|by Van ©2017
in her shoulders-to-big-toes rope bonds and fought the straps
belting her into the antique wheelchair. Her struggles
weren't especially violent and she hadn't suddenly decided she
had any chance whatsoever of wiggling out of her bondage and
getting away, but she couldn't just sit there. Kelly was
nervous. Emily was wheeling her into the unknown, to maybe
an unfurnished room in the attic... or maybe an empty closet...
or a hitherto unsuspected Castle York dungeon. She was
also dealing with the aftermath of watching Cook moisturize the
helplessly bound and deliciously naked body of Mistress Alice,
their super-hot senior employer. So, Kelly was nervous and
horny... again... as evidenced by the purring of her
rope-cleaved pussy... again.
One long descent in the elevator later... Kelly learned that the
"Timeout Room" was in the basement. Emily wheeled her past
the washer and dryer used to deal with the fraction of Castle
York's dirty clothing that wasn't outsourced to a commercial
laundry, past the mansion's massive heat-pump/furnace, and past
rows of shelves laden with cardboard boxes and plastic storage
containers. Even super-rich, super-nice ladies have
clutter in their basements, Kelly thought. Who
knew? Actually, Kelly knew. She was
already aware of the shelves and boxes, but she'd never taken
the time to explore the entire basement, something she now
Emily wheeled Kelly across the full length of the semi-dark
space. The lighting became more and more dim as they
passed more shelves, support columns—some red brick and some
thick steel posts—even more shelves of increasingly
decrepit antique luggage covered with dust, and finally came to
a steel door studded with bolts and set in a steel frame.
Kelly watched as Emily took a long key with wards on both sides
down from a hook beside the door and used it to unlock a heavy,
high-security padlock. Emily then threw back a large bolt
and swung the door open, and if the wheels of the wheelchair
could use a drop or two of oil, the three massive hinges of the
thick and obviously quite heavy door could use a generous squirt
each. The creak as Emily muscled the portal open was
ominous... as well as somewhat theatrical.
The space beyond was dark—until Emily flipped a switch on the
Kelly blinked in the sudden blue-white light and found herself
staring at a twenty by twenty foot cell with an eight foot
ceiling—and she could only characterize the space as a
"cell". The walls were of close-set, rough-faced concrete
blocks with minimal mortar lines, the floor was poured concrete,
and the ceiling was a solid expanse of thick, heavy wooden
Oh-by-the-way... across the cell and lying on the floor was a
thick, wide steel collar atop a gleaming pile of heavy-duty
steel chain, the end of which was attached to a heavy steel
ring-bolt solidly embedded in the wall.
So... Castle York does have a dungeon, Kelly
realized. Wow! Also... Oh-no!
Emily wheeled Kelly into the cell and close to the far wall,
then lifted the collar and—"Mrrrk?"—snapped it closed around
Kelly's neck! The bound and hooded captive blinked in
horror (and with a slight shiver of arousal) as the smiling cook
used a small key to double-lock the collar.
"There," Emily said as she released the safety straps, lifted
Kelly from the chair, and eased her to the hard floor.
"Wait here," she ordered, then wheeled the chair out the door.
Back in the cell, Kelly watched as the door creaked
closed. "Mrrrk?" She heard the bolt slide home with
a solid thud. She assumed Emily also secured the massive
padlock, but the door was too thick for her to hear the
sound. "MRRRK!" Her Gwen-hood-stifled scream echoed
in the cell, but met with no response.
Kelly's heart was hammering again, but her pussy had stopped
purring. She supposed that was progress... or
something. A shiver shook her tightly bound body.
She'd already clocked several hours of languishing up in the
Yoga Studio, and now she'd was to continue languishing?
...locked in a dungeon cell? ...with a steel collar around her
neck and chained to the wall?
Her pussy gave a perfunctory quiver, but continued being
overwhelmed by the situation.
I suppose this is super-advanced languishing, Kelly
She noticed there were additional steel ring-bolts
embedded in the wall... meaning walls, all three walls
without a door, as well as the ceiling. Only the ring-bolt
tethering her collar was attached to anything, but the other
bolts were there. She didn't bother taking a
count. She'd keep that super-fun activity in reserve...
for when she got bored.
More minutes passed.
Kelly's super-advanced languishing continued, and she weakly
squirming and rolling on the floor of the irritatingly well-lit
dungeon. She estimated the length of the chain tethering
her to the wall was insufficient for her to even touch
the closed and locked door, not even if she slithered and rolled
until the chain went taut, she was as close to the door as was
humanly possible, and reached out with her cord-bound
toes. She decided not to perform the exercise required to
validate her estimate. It would be the very definition of
a futile effort. Maybe later, she decided, after
the ring-bolt count and when I'm even more bored with
Suddenly, she heard the sound of the door's sliding bolt being
thrown back. There was a brief pause... and the door
Mistress Wendy was standing in the doorway. Her feet were
bare and she was still wearing her usual jeans and blouse.
She hadn't yet changed for bed.
Wendy smiled at Kelly.
Kelly stared at Mistress.
"You look very beautiful like that, Kelly," Wendy sighed, then
stepped forward and knelt at Kelly's feet. "All naked and
helpless." She began untying Kelly's big-toes, feet, and
ankles. "I know it's silly to gush like a schoolgirl, but
you're very beautiful."
Uh, by all means, gush away, Kelly thought, as long
as you keep untying me.
The untying did continue... all the way up to and including the
knotted crotch-rope formerly cleaving Kelly's pussy and
butt-cheeks. Wendy also produced a key, unlocked the
collar, and the collar and chain clattered to the floor.
"Up you come," Wendy chuckled as she lifted Kelly to her feet,
then gestured to the door. "Go."
Kelly blinked in surprise. She was still bound at the
wrists, waist and forearms, elbows, and upper arms and
torso. She was also still Gwen-hooded, of course, so she
couldn't ask the obvious question: Go where?
"Go," Wendy reiterated, giving Kelly a teasing slap on her left
"Mrrrk!" Kelly favored the junior mistress with a wounded
pout, then turned and strode from the cell. Hours and
hours of languishing in the Yoga Studio, she thought, but
only a few minutes in the 'Timeout Room'. I didn't even
have time to get used to the weight of the collar.
"So very beautiful," Wendy sighed as she followed her temporary
maid, turning off the cell lights and closed the heavy door as
they left. "Those pretty green eyes? I should keep
you hooded all the time."
Cheeks burning, Kelly padded back across the basement in the
direction of the stairs. At least she didn't call me
'adorable' this time.
Kelly wouldn't know 'til they got there, but their ultimate
destination was Wendy's bedroom, and this time the elevator went
unused. She trudged up the stairs with Mistress Wendy
close behind in response to the verbal direction "Up," then went
"Left" or "Right" at each subsequent turn, as ordered.
Kelly could almost hear the smile curling her Mistress'
coral lips as she padded along. It was humiliating,
degrading, and... sexy... not to mention arousing, in a
horrible, horrible manner that made Kelly want to flee
and... escape. Perhaps she could sprint ahead, somehow
find Emily, and throw herself on the mercy of the cook.
Maybe Emily would hide her from Evil Mistress Wendy and keep her
safe... or maybe Evil Cook Emily would hide her so she could
keep her for herself and do horrible, horrible things to her in
Wendy's place. In either case, Kelly knew she wasn't going
to win a footrace with Wendy, not bound and gagged, so why
bother even thinking about it?
As they passed the closed door of Mistress Alice's bedroom Kelly
listened, but couldn't hear a buzzing sound or anything else to
suggest a Hitachi wand was entertaining Alice's naked, bound,
and muzzle-gagged body. The door was thick, so maybe Emily
had returned and was diligently diddling their senior employer,
or maybe Alice was still "enjoying" her preliminary languishing
period. Kelly and her junior employer padded past the door
with the issue unresolved.
They continued down the hallway 'til Wendy stepped forward,
opened her bedroom door, and gestured for Kelly to
Kelly crossed the threshold and looked around. Everything
was as usual. She didn't know what she'd been expecting,
but Wendy's large, luxurious bedroom hadn't suddenly sprouted
dangling chains, designer stocks, fancy pillories, or custom
designed whipping racks. How entirely... normal,
Wendy thought with a hood-muffled sigh.
"Bathroom," Wendy ordered, then followed her captive maid into
the luxurious attached bath. She lifted the commode seat
cover, pointed to the bowl, and gave her next command: "Tinkle."
The Gwen hood was still covering most of Kelly's cheeks, so she
may or may not have blushed, but it was humiliating, degrading,
sexy, etc., to be required to tinkle on command... but she
managed. She even managed to limit her reaction to a
little squirming and a single whining, hood-muffled
complaint—"Mrrr!"—when Wendy embraced her from the side and used
a warm, wet washcloth to very thoroughly clean her
crotch area afterwards. She glanced in the mirror and
noted Mistress Wendy's shameless smile as the washcloth did its
job. Wendy was beautiful... in a humiliating, degrading,
and sexy sort of way.
The needs of Kelly's bladder dealt with, her stomach was
next. Wendy led her to back into the main bedroom and
pointed at the loveseat of a conversation group in front of a
low coffee table. "Sit."
Kelly gracefully planted her bare bottom on the loveseat.
Resting on the coffee table were three items: a crumpled brown
paper bag, a moisture-beaded bottle of Sam Adams Boston Lager,
and a bottle opener. Her tummy grumbled as she watched
Wendy open the bag and produce a modest pile of paper napkins
and a sandwich (Kelly assumed it was a sandwich) wrapped in
white paper. Wendy opened the paper... and it was
a sandwich... and not just any sandwich. Kelly
found herself staring at a preposterously ginormous pile of
thick-sliced pastrami between two slices of rye bread slathered
with yellow mustard!
All New Yorkers fall into three categories: (1) those who prefer
their pastrami sandwiches thick-sliced/thick-chopped, Katz's
Deli-style; (2) those who like them thin-sliced, Carnegie
Deli-style; and (3) those who can't decide. There's a
fourth category of unfortunate souls who don't care for
pastrami, thick- or thin-sliced, but there's no
accounting for some people's lack of taste. There are even
people who think Chicago-style Deep-Dish pizza is actually
pizza, so what ya gonna do? Anyway, Kelly was solidly in
the first category, but she was also laced and buckled in a
tight-fitting Gwen hood!
Kelly tore her gaze from the sandwich and batted her
big-green-eyes at Wendy. "Mrrrrrk!"
Wendy's smile broadened and she proceeded to unbuckle and unlace
the Gwen hood, then gently ease it from Kelly's head.
"Here you go," she purred. She used the opener to pop the
cap off the beer bottle, then held it to Kelly's lips.
Kelly took a drink, then licked her lips and watched Wendy also
take a hit off the bottle. The smiling ginger then spread
a paper napkin in front of Kelly and carefully picked up half
the sandwich—and she had to be careful as, like any proper
Katz's-style pastrami-on-rye, the frikkin' thing was HUGE!
Kelly's mouth was watering.
"Are you angry with me for tricking you into bondage and
abandoning you for all those many long hours?" Wendy inquired.
Kelly's eyes were on the sandwich. "Oh, sure.
Livid. After we eat I'm really gonna give you a piece of
"After we eat?" Wendy chuckled as she moved the
sandwich-half closer and Kelly took an enormous bite.
Kelly chewed and swallowed, savoring the scrumptious, spicy
goodness before answering. "You don't expect me to eat
this entire thing by myself, do you?"
"Point taken," Wendy purred, then held the mountain of cured
meat steady for Kelly's second bite. "Seriously?
Kelly chewed and swallowed. "Livid." She nodded at
the beer and Wendy held it for her to take another drink.
The meal continued. Kelly consumed about three-fifths of
the sandwich and two-thirds of the beer. Wendy ate and
drank the rest. They shared the pickle 50/50.
When the last of the sandwich was consumed and Wendy had dealt
with the trash, they adjourned to the bed.
Kelly went kicking and screaming, of course, but what could she
do? Kelly was naked and thoroughly tied up from shoulders
to waist and Wendy was super-nice, super-hot, and in
charge. The maid was "dragged" from the loveseat, "forced"
to recline on the neatly made bed, and "compelled" to watch as
Mistress unbuttoned and removed her blouse, unzipped and peeled
out of her designer jeans, unclasped and removed her bra, then
slithered out of her panties. It was a veritable
striptease! It was horrible; however, Kelly managed to
keep the leering smile from her lips and the appreciative
twinkle from her eyes... more or less.
Gloriously nude, Wendy climbed onto the bed, pulled her captive
maid into a warm embrace, and they kissed. Lips smacked,
tongues probed, etc., etc. It was long and deep and
wet. A real humdinger. Also, boobs were pressed into
boobs, nipples slipped across nipples, thighs slid against
thighs, and hands caressed rope-dimpled flesh. The hands
were Wendy's, of course, and the flesh was Kelly's, because
Kelly's hands were bound behind her back and pinned against her
spine, unable to caress much of anything, and Wendy's flesh was
definitely not rope-dimpled.
Finally, they came up for air.
Wendy smiled at Kelly and Kelly smiled back. Then, Wendy
kissed Kelly's left breast. "As good as Lin?" she
Kelly made a show of considering the question. "Well... in
terms of complexity... I'm working with a limited sample size
and Lin's composition was artistic, with aesthetic bonus
points... but I'd say your bondage skills are nearly on
a par with Mistress Lin's. Knot placement, tension
control, inescapability... Yes, I'd say you're just about
Wendy chuckled and gave Kelly's left nipple a gentle (and
warning) squeeze. "That wasn't what I was referring to,
"Oh, you mean your makeout skills," Kelly purred.
"So far so good."
The kiss resumed and Kelly gathered more data.
"Okay, you'll do," Kelly conceded the next time they took a
"Oh, I'll do, all right," Wendy chuckled, and her right
hand slid between Kelly's legs to caress the shivering maid's
labia. "Stop that," Wendy chuckled when Kelly closed her
legs on her hand. "Stop squeezing your thighs
together. I'll bind you in a full split if I have to."
"Y-yes, Mistress," Kelly whispered, relaxing her thighs and
spreading her legs. She continued shivering. If
Wendy's hand kept up what it was doing much longer...
Kelly bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
"A friend of mine is throwing a party later in the week," Wendy
Kelly filed this bit of news under Who the Hell Cares?
Mistress hand continued diddling her silly, doing what the rough
knotted-crotch-rope had been unable to accomplish in the yoga
studio, and Kelly responded. And then... just as Kelly was
about to cum, Mistress dropped her next bombshell.
"You'll be coming as my plus-one," Wendy whispered in Kelly's
Amidst the exploding fireworks of orgasm, this information took
awhile to register, but eventually Kelly managed to
respond. "I'll be yer date?"
"After a fashion," Wendy confirmed, her hand continuing to
glide, prolonging Kelly's ecstasy. "It'll be fun.
Lin will be there."
Kelly had to survive a series of orgasmic aftershocks before
answering. "Lin. That's good."
Wendy slowed the pace of her rhythmic caress, metaphorically
easing Kelly back down to earth. "Lin will be very
good," she purred. "I promise."
"Uh huh," Kelly agreed. The subtle emphasis of Mistress
response had been lost in the afterglow.
arrived... as usual.
The party Mistress had mentioned while diddling her in the
bedroom very nearly fell out of Kelly's head. She had
other things on her mind, like...
What to do about Emily?
Obviously, the bubbly Brit was much more than Castle York's
cook. Emily was a player, but how much of a player?
Also, Kelly had thought she was the designated
expediter-of-Mistress-Alice's-nocturnal-bondage-fun, but last
night she'd discovered Cook performing the task, and it
was an enhanced version! Kelly felt somewhat
insulted. She wasn't good enough to strap Mistress to her
bed, naked? (Meaning Mistress naked, not
Kelly.) And slather her body with moisturizer?
(Meaning Mistress' body, not Kelly's.) All Mistress had to
do was ask... and strip... although Kelly would be more than
happy to do that as well. (Meaning stripping Mistress, not
And where did Emily get off changing into super-sexy,
super-skimpy nighties and trundling Kelly around in wheelchairs
and locking her in basement dungeons? Obviously, it was
well past time for Kelly to confront Emily and clear the air...
so she did the exact opposite. She chickened out.
Emily was the one who had to bring it up.
"I want you to know you have nothing to fear from me, Kelly,"
Emily said as they ate breakfast in the kitchen. Cook was
being her usual irritatingly perky, bubbly, smiling self.
Kelly blinked in surprise, a slice of bacon halfway to her open
mouth. "Uh, say what?"
"As Cook I may be your senior, both in position and time in
service," Emily declaimed, "but I won't take advantage of the
situation, or of you."
"Why not?" Kelly frowned, "uh, I mean... take advantage?"
Emily's smile turned coy. "You should realize that a great
many unusual and interesting things happen in York House."
"No, ya think?" Kelly drawled.
"And it includes our employers' circle of friends," Emily added.
"Again," Kelly said evenly, "ya think?"
"Silly Goose," Emily giggled. "In any case, your role in
the household will unfold in the natural course of time, so I
suggest you simply perform your duties and enjoy yourself."
"My role," Kelly sighed. "I don't suppose you could be a
little more specific?"
"Oh, Kelly," Emily said gravely. "I'm only the cook."
Kelly rolled her eyes. "I'm so glad we've cleared
things up," she muttered as she carried her empty breakfast
plate to the sink. "I've got work to catch up on.
Also, bite me."
Emily laughed as Kelly stomped from the kitchen. "Silly
Goose!" she reiterated as the kitchen door swung closed.
Both York sisters had already left the mansion, dressed for
business and off to breakfast meetings to expedite the
frightfully important stuff they did when not making life kinky
and confusing for their temporary live-in maid, so Kelly was
free to scamper around and complete all of her assigned
chores-of-the-day as well as clear the accumulated backlog.
That night Wendy returned home bearing gifts in the form of a
garment bag and a shoe-box.
"Your costume for the party," Mistress explained as she handed
Kelly the bag and box.
Kelly's response was a blushing smile and mild confusion.
"Uh... so... it's a costume party?"
"No," Wendy chuckled as she strolled towards her bedroom to
change. "You're welcome!"
"Uh, thank you!" Kelly belatedly called after her super-nice
employer, then hurried to her room to examine her unexpected
The shoe-box contained, much to Kelly's expectation,
shoes. Specifically, it was a pair of black, strap-on
pumps with three-inch heels. "Nice!" Kelly gasped as she
gave them a thorough examination. They had to be
expensive. She didn't recognize the label, but they were
nicer than any pair she currently owned. Kelly sat on her
bed, eased off her clunky, sensible maid-shoes, then tried on
the pumps. They were comfortable, the mark of well-made
footwear, and the straps were stylish and... hefty. They
didn't look hefty, but the leather was strong and
well-stitched and the buckles anything but flimsy.
At least there aren't padlocks, Kelly thought as she
admired herself in the full-length mirror. She hadn't
expected Mistress to gift her with a pair of kinky bondage
shoes; but then, she didn't know what kind of party she'd been
invited to attend... other than it not being of the costume
variety. Anyway, they were very nice, very hot shoes.
As for the contents of the garment bag, it was also very
nice and very hot. It was a little black dress!
"Wow!" Kelly gasped as she held the dress against her maid's
uniform and body. There was only one way to get the full
effect, of course, so she tossed the dress on her bed and
removed said uniform.
As LBDs went, this one was skimpy—mini-skirt short, with a low
back, a deep, cleavage displaying neckline, and a pair of
spaghetti straps that tied as a halter top at the nape of her
neck. Kelly removed her bra, then squirmed into the clingy
dress and closed its short zipper, no problem. Securing
the halter ties with a neat bow was similarly trouble free.
Kelly turned and smiled at herself in the mirror.
"Mmmm... Scarlett Johansson eat your heart out." The
dress was reminiscent of the saucy little number Black Widow had
worn in the first Avengers movie, when she was tied to
a chair and proceeded to kick the butt of her supposed
interrogators. "I'll need black pantyhose," Kelly decided
as she continued turning and admiring herself, "and no
panties. The lines show." It was true. The
lines of her current panties were clearly visible, and that just
wouldn't do. It would have to be pantyhose and nothing
else. Luckily, meaning by design, the breast cups were
"I'm gonna look sooooo hot," Kelly sighed. She resolved to
properly and politely thank Wendy for the dress and shoes the
next time she saw her. She wouldn't gush or anything, of
course. Best to play it cool, but Wendy would know she was
grateful. And without a doubt, the night of the party she
was gonna look hot!
The Big Night
arrived with Wendy still being mysteriously uninformative about
where they were going. It was early evening when they
climbed into the back of a town car and left Castle York.
Kelly was in her new LBD and high heels, of course, and Wendy in
a nearly as skimpy cocktail dress in a very pretty shade of
emerald green. She looked gorgeous (in Kelly's humble
opinion) and Kelly didn't look so shabby herself (also in
her humble opinion).
After a short ride, only slightly impeded by Manhattan traffic,
they arrived at a brownstone similar to Castle York. They
had to wait while two other vehicles disgorged partygoers...
then it was their turn. Kelly went first, then helped her
employer from the car. They climbed the steps and were
admitted to the brownstone by a rather handsome gentlemen
wearing an expensive suit and holding a guest list.
On the far side of the entryway they were greeted by a woman in
a very attractive red dress. Her dark hair was coiled in a
stylish coif and she was very beautiful, with striking blue
eyes. Kelly watched as Wendy and the brunette exchanged
air-kisses and hugs. Obviously, she was another of Wendy's
friends—and oh-by-the-way, Kelly recognized her! It was
the visitor to Lin's studio, the woman who had gazed at Kelly
when she was tied to Lin's clear acrylic post with Lin's
multicolored ropes on Lin's image-capture stage!
"Joan," Wendy said as she released the brunette.
"Wendy," the brunette countered.
Kelly blinked, her lips curled in a frozen smile as,
side-by-side, Wendy and Joan turned to smile at her.
"Joan, this is my maid and companion, Kelly," Wendy said.
Companion? Cool! Kelly shook Joan's offered
hand. "Pleased to meet you."
"Welcome, Kelly," Joan purred. "You have very
pretty eyes... very green... very memorable."
"Uh, thanks," Kelly muttered. 'Memorable?' Does
she recognize them... meaning me? How could she?
Joan gestured to a side room. "You can get ready in the
cloak room. I've laid out the item you requested on a side
"Excellent," Wendy said, then led Kelly through the door.
"We'll see you in the party."
Kelly could hear party sounds echoing from further inside the
mansion, but docilely followed her employer into the "cloak
room." A long rack held various coats and wraps and there
was a side table, just as Joan had said. And resting on
"Huh?" Kelly found herself staring at a black leather
"Uh... wow." Kelly had seen plenty of photos and
illustrations of armbinders before, online and in books.
This one was classic... and classy. The leather had a
slightly pebbled finish and shone warmly under the overhead
lights. It was the kind that zipped closed, and had a pair
of long, thin straps at the top to yoke and/or crisscross the
wearer's shoulders. There was also a pair of much shorter
and broader straps at the wrist and elbow regions that secured
by means of three tiny straps and buckles each. It was a
high-end product, obviously well-made and expensive, par for the
course with the York sisters and their friends.
"Tonight's party is actually one of Lin's performance pieces,"
Wendy said. "Joan is our hostess, but Lin has specified
all the details of the occasion."
"Like the menu?" Kelly said as she stared at the
armbinder. She shifted her gaze to Wendy. "I'm
"Silly Goose," Wendy chuckled, then nodded at the
armbinder. "Lin requires that a certain proportion of the
guests should be restrained, to establish the ambiance."
Kelly nodded. "So... you want me to zip and buckle you
into that thing?"
Wendy laughed. "Actually, Kelly, it goes better with your
outfit... don't you think?"
Kelly realized her heart was hammering. "I should have
known," she sighed, staring at the armbinder. "I didn't,
but I should have." She sighed again, then locked eyes
with Wendy. "Actually... I guess I knew something, but not
that, or this, or..." She turned and placed her hands
behind her back. "Get on with it."
Wendy spun Kelly back around—planted a deep, long kiss on her
startled lips—spun her around, again, then picked up the
"I'm so grateful to Bess for sending you to us," Wendy said as
she slid the conical sleeve up Kelly's arms and slowly,
carefully zipped the zipper closed.
"You're grateful to Bess?" Kelly demanded as the straps
yoked her shoulders and were buckled to the top of the
binder. "I'm the one letting you, uh, bondagize me
for a party. I don't even know these people... except for
Lin... and this 'Joan' person."
"I'm grateful to you and Bess," Wendy chuckled, then
quickly, deftly secured the elbow and wrist straps' many
buckles. "There, prepared for the party in accordance with
Lin's instructions... almost."
Kelly twisted her arms and tested the binder. It was
just as tight and restrictive as she'd always thought such a
thing would be. "Almost?"
She watched as Wendy opened a drawer in the side table and
produced a black leather collar and matching leash.
"I should have known," Kelly huffed as Wendy fit the collar
around her neck, buckled it closed in the back, then clipped the
end of the leash to the steel ring dangling from the
front. The collar and leash had the same finish as the
armbinder, but whereas the binder was relatively thin and pliant
(except for the elbow, and wrist straps), the collar was thick
and somewhat stiff. It in no way restricted Kelly's
breathing, but it was choker-tight and she could feel
its presence with every breath.
"Perfect," Wendy sighed as she slid her right wrist through the
leash's terminal loop. "Ready to meet Joan's other
Her heart hammering (and her carotid arteries throbbing against
the collar), Kelly affected her best petulant pout. "What
if I say no?"
Wendy's smile broadened. "Than I suppose I'd have to
bother Joan for the loan of one of her many gags, as well as a
riding crop from her extensive flagellation collection.
But then you'd miss out on the food and drink."
"There is that," Kelly groused, then heaved the required and
expected theatrical sigh. "Okay... let's do this thing."
Wendy planted a quick kiss on Kelly's forehead, then took in the
slack in the leash and led her from the cloak room.
It wasn't a
huge party. Joan's place wasn't packed, but there were
dozens of guests in the many sitting rooms and parlors.
All were smartly dressed and a wide range of different ages and
every ethnic group in the city was represented. Most were
women, but there were tuxedo-clad men present.
Also, a small proportion of the chatting and circulating
attendees were... restrained. One tall blonde's wrists
were handcuffed behind her back, a thirty-something brunette in
a blue dress was in a straitjacket (which Kelly thought was very
cool!), and a dude in a tuxedo was walking around in a
And most remarkable of all, a short blonde with a pixie-cut,
like Kelly's, was naked! Nude! Starkers! That
is, she was naked if you didn't count the steel chastity-belt
locked around her loins. She was across the room and her
hands were behind her back so Kelly couldn't see how or if they
were bound. Instead of a collar, a light steel chain
clipped to a ring in the front of the chastity-belt tethered her
to the elegant hand of a forty-something brunette in a dress
spangled with gold and silver seed-beads.
None of the restrained guests or their escorts were in the
immediate area, and Wendy seemed focused on leading Kelly deeper
into the mansion.
"Let's find Lin, then track down the buffet," Wendy suggested
(decreed), smiling and waving at various acquaintances as they
crossed the floor to a distant doorway.
"Whatever," Kelly said. She was still staring at the naked
little blonde. She was twenty-something and about 5' 2",
maybe shorter, very cute, and seemed to be enjoying
Wendy led the way down a short hallway to a large open
space. A crowd of partygoers was clustered around a
circular platform under a bank of bright spotlights. They
continued forward... the crowd parted... and Kelly got her first
clear look at what was garnering so much attention.
Kelly's eyes popped wide, she opened her mouth to scream,
and—"MRRRF!"—it didn't happen. Quick as a bunny Wendy had
embraced her from the side and had her right hand clamped over
"Hush," Wendy whispered in Kelly's ear. "This is Lin's
performance. Don't make a scene."
Kelly's eyes were still wide. Make a SCENE?? It was
one of Robert Bishop's most memorable illustrations come to
life, one drawn for his Fanni Hall series! Lin was
balanced on her splayed knees and leaning forward against a post
with her ankles crossed and her fingers, hands, and arms lashed
together behind her back. An elaborate web of thin rope
crisscrossed and dimpled her arms every few inches and she was
supporting herself by biting down on a hard rubber plug clamped
to a vertical steel post. Her knees were tied to staples
on the platform. There was no question but that the pose had
to be painful, and increasingly so with every passing minute!
As Kelly recalled, Bishop's damsel, a Hong Kong cop captured by
sadistic kidnappers, had been forced to either gag and support
herself with a similar plug, or impale herself on a steel
spike. It had been lethal predicament bondage.
However, Lin's "performance piece" was non-lethal
predicament bondage. Like Bishop's captive cop, Lin might
have been able to extricate herself from the two-inch plug
filling her mouth, but if she did so, she'd fall forward and
cause a pair of clover-style nipple-clamps to tighten. The
clamps in question were already tight, linked by taut wire
cables to a clamp screwed to the post and stretching Lin's
rope-framed breasts into pink cones.
"Mrrrf!" Kelly whined through Wendy's hand. If Lin did
manage to ease herself off the mouth-plug, it wouldn't be
pretty. She might be able to catch herself against the
post as she fell forward, but the tit-clamp's cables would
definitely tighten even further, and if she slid down the
"Lin has always resisted having her nipples pierced," Wendy
whispered in Kelly's left ear. "Those clover-clamps have a
special feature. If sufficient pressure is applied... a
pair of needles pierce each nipple and lock, then the attachment
chains snap off. Her choice is simple, suffer in the
decidedly uncomfortable bondage you see before you, or finally
allow her pretty nips to be pierced."
Kelly continued staring at Lin in horror. The artist's
smooth, firm skin was beaded with sweat and her eyes were closed
in concentration. Suffer... or let your nipples get
pierced, Kelly thought. At least it's better
that Bishop's damsel's predicament. That was suffer or die!
"Will you be a good girl?" Wendy whispered. Kelly
nodded... and Wendy removed her hand.
"She's... in pain." Kelly whispered. "She has to
Wendy nodded. "Suffering for her art."
"She'll be rewarded," a familiar voice said quietly.
Kelly tore her gaze from Lin's "art" to find Joan smiling and
standing at their side. Their hostess handed a flute of
champagne to Wendy, then held a second flute so Kelly could take
a sip. "If Lin survives the night with nipples intact,"
Joan purred, "I've promised to pose for one of her
sculptures." She took a sip of champagne, then held the
flute for Kelly to take a drink, again. "And if her
nipples do wind up perforated, several of her friends
are prepared to gift her with sets of custom designed nipple
shields and rings."
"Gold, silver, platinum," Wendy purred.
"Diamonds, sapphires, opals," Joan added, "all exquisite works
Kelly returned to staring at Lin.
"There will be sex," Joan purred, "in either case," She
then clinked flutes with Wendy.
As Kelly watched, a bead of sweat slid down Lin's brow, dripped
down her cheek, then dropped to the platform floor.
Kelly's heart had been beating fast ever since Wendy "tricked"
her into wearing the armbinder, but that had been nervousness
and wicked anticipation. But now, her heart was hammering,
her breasts heaving, and her pulse throbbing against her collar
with every heartbeat. This was terror, a delicious terror
she had never known. Player or pawn, this was The Game at
a whole new level! But was she a spectator... or a player?
Bess... Kelly thought, what have you gotten me into?