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,
"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.
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
"There's nothing wrong with being a slave," Lynda said.
"Nothing at all. Not everyone has the propensity to be on
"Propensity," Alicia huffed, tugging on her caged wrists.
"If I wasn't locked in these damn cuffs, I'd show you
Lynda combed her fingers through Alicia's tousled hair.
"But you are locked in those damn cuffs, slave," she
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
"Yes," Alicia replied, "Mistress. Do your worst. If
I can take it, you admit I'm a mistress and continue my
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
"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..."
"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
"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
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.
frowned and squirmed her naked body against the rumpled
sheets. Someone was shaking her shoulder. "Stop it,"
"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
"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?
"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,"
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
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
"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!
"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
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!
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.
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
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kick your butt," Alicia
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
"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
"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.
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
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...
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
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
"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
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
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
"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.