pubic bush, her flat, well-sculpted stomach, her full, perfect breasts, and finally her smiling face came into view.  Lynda was nude, and beautiful.

"Such a pretty slave," Lynda sighed, and there was nothing mocking or condescending in her tone.

Alicia sighed through her gag as Mistress dropped the crop, lifted her to her feet, then pulled her into a full-body embrace.  "Mmmmf."  Their breasts and stomachs pressed together as Lynda's arms hugged her tight.  Then, Lynda's hands settled on Alicia's buttocks, and squeezed.  Alicia's thrill intensified and rippled up her spine.

"You heart is pounding, again," Lynda whispered in Alicia's ear, then nuzzled the quivering captive's neck and planted a kiss.  "Come."  One arm around Alicia's body, she led her to the bed.  Lynda then reclined on the bed, leaving Alicia to stand and stare.  Mistress lay on her back and beckoned with open arms.  "Come," she ordered.  "Show Mistress that you've done your homework."

Alicia stared at Lynda's nude, luxuriously sprawled, perfect body, and tugged on her cage-cuffs.  Homework?  Then, she remembered.  She'd been ordered to contemplate ways in which she could bring her Mistress pleasure.  This did nothing to calm Alicia's pulse.  Nor did it still the thrill shivering between her legs.  Bound?  Gagged?  What can I do?

"Silly slave," Lynda chuckled.  "Come."

Alicia stepped forward, then awkwardly eased herself onto the bed and against Lynda's side.

Still smiling, Lynda reached behind Alicia's head, parted her hair and untied the gag, then eased the cloth from her mouth.

Alicia licked her lips and worked her jaws, then shook the hair from her face as best she could and gazed into her mistress' smiling face.  "I-I'll t-try, Mistress," she stammered.

"I'm sure your efforts will be adequate, slave," Lynda purred.  "And if not, I can always retrieve my riding crop and punish you."

"Yes, Mistress," Alicia sighed.  She knew Lynda was teasing, of course.  Wasn't she?  She gazed at Lynda's breasts... her full, firm, perfect breasts.  "May I kiss your breasts, Mistress?" she whispered.

Mistress continued to smile.  "If you think it will bring me pleasure," she finally answered, "then yes, you may."

Alicia squirmed until she was in position, leaned close, and delicately, almost chastely, kissed first Lynda's left nipple... and then her right.  When the world didn't end and Mistress didn't complain, she kissed them again, this time with more enthusiasm.  Then, she began licking, kissing, and sucking on Lynda's right nipple in earnest.  From Lynda's reaction—from Mistress' reaction—Alicia could tell she was on the right track.  She knew that ultimately, her lips and tongue had business between Mistress' legs, but for now, she continued entertaining the rigid, firm, most perfect nipples in the entire world.

Several orgasms followed...  several memorable, wonderful orgasms, some of which were multiple... but that was then.  Now, a sweaty, satisfied and tired Alicia lay against an equally sweaty Lynda's side.  As to whether Mistress Lynda was also satisfied and tired, Alicia couldn't be sure.  Both occupants of the bed had experienced orgasms, and both occupants had pleasured the other, but Alicia was new at all this, and Lynda was not, and the still cage-cuffed slave was at least a little anxious to hear her mistress' verdict.

Have I been good enough?  Alicia had tried her best, but...  Is my mistress pleased?

At some point Lynda had thrown a switch or tapped a button or done something to dim the lights further, even reducing the fire to little more than a weakly flickering nightlight.  Alicia had been busy at the time and missed the details.  The weak firelight shone off Lynda's shining, perfect skin, and perfect breasts, and smiling face... her smiling, beautiful face.

Lynda appeared to notice Alicia's anxious expression.  "After a slow start," she said softly, "you managed a more-than-adequate performance, slave."

Alicia smiled.  She could hear the teasing element in Lynda's voice.  "Mistress is a good teacher," she sighed, allowing a slightly teasing smile to curl her lips.

"Scamp," Lynda chuckled, then hugged Alicia tight.  "Now, as long as we're awake..."

"Yes, Mistress?" Alicia purred, marshaling her strength for another bout of lovemaking.

Lynda heaved a sigh before continuing.  "I'm afraid I've come to the conclusion that you're far too good a slave to ever make more than a fair-to-middling mistress."

Alicia's eyes widened in shock.  "What?  You're wrong."

"There's nothing wrong with being a slave," Lynda said.  "Nothing at all.  Not everyone has the propensity to be on top."

"Propensity," Alicia huffed, tugging on her caged wrists.  "If I wasn't locked in these damn cuffs, I'd show you propensity."

Lynda combed her fingers through Alicia's tousled hair.  "But you are locked in those damn cuffs, slave," she purred.

It was infuriating.  How dare she?  Alicia tugged on the cage-cuffs, again.  "I've done everything you've asked me to do," she muttered.

"And done a magnificent job," Lynda acknowledged, "the very picture of a diligent but inexperienced slave."  She leaned close and kissed Alicia's pouting lips.  "Face it, darling.  You have the desire to please, but not the fire of a mistress."

"Bullshit!" Alicia barked.  "I'm a mistress, no matter what you say... or do."

Lynda's smile turned coy.  "Oh really?  Are you quite sure?"

"Yes," Alicia replied, "Mistress.  Do your worst.  If I can take it, you admit I'm a mistress and continue my training."

Lynda regarded Alicia's glowering face for several seconds.  "And if you whimper and whine and admit you're the slave I know you to be?"

"Not.  Gonna.  Happen."

"I see," Lynda chuckled.  "I admire your spunk, slave, even if I think you're wrong."  She stretched her arms above her head before continuing.  "Tell my, darling, are you familiar with the concept of predicament bondage?"

Alicia swallowed nervously before answering.  She couldn't help herself.  "Yes, I know all about predicament bondage."

"Theoretically," Lynda purred.

"Theoretically," Alicia reluctantly confirmed.

"The slave is placed in a horrible position," Lynda said, "naked, bound, and gagged, of course.  And then... she suffers... for her mistress' entertainment.  I find it has its place in my toy chest.  It's not my absolute favorite activity, but it has its place."  She resumed combing Alicia's hair with her fingers.  "So, you've never experienced predicament bondage, slave?"

"No, Mistress," Alicia admitted.

Lynda continued straightening and combing the tangles away from Alicia's serious (or possibly worried) face.  "I propose a trial.  Tomorrow, I will place you in a cruel, horrible situation.  If you can take it, I'll continue your training.  But if you decide you can't take it, you will admit you're a natural slave, my natural slave."

"What situation?" Alicia demanded.  "What trial?"

Lynda's lips curled in what Alicia found to be a highly irritating smirk.  "That would be telling."

"You expect me to agree to let you do anything you want to me?" Alicia muttered, "and if I don't wimp out, you'll continue my training?"

"That's the wager," Lynda purred.

Alicia stared into Lynda's smiling face for several seconds before answering.  "Double or nothing."

"I'm listening," Lynda answered.

"Do your worst," Alicia said.  "If I can take it, you admit I'm a mistress, you continue my training, and..."

"Yes?"

"You let me tie you up."

Lynda's smile widened.  "Oh my, we are confident."  She hugged Alicia close.  "I agree, slave.  Now, go to sleep.  You're in for a trying time tomorrow."

"Yes, Mistress," Alicia sighed.  She rested her face against Lynda's side... and her perfect, left breast... and listened to the thud of Mistress Lynda's heart.  What the hell have I gotten myself into? she wondered.  What's she gonna do to me?  Alicia was sure Lynda wouldn't do anything to harm her, but from what she knew of predicament bondage, Lynda could make things very bad without causing harm.

Alicia closed her eyes and tried to sleep.  Worrying was pointless.  She was committed.  But committed to what?  She lay in Lynda's arms and did her best to empty her mind.

Eventually... Alicia drifted off.

Alicia frowned and squirmed her naked body against the rumpled sheets.  Someone was shaking her shoulder.  "Stop it," she muttered.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," a soprano voice giggled.

Alicia opened her eyes and blinked in the morning light streaming through the open drapes.  Mistress Lynda did, indeed, have a bedroom window-wall with a view of a very pretty garden venue, but at the moment it was glaringly lit by the newly risen sun and Alicia was not interested.

The soprano voice and rude hand still on her shoulder belonged to the irritatingly chipper Kimberly.  Wearing her spa uniform of shorts and polo-shirt and smiling her usual dimpled smile, the blonde had absolutely no right to look this wide awake and cute this early in the morning.

Alicia hauled herself up to a sitting position.  She was still naked, of course, and her wrists were still cage-cuffed behind her back.  Mistress Lynda was nowhere to be seen, and the bathroom door was open and the room beyond apparently unoccupied.

"Mistress is an early riser," Kimberly purred, apparently reading Alicia's thoughts.  "She's instructed me to prepare you for the day."

"You can start by unlocking these damn cuffs," Alicia sighed, tugging on the cuff-cage.  "Then, I need a hot shower, breakfast, and then—Mrrrpfh!"  Kimberly had retrieved the black cleave-gag, thrust it back in Alicia's mouth, and was knotting the narrowly folded cloth at the nape of her neck, under her dark, tousled hair.  "Nrrrrm!"

"Don't shake your indignant head at me, slave," Kimberly giggled, then took a firm grip on Alicia's hair.  "Mistress has ordered me to be firm, understand?  No more Little Miss Nice Slave."  Kimberly had retrieved the riding crop, as well, and was waving its tip in Alicia's face.  "You'll do what you're told, when you're told, or I'll paddle your fanny 'til it's pink, understand?"

Eyes wide, Alicia nodded, as best she could.  This was a side of Kimberly she hadn't seen before, although she realized the cute little blonde's demeanor had changed by degree, not by kind.  But can a slave be that dominant? Alicia wondered.

"Good," Kimberly huffed, accepting Alicia's half-awake wonderment as acquiesence.  "Off we go."  Her hand still gripping Alicia's hair, Kimberly led the naked, bound, and gagged lawyer from their mistress' bedroom, down the hall, and into Lynda's private gym.  A door on the wall opposite the sauna led to a tiled chamber that was obviously a shower and bathroom.  The fixtures were all stainless steel and the decor was decidedly industrial.  Kimberly pointed to the stainless steel commode.  "Empty your bladder and bowels," she ordered.

Well, Alicia thought as she sat on the steel throne.  That was kinda rude... and clinical.  She followed her fellow slave's orders, as best she could... but was only partially successful.

Kimberly waited, smiling her dimpled smile, and quite obviously enjoying Alicia's humiliation.  "It would seem," Kimberly said sweetly after about a minute, "you're going to need my help."

Alicia watched as Limberly wheeled over what she had taken to be a stainless steel towel rack.  Kimberly removed the towel draped over the rack's waist-high horizontal bar, revealing a thick layer of black rubber padding.  Kimberly then unceremoniously grabbed Alicia by the hair, again, and lifted her off the commode.  "Mrrrf!"  She then dragged her to the rack and bent her over the top bar, face down!  "Mrrrmpfh!"  There were wires padded with clear vinyl tubing attached to the horizontal base supports of the rack on either side and Kimberly pulled Alicia's right foot against the right vertical support, looped the wire around her ankle, and snapped its free end to the base.  "Nrrrf!"  The smiling blonde then shifted position and did the same to Alicia's left ankle on the left side.

"Settle down, slave," Kimberly purred as she released the clip of a third wire attached to one end of the upper part of the left support, stretched it across Alicia's upper arms and back, and clipped it to the support on the right.

Alicia squirmed and struggled, but she was now bent over the rack, more or less in the pike position with her butt and cage-cuffed hands in the air, and she was going to stay that way until Bitch-Slave Kimberly released her.  "Mrrrf!"  Alicia shook her head, trying to get her hanging, tousled hair out of her face, with little success.  Meanwhile, Kimberly had gone to a steel deep-sink, turned on the faucet, and was filling a large, red rubber bag with an attached hose.  Alicia froze in horror.  Despite the tangled curtain of hair, she could see that Kimberly was filling an enema bag!  "Nrrrf?"

"Now, now" Kimberly giggled as she strolled to Alicia's bent over form, bringing the now sloshing, bulging bag with her.  "Just relax."

"Nrrr!"  Alicia felt Kimberly's wet hands parting her butt-cheeks, then, something—obviously the blunt plastic probe of the enema bag's hose, nudged her anus.  There was gentle pressure... her sphincter resisted... then the probe eased forward and past her sphincter.  Its way might have been eased by some sort of lubricant, but Alicia couldn't be sure.  There was a pause of a few seconds, and then—  "Mrrrpfh!"  Alicia shivered and squirmed in her bonds as cold water began flowing from the bag, now hanging somewhere overhead, through the hose, and into her bowels!  "Nrrrpfh!"

"Don't have kittens," Kimberly giggled as she finished administering the enema and withdrew the probe.  "Now, hold that while I get ready for your shower."

Alicia simmered in growing anger as the cold water seemed to twist her intestines in knots.  Truth be told, the water wasn't that cold.  In fact, it had been almost lukewarm when it went in.  It was a matter of relativity.  It felt cold to the fuming, distressed damsel bent over the rack.

Meanwhile, Kimberly had returned to the deep-sink, filled a steel bucket with water, added a dollop of liquid soap, stirred the result with a long-handled brush, then carried the sloshing bucket next to the bathroom's large, deep shower alcove.  Finally, after a too long and totally unnecessary interval (in Alicia's opinion) Kimberly released Alicia from the rack, helped her to the commode, and waited while she relieved herself.

Alicia thought she'd been humiliated before, but now realized she hadn't know the meaning of the word.  She glared at Kimberly, staring the proverbial daggers.  Then, Kimberly flushed the commode, grabbed a handful of brown hair and lifted Alicia off the throne, then led her to the shower alcove.  "Nrrrrm!"  Kimberly forced her to her knees, then stepped back.  Alicia scrambled on the cool tiles until she was facing her handler, then her eyes popped wide in alarm!  "Nrrr!"

Kimberly had what amounted to a small fire hose in her hands, and the nozzle was pointing at Alicia!  Smiling her usual dimpled smile, she triggered the nozzle and Alicia was deluged by cold water!

"Mrrrpfh!"

Kimberly gave Alicia a through wetting down, then turned off the hose and used the brush and soapy water in the bucket to scrub her naked, squirming, complaining form.

"Nrrrfh!"

A thorough rinse followed.  Then, Kimberly did the last thing Alicia expected: she helped the dripping wet, shivering Alicia climb to her feet, turned her around, then unlocked and removed the cuff-cage.  Glowering at her grinning fellow slave, Alicia turned around and pulled the sopping wet gag from her mouth.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kick your butt," Alicia growled.

Kimberly's smile never wavered.  "Because you'd instantly lose your wager with our mistress, of course."  She waited while Alicia untied the gag-cloth still around her neck and tossed it away, then handed the still glowering brunette a towel.  "I've done exactly what Mistress ordered me to do, and in exactly the manner specified," Kim explained.  "She wants you to see what it's like to have even your bodily functions under the control of someone else."

"You didn't have to be so mean," Alicia huffed as she began drying herself.

"I told you," Kimberly responded, "Mistress was specific."

"Specific," Alicia muttered, obviously skeptical.

Kimberly's smile turned coy.  "Actually, she didn't have to be all that specific.  'Kimberly, darling, remember the first time I gave you an enema?  Be like that.'  I knew exactly what she meant."

Alicia had finished drying her body and was now drying her hair.  Her angry stare lessened to a put upon frown.  "I still think you're a bitch," she huffed.

"I know," Kimberly giggled.  "If you win your wager and our mistress continues your training, maybe at some point she'll let you convince me that you're also a bitch."

"One can only hope," Alicia drawled.  She was surprised to find a smile threatening to curl her lips, and quickly suppressed it.  It was hard to stay mad at Kimberly... even if she was being a cute, dimple-cheeked, gloating bitch.

"Kneel in the center of the floor with your hands behind your back," Kimberly ordered.

Alicia was about to ask why—even if it earned her some sort of punishment—then saw that Kimberly had opened a cabinet and pulled out an electric blow dryer.  She carried out her handler's order as Kimberly plugged the dryer's long cord into a wall outlet.  For the next few minutes, Kim used the dryer, as well as a brush and comb, to thoroughly dry and restore Alicia's dark brown hair to its customary glory.

Kimberly stowed her haircare tools and clapped her hands.  "Up you come.  Head for the studio with your hands behind your back.  You should know the way by now."

Alicia rolled her eyes, stood, placed her hands behind her back with her wrists crossed atop her buttocks, and padded from the bathroom.  Kimberly was right behind.

Alicia stomped (meaning padded) into the studio, stopped in the middle of the room, and settled to her knees.

"Your instincts are good, slave," Kimberly purred as she walked to a cabinet and opened the door, "but I need you to stand."

"Whatever," Alicia huffed as she climbed back to her feet.  Still smiling her incredibly cute (and irritating) dimpled smile, Kimberly returned from the cabinet holding three neatly folded black cloths.  She handed her fellow slave the first cloth, Alicia shook it out, and found herself holding an opera glove of jersey-like material.  "What do you want me to do with this?" Alicia muttered.

"What do you think?" Kimberly giggled.

Alicia heaved a sigh and slid the glove over her left hand and tugged it up her arm.  The elastic, slightly clingy material came to just above her elbow and was skintight.  Kimberly handed her the right glove and Alicia donned it as well.  She smoothed the gloves' fingers, then favored her handler with an even stare.  "We going to the Met?" she drawled.  "I'm under-dressed."

Kimberly's only answer was her smile.  She stepped behind Alicia and pulled the brunette's glove-clad hands behind her back.  "Palm to palm," she ordered, "with your fingers fully extended."

Alicia complied, staring straight ahead as Kimberly pulled what felt like a single-sleeve of the same material over her gloved hands, pressing together her fingers, hands, and wrists, and continued pulling it up her arms to her elbows.  Alicia supposed this was bondage, but thought she could probably squirm her way out of the sock-like "binder" if she really tried... probably... maybe.

Just then, Mistress Lynda made her grand entrance.  A smile lit her beautiful face and she was dressed in a gray skirt, matching jacket, and white blouse.  "Perfect timing," she chuckled.

Kimberly dropped to her knees with Alicia only a second or two behind, despite her grumpy mood.

Lynda strolled to a cabinet, pulled out a black leather something-or-other, then strolled to Alicia and held it before her pouting face for inspection.

Alicia recognized a single-sleeve armbinder in black leather, with stainless steel hardware.  By the quality of the leather, with its slightly pebbled finish, and the precision of the stitching, she was sure it was a top-of-the-line model.  It closed with a gusseted zipper followed by crisscrossing laces.  Then, long, dangling straps at the top would secure the binder at the wearer's shoulders.  Finally, wide, secondary straps would close around the wrist and elbow regions. "Your first armbinder?" Lynda inquired.

"Yes, Mistress," Alicia admitted.

"Don't roll your eyes, slave," Lynda chuckled.  Apparently, she was addressing Kimberly.  Alicia's gaze was still on the binder.  "Your first time wasn't that long ago."

"It certainly seems like a long time, Mistress," Kimberly answered in a near whisper.

Lynda chuckled, stepped behind Alicia, and began sliding the binder up and over her gloved and sock-covered arms.  It was a bit of a tight fit, even without the zipper and laces secured, but with Kimberly's adept assistance she managed.

Alicia stood perfectly still, staring straight ahead as Mistress dropped the top straps over her shoulders on the left and right, crossed them over her chest, then pulled them back under her armpits on either side and secured the ends through buckles on either side of the binder.  The increasingly helpless damsel ignored her pounding heart, heaving breasts, erect nipples, and the thrill quivering between her legs as Mistress closed the zipper, tightened the laces from just above her wrists to her elbows, then buckled the secondary straps around her wrists and elbows.

"Why don't you convince yourself that you won't be wiggling out of your new costume, slave," Lynda suggested (ordered).

Alicia heaved a sigh, then began twisting at the waist and struggling to separate her encased arms.  She already knew it was hopeless.  Obviously she was helpless, but she struggled, nonetheless.

Alicia continued struggling, then stopped and stared when Kimberly dropped something on the carpet at her feet, knelt, and began strapping a wide leather cuff around her right ankle.  She watched as Kim finished securing the buckles—there were three of them, all very small—then closed a second cuff around her left ankle and secured its buckles.  An eight-inch strap joined the cuffs.  Alicia was now hobbled and bound.

Alicia was busy inspecting her hobbles, so it took a few seconds for her to realize Lynda was standing in front of her and holding something new for her to inspect, something round, shining, and—  "Oh!"  It was a steel slave collar, similar to the one she's seen on Kimberly, only it looked to be somewhat heavier, maybe.  It had a ring in the front, like Kim's, but instead of a hasp and padlock in the back, there was a flush-mounted, built-in lock.

"Hold her hair," Lynda purred, and Kimberly stood and gathered Alicia's long, shining locks together atop her head.  And then, her eyes locked with Alicia's, Lynda closed the steel collar around her neck.

Alicia flinched when the lock clicked home at the nape of her neck.  She couldn't help it.  Mistress released the collar... and Alicia felt the full weight of the cool steel.  The collar was heavy, but it was smooth and all of its edges were well-rounded.  Alicia decided she'd get used to it... eventually.  And it wasn't like she had an actual choice.

Lynda hooked her right index finger through the ring in the front of the collar, pulled her naked, bound, hobbled, and now collared slave close, and kissed her lips.

"Mrrrf!"  Instinctively, Alicia tried to take a step back, but discovered Kimberly was now standing close behind with her hands were on her buttocks and pushing her forward.  Lynda's crooked finger and the collar wouldn't let her break away from the kiss, anyway.  "Mrrrrm,"  This time it was a moan, not a protest.  Mistress' left hand had cupped her left breast and was giving it a gentle squeeze.

Finally, Lynda broke the kiss and strolled to one of the cabinets.  Kimberly remained in close contact against Alicia's encased arms and trembling body, her hands still resting on Alicia's butt-cheeks.

"Poor helpless slave," Kimberly whispered in Alicia's ear.

Alicia blushed, but otherwise ignored the gloating, teasing, adorable little bitch.

Meanwhile, Lynda had returned with a black leather gag in her hands.  It was a panel-gag with a distressingly large mouth-plug of black rubber, a broad, flat panel that would cover Alicia's mouth from just under her nose, to the point of her chin, and from ear to ear, and closed with three thin straps with stainless steel buckles.  "Your collar is a training aid," Lynda explained as she let Alicia get a good, long look at the gag.  "It's also a convenient way to lead you around, once I add a nice leash."

A training aid, Alicia thought as she stared at the gag.  I suppose locking me in a 'real' collar will require a ceremony of some sort.  But why is she babbling about the collar?

Lynda readied the gag to enter Alicia's mouth.  "This gag, however," she continued, "is not a training aid.  It's the proverbial point of no return.  Once you open your pretty lips and let me gag you, you're committed to whatever I have planned.  And I promise you, it will be terrifying.  You can kick and fight and scream all you want, or rather, you can try to kick and fight and scream, but you will go through with the trial.  Or, right now, you can call off the wager, drop to your knees, and beg me to take you as my slave.  Conveniently, you're already wearing a collar."

Alicia stared at the gag.  The plug was huge.  She wasn't entirely sure the thing could fit in her mouth without dislocating her jaw.  Point of no return, she mused.  Her heart was pounding in her ears and her breasts heaving, at least a little.  Seconds passed.  Then, she lifted her gaze, locked eyes with Lynda, and opened her mouth.

"Excellent," Lynda purred, then pushed the plug into Alicia's mouth until it snapped behind her teeth.  Kimberly gathered Alicia's hair atop her head, again, and Lynda closed and tightened the gag's three buckles.

Alicia was relieved, to a degree, to find that the plug was comprised of medium density foam around a much smaller, hard rubber core.  It filled her mouth to capacity, but hadn't required the breaking of her jaw or the loss of any teeth to work its way inside.  The leather of the front panel was thin and somewhat pliant, and when Lynda was finished securing all three buckles, it hugged her lower face like a hand-gag.

"Even her leather gag-face is pretty," Kimberly cooed as she stepped to the front and straightened Alicia's hair.

Meanwhile, Lynda had gone to a cabinet and returned with a leash, a stainless steel chain of nested-links with a spring-loaded clip at one end and a black leather wrist loop at the other.  It was exactly the kind a leash used to take a large dog for a walk.  Still smiling her beautiful smile, Mistress clipped the leash to Alicia's collar and slipped the loop over her right wrist.  "Well, it's too late now, slave," she chuckled.  "You're past the point of no return."  She then turned and headed for the studio door.

The leash snapped taut and Alicia had no choice but to follow.  Kimberly brought up the rear.