| by Van ©2016
bound in crimson rope from her big toes to her shoulders,
gagged with a breathable ball-gag, and otherwise naked, June
wiggled and kicked, squirmed and struggled... then did it
some more... all with the same non-result. She knew
that even if her palms and thumbs weren't lashed down, the
key knot—the final knot tied by Grace, the knot that had to
be untied first if she was going to escape—would be
totally out of her reach. But she had to
try. Grace had ordered her to try. June
continued rolling and writhing on the jade-green,
wall-to-wall floor mat, alone in the Beach Bungalow's
expansive and minimally decorated (meaning not decorated)
Yoga Studio, and fought to emerge from her red rope cocoon
as a naked and sweaty but triumphant butterfly.
And with that, June
Finally, the 800-pound gorilla in the corner of the room
decided he'd had enough, knuckle-walked to June's side, and
gently slapped her ball-gagged face. "Snap out of it!"
he ordered in his cultured, well-educated Oxford
accent. "Protege only—or protege and girlfriend?
Professional relationship only—or will you take a chance on
"Mrrrpfh?" June responded. [Gaglish to English
The gorilla rolled his eyes. "What do you think Ms.
Scanlon was hinting about?" He regarded June with
obvious disappointment. "You're not usually this
"Mfff!" June huffed.
"Make up your mind, young lady," the gorilla
continued. "Opportunities like this don't grow on
banana trees." And with that, he snapped the meaty
fingers of his right hand and disappeared in a puff of red
Good point, June conceded, then relaxed in her
bonds. But you didn't have to slap me.
She heaved a deep sigh, sending air whistling through her
ventilated ball-gag. I'm dreaming again,
The sun was setting, flooding the studio with direct, red and
orange light. June liked the way the slowly fading
luminescence played across the blond paneling... and the golden
glow that highlighted the gray and purple clouds as the
shimmering solar disk descended to the Pacific horizon. It
was very pretty. Also...
Why not? she decided. Why not love? Who
am I to argue with an 800-pound gorilla?
not-so-secret door of the Yoga Studio rumbled open just as the
last light of the sun was disappearing below the horizon.
June was still naked, bound, and gagged, of course. Aside
from the time of day and lack of light, the only difference
between the present and the last time Grace had appeared was the
absence of the red scrunchy that had enforced June's
ponytail. The bound and gagged prisoner's brown curls were
now a tousled mass, half-covering her ball-gagged face as she
lifted her head from the mat-covered floor.
Grace smiled as she flicked a switch and turned on the studio
lights, then strolled towards June's weakly writhing form.
"Yes, protege," she chuckled, "the Third Exercise is
over." Grace was wearing the same open-toe heels,
pencil-skirt, and cotton blouse as before.
June heaved a relieved (and nervous) sigh, then
complained—"Mrk!"—when Grace knelt at her side, rolled her over
onto her boobs, tummy, thighs, knees, and bound toes, and began
untying the key knot. June was complaining about being
handled like a sack of potatoes, not the fact that she was being
untied. Grace then worked her way down June's legs,
releasing the doubled-loops of red rope binding them together.
June was nervous because she was waiting for an opportunity to
share her new feelings—which weren't really all that new.
She'd been smitten with Grace Scanlon from the instant they
met. There was certainly nothing new about that.
What was new was June's resolve to do something about
it... to roll the dice and take her chance. It was making
her nervous. The first stages of romance always made
Grace rolled her protege onto her shoulders, box-tied arms, and
rump, and June lifted her gagged head and watched as her legs
were released, loop-by-loop, hitch-by-hitch, and
knot-by-knot. What if she freaks out? June
thought as the red ropes melted away. She noted the series
of flushed rope-marks that remained behind on her skin, but even
as she watched, the pink, detailed fabric-patterns marking her
upper thighs were fading in color to match the rest of her
skin. Her best (inexperienced) guess was that the marks
would soon fade completely. An hour, she
decided. Two hours, tops. Certainly by
Grace was releasing the extension knots as well as June's actual
bondage, and each time a red coil was freed, she wadded it into
a rough bundle and tossed it aside. Eventually, the first
coil she had tied, the one that had formerly bound June's
ankles, feet, and big toes, slithered away and June was free
from the waist down—from the crotch down,
actually. Grace shifted a few feet forward and began
untying the crotch and waist rope.
A shiver quivered through June's still box-tied and
ball-gagged body as the four red strands slid from between her
labia and butt-crack, two at a time. She gazed up at her
mentor through the curtain of her tousled hair as Grace untied
the waist-rope. Had Grace's smile changed? Was it
more... sensual... or was it June's imagination, something she wanted
to see? The extension knot of the waist- and
crotch-rope was released and it joined the tangled heap of red
coils on the mat. June took the occasion to heave herself
up and sit on her butt. The box-tie meant she had to
complete the maneuver using mostly her ab muscles, but she
managed. Who knew this was how all those
sit-ups would pay off? she mused.
Grace's smile widened. "Hold your horses, darling," she
"Mrrrf!" June shook the hair from her face, lifted her
chin, and thrust her ball-gagged mouth forward.
"Oh, very well," Grace chuckled, pulled the key from her pocket,
leaned close and reached behind June's head with both hands, and
unlocked the padlock securing the ball-gag. She then
released the buckle, re-secured it on its first hole, and locked
the padlock back through the tongue. Finally, she gently
plucked the ventilated ball from June's mouth and let it
drop. Her protege was now wearing a ball-gag
necklace. "Now, what's so important that I had
June had lunged forward and was planting a very enthusiastic
kiss on her mentor's startled lips!
Grace flinched in surprise and pushed her naked, box-tied
protege away... eventually... then wiped her lips with the back
of her left hand. "Well, that was unexpec—mrrrpfh!"
June had done it again! And this time she tried (and
succeeded) in using tongue!
Grace returned the wet, deep kiss for several seconds, then
pushed June away and scrambled to her feet. "None of
that!" she scolded, shaking her right index finger while again
using the back of her left hand to wipe her lips. Her
stern words were at odds with the smile curling her lips and the
twinkle in her green eyes. Also, a blush colored her now
June shrugged her rope-yoked shoulders and flipped the hair from
her face, again. "You're beautiful," she stated, "and I
Grace's smile became decidedly skeptical. "You're
beautiful and I love you?" she chuckled. "I expect better
from a budding writer."
"Hmm... point taken." June affected a thoughtful
expression. "Let me see... You're the very vision of
Aphrodite-among-mortals, and my adoring heart goes pitter-patter
with unquenchable passion. Better?"
Still smiling, Grace slowly shook her head. "Work on it."
June smiled up at Grace. Her heart was going
pitter-patter. Too much? Too little? Too
strange? Too dorky?
Finally, Grace heaved a sigh, leaned down and took June by the
arms, then helped her to her feet. "C'mon," she said as
she turned and headed for the studio door. "It's time for
June's stomach rumbled. "I can eat," she
acknowledged. Apparently, being naked, bound, and gagged
all afternoon had given her an appetite. "Wait!" she
objected, then belatedly padded after her mentor. "I'm
naked and tied up!"
Grace paused in the doorway, turned, and favored her protege
with a wicked smile. "Such powers of observation.
Yes, you're naked and tied up. And, apparently, in
love." With that, she turned and strolled towards the
June blushed. It was clear who was in charge. "The
least she could have done is say she loved me back," June
muttered under her breath.
the kitchen several paces behind her mentor. She stood in
the doorway and watched as Grace gathered the elements of two
place settings that had been on the small dining table next to
the expansive kitchen window and returned them to the kitchen
island. Saying nothing and ignoring her naked and box-tied
protege, she arranged one place setting before one of the bar
stools on the counter side of the island and returned the
remaining tableware, plate, and wine glass to the appropriate
drawer or cabinet.
There was a yummy aroma in the air, something June couldn't
quite place. Whatever it was, it was spicy and savory...
possibly Italian... and set her stomach to grumbling again.
Grace removed a pair of baked potatoes from a warming oven, slit
them with a small knife, and carefully squeezed a generous
opening in each. She then spooned large helpings of some
sort of filling into the steaming cavities and transferred them
to a single plate.
"Baked potatoes with turkey sausage, arugala, mascarpone cheese,
tomato-basil sauce, diced onion, garlic, olive oil, etc., etc."
Grace announced as she poured red wine from an already opened
bottle into a single stemmed glass, then sat on the stool next
to June, leaned close, combed her protege's hair back with her
fingers into a ponytail, and restored the red scrunchy to keep
it in place.
Her hair safely out of her face, June accepted a sip of wine...
then a fork-load of stuffed potato. "Yum," she mumbled as
she chewed and swallowed.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Grace chuckled, then forked
some potato into her own mouth.
The meal continued in companionable silence... or silence,
anyway. Both diners—the smartly dressed, beautiful mentor
and her naked, box-tied, and equally beautiful protege—were as
nervous as a pair of cats at a dog show.
Finally... after several sips of excellent wine and bites of
delicious stuffed potato, June decided that enough was
enough. "Well?" she demanded.
Grace smiled. "Well, what?"
June rolled her eyes (and blushed). "I love you,
Grace smiled and took a sip of wine. "I remember,
June. Also, you think I'm beautiful."
"You are beautiful," June stated, "obviously,
and I love you."
Grace forked more potato into June's mouth. "You're
beautiful as well, protege. Surely you know that."
June chewed and swallowed. "Of course I know that,"
she purred. "I'm especially beautiful when I'm
naked and tied up... and don't call me Shirley."
Grace rolled her eyes and blushed (just a little). "Why
Miss Kempe," she chuckled, "I do believe you're trying to seduce
June accepted another sip of wine. She was blushing, as
well. "Is it working?" she asked quietly.
Grace leaned close and kissed June's lips... and the kiss was
returned. Then, they resumed their meal. That is,
Grace continued feeding her protege and herself and June ate.
"As you've pointed out," Grace said between bites, "I'm into
bondage games, but what you have to understand is that I'm also
June smiled and shrugged her rope-yoked shoulders and gave her
box-tie bonds a perfunctory struggle. "I sort of got that
impression," she purred.
"Cheeky monkey," Grace chuckled, then poured more wine into the
glass and took a sip. "Levity aside... I would never harm
you, darling, physically or emotionally... but I insist on
complete control. Think of it as a personal idiosyncrasy."
A thrill rippled up June's spine. 'Darling!'
She nodded gravely. "And by 'control,' you mean...
Grace's smile turned somewhat coy (or possibly sinister).
"You will follow every order I give you and carry out every
instruction, to the best of your ability, and without
For some reason, that thrill was back. Surrender my
free will to another person? Absurd!
Ridiculous! On the other hand... it was Grace who
was doing the asking. June chewed and swallowed the last
of her potato. "I reserve the right to make frightfully
clever remarks and devastatingly snarky comments."
Grace chewed and swallowed the last of her potato.
"And I reserve the right to punish you for making frightfully
clever remarks and devastatingly snarky comments... without
causing actual harm, of course."
June swallowed nervously. "Of course," she agreed.
"Don't have kittens," Grace chuckled. "Any marks inflicted
will be painful, but won't break the skin and will fade
quickly. And speaking of pain," Grace continued.
"How do your shoulders feel?"
June rolled the red rope yoked shoulders in question. "My
shoulders? Fine, just fine."
Grace's smile shifted from possibly sinister to possibly evil.
"Good. You can clean all this up in the morning."
It finally dawned on June what was really at issue. "Oh,
you mean my shoulders." She rolled her shoulders
again, and this time winced in pain. "They're in agony.
You'd better untie me immediately."
Grace finished the last of the wine, then pointed towards the
open doorway. "Get your lying ass to my bedroom," she
ordered, "right now." Her smile had shifted from possibly
evil, back through possibly sinister, then settled on
unmistakably amused, which had the effect of more or less
cancelling out her stern tone.
June heaved a somewhat theatrical sigh, then spun to the side,
hopped off the stool, and padded away. "Yes, Mistress,"
Grace was focusing on her bound protege's dimpled buttocks,
strong, smooth legs, and perfect feet. "We'll forgo the
traditional 'mistress' and 'slave' labels. Mentor and
protege will do just fine."
"Whatever you say," June called back over her right shoulder,
paused in the doorway, and favored Grace with a saucy
smirk. "Your every word is law,
Grace followed her naked, bound protege from the kitchen at a
stately pace, smiling and shaking her head. "Oh, you're
going to pay for that one," she purred.
was, indeed, going pitter-patter. Also, that pesky thrill
had found its way from her spine, through her tummy, and was
taking up residence further south, between her striding
legs. She loves me! Of course, Grace hadn't
actually spoken the words... but she will, eventually.
June was certain of it! And in the meanwhile... we're
on our way to her bedroom!
And then, she was there! June padded to the middle of the
large room. She'd seen her mentor's bedchamber before, of
course, but only to stick her head inside while looking for
Grace. She'd never explored the place. It wasn't
that she wasn't curious, of course, but if Grace caught her
snooping, it would be... awkward. Anyway, the layout was
similar to June's own guest room and the bed was the same size,
but the total square footage of the room was greater. June
was sure of it.
"Into the bathroom, protege," Grace ordered.
June turned back to face the bedroom door... and the thrill
doubled in intensity. She's so beautiful, June
sighed, and in charge... of me! June smiled and
executed a box-tied, naked curtsy. "Yes, Your Grace," she
said gravely, then scampered for the bathroom, as ordered.
Another 'cheeky monkey' remark? Yes, but June couldn't
Grace shook her smiling head and followed her protege.
"You are determined to provoke me, you silly
girl." They entered the bathroom and Grace pointed to the
June took the hint, padded to the commode, sat, and emptied her
bladder. She didn't blush, but it was a little
embarrassing. It was intimate.
Afterwards, Grace patted her protege's crotch region with a fold
of bathroom tissue—which was even more intimate—then
used her own toothbrush and wintergreen flavored toothpaste to
brush first June's teeth... and then her own.
Intimate, June mused as Grace used a soapy sponge pad to
gently scrub her face... meaning June's face... then
used a damp washcloth to rinse her skin... then applied a light
coat of moisturizing creme with a very pleasant aroma.
Grace then repeated the process on her own face.
"I could use a shower," June said quietly, and it was
true. She'd needed a shower after they completed their
run. But instead, June had spent most of the hours since
rolling and squirming in tight bondage on the floor of the Yoga
"In the morning, darling," Grace purred, then led June from the
bathroom, into the main bedroom, and towards the bed. June
watched as she pulled back the covers. "Sit," she ordered,
patting the mattress.
June did so, and Grace sat next to her and reached behind her
protege's head, June heard the click and rattle of the
ball-gag's padlock being unlocked and the buckle released, then
Grace gently thrust the ball into her compliant mouth and
tightened the strap at the nape of her neck. "Mrrrf!" the
now gagged prisoner complained.
"Hush," Grace purred, then stood and deposited the padlock and
key in the top drawer of her nightstand. She then strolled
into the walk-in closet and quickly returned with a long, thin,
bright red hair-ribbon fluttering from the fingers of her right
June watched (and cooperated) as Grace lifted her feet onto the
bed and used the ribbon to bind her ankles, feet, and big
toes. It was the same technique Grace had employed to bind
her feet in the Yoga Studio, only this time the task was
accomplished with the long, narrow, crimson band of silk.
The final knot was a doubled-knotted bow.
Grace stood and smiled down at her naked, box-tied, ball-gagged,
and ribbon-bound protege. "Stay," she ordered, then
strolled back into the closet.
'Stay,' June fumed. Hilarious. She
wasn't really mad, but being under Grace's "control" like this
was going to take a little getting used to. She twisted
her ribbon-bound feet, and decided that wasn't a good
idea. Grace had tied the ribbon rather loosely, but the
narrow, flat silk wasn't as kind as the thicker, braided nylon
rope employed back in the Studio, the same rope that was still
binding her upper body. She quickly discovered that if she
twisted her bound toes, feet, and ankles more than a little, her
new bonds tightened and bit like wire. She found she could
separate her knees a few inches, but that was it. Rolling
off the bed and hopping around the room might be
possible, but that would be disobedient and would no doubt earn
her more demerits. In any case, she didn't want to
leave the bed.
Something like a minute passed... then June's eyes popped wide
above her ball-gagged mouth.
Grace had returned, and she was sauna-ready. That is, her
40-something, pale, well-toned, curvaceous, and beautiful body
was gloriously nude.
Needless to say, that pesky thrill was back like crazy,
rippling up and down June's spine, bouncing around in her tummy,
and between her legs. Grace sat on the bed, opened
one of the lower nightstand drawers, and produced something, but
June couldn't see what it was. Grace's body was in the way
(and was very distracting).
Grace then slid between the sheets and squirmed until her body
was close—as in touching—the prisoner-of-the-bed.
Grace leaned away and tapped a button on a small remote resting
on the nightstand... and the lights began to fade.
June had issues. Specifically... (1) Grace was right
there, meaning their naked bodies were in significant
contact. This did nothing to calm June's pounding heart,
alleviate her tingling problem, or help her control her somewhat
rapid breathing. (2) The room was now dark except for a
very dim, blue-green, band of LED nightlights built into the
baseboards, where the walls met the carpeting. (3) the
ceiling was now ablaze in a very credible facsimile of the night
sky, constellations, Milky Way, and all. It might be
countless LED lights embedded in the ceiling, varying in size
from pinprick to teeny-tiny to tiny; or perhaps it was thousands
of phosphorescent dots painted on the ceiling and being bathed
in UV light from indirect sources. However it was done,
the effect was very pretty.
"You're shivering," Grace whispered.
"Mrrrf," June agreed.
Grace reached behind her back and produced whatever she'd pulled
from the nightstand drawer, a buzzing noise sounded,
and—"Mrrrk?"—even in the dim light June could now see that the
mysterious "something" was a torpedo-style vibrator! The
shaft and rounded tip were latex-clad, glistening in a vibrant
(and vibrating) blue-green color, but that may or may not have
been their true color. Truth be told, color was way down
on June's ever-growing list of concerns. The torpedo was vibrating—"Mrrrm!"—and
Grace was using its business end to tease her right nipple...
meaning June's right nipple... and then her left nipple!
June tried to squirm away. It seemed like the thing to do,
meaning to try. However, Grace had slid her left foot
between June's knees. This had the effect of tightening her
toe-foot-ankle ribbon-bonds—just a tad, but not enough to be
painful—as well as effectively preventing her from
squeezing her thighs together to protect her pussy. Also,
Grace was embracing her box-tied upper body with her right arm
and snuggling close. Oh-by-the way, Grace was using the
buzzing torpedo in her left hand to conduct a thorough
exploration of her breasts... and pointing nipples. Bound
as she was, and with Grace as strong as she was... resistance
The titillating massage continued—"Mrrrrr"—the rounded head of
the vibrator began sliding down June's torso... tracing a
sinusoidal path to her bellybutton... then continuing towards
her pubic bush. "Mrrr!" June complained (moaned).
"Quiet, darling," Grace purred, then used the vibrator to tease
June's left thigh... right thigh... then the area directly above
her glistening pussy. "I can tell you're going to take a
lot of training." She began sliding the vibrator against
June's labia. "Either that, or I'll have to start
employing the more effective gags in my collection."
"Mrrrrrrr." June could tell that she was going to cum...
soon... very soon... but then Grace resumed teasing the
area around her pussy, but not her pussy proper.
"I said quiet," Grace chuckled. "We're going to take our
June struggled in her mentor's (lover's) grip.
"Mrrrf!" And this time her complaint was unmistakably
"Oh, you don't want to take things slow?" Grace
purred. "You want me to make you cum like a rutting bunny
right now?" She eased the vibrator from between
June's quivering thighs and let it slide across her flushed
labia, once, then returned the buzzing shaft to her lower tummy.
"Mrrr!" June shivered in arousal, and frustration.
"Too bad, darling," Grace chuckled. "I like being in
control, remember? And that includes your greedy pussy and
its appetite for orgasms."
Bound, gagged, and helpless in the embrace of her mentor, June
shivered and squirmed. It was torture... a torture
she very much hoped would eventually lead to a crashing orgasm...
possibly a crashing multiple orgasm... but not now...
not at this particular moment. Grace was in control.
"I told you to hush," Grace purred, then kissed her quivering
protege's left ear. She returned the vibrator to June's
pussy... varied the pressure... then eased it away to tease her
"Mrrrk!" She's good at this, June noted with what
was left of her consciousness. Most of June's mind was
occupied by the demands of her hind-brain to CUM! She's
good with the ropes, and she's good at playing my pussy like a
frakkin' Stradivarius. She's... experienced. What
have I gotten myself into?
By the time
morning arrived, June had decided she'd gotten herself into
something that was quite wonderful!
She awoke alone in Grace's bed. Her red rope box-tie,
ventilated ball-gag, and red ribbon ankle-feet-toes-tie were
gone, the various restrictive elements nowhere to be seen among
the tangle of high-thread-count sheets. Obviously, Grace
had freed her from her bonds during the night, after she'd
passed out from multi-orgasmic overload. Three?
June wasn't at all sure how many distinct orgasms Grace had
conjured from her bound and gagged body with her Magic
Torpedo. At least three, she decided.
June realized the shower was running. The water music may
have been what had woken her up. June needed a
shower. She'd needed one before being introduced to
Grace's Magic Torpedo, and she really needed one
now. Also, she needed to tinkle. June sat up, heaved
a deep yawn, stretched, extricated herself from the sheets, and
padded into the bathroom.
June sat on the commode and emptied her bladder, then went to
the sink and splashed water on her face. Meanwhile, she
noted that Grace was in the shower, soaping, scrubbing, and
rinsing her incredible body, something June found to be not at
all distracting. Actually, that thrill was back, once
again rippling through her pussy. But, no, June
decided, Grace's nude, wet, soapy body is not at all distracting.
The shower in question was a large, deep alcove completely clad
in glazed tiles—ceiling, floor, and all three walls. A
huge showerhead, the biggest showerhead June had ever seen, was
raining a pulsing torrent down onto Grace's body. Plenty
of room for two, June decided, padded into the alcove, and
joined her mentor under the blessedly hot water.
Grace smiled, then pulled June into a welcoming, good morning
hug. June returned the hug, and they kissed. By this
time, of course, June was just as wet as her mentor. The
kiss was also wet.
"Enough," Grace chuckled, then released the embrace.
"Ya sure?" June purred, and kissed Grace, again.
Grace returned the kiss, then pushed her protege away.
"Get ready for the day, including that rat's nest you call your
hair, then meet me in the bedroom."
"Yes, Mistress," June chuckled.
"Mentor, protege," Grace intoned as she stepped from
under the stream and began drying herself with a huge
towel. "Ten demerits."
June watched as Grace dried her body, then began toweling her
hair. "I've been meaning to ask," June purred. "How
do I redeem all those demerits? With orgasms? And
what's the exchange rate? Ten to one? And by that I
mean ten orgasms for each demerit?"
Grace continued drying her hair. "I suppose I
could require you to give me ten orgasms per demerit." she
June found the liquid soap dispenser attached to the wall and
pumped a generous dollop into her hands. "I was thinking
you would be the one giving me orgasms," she replied,
"ten to one. How else will I learn?"
"Well, you are something of a slow student," Grace
chuckled, then began using a comb and blow-dryer to continue
drying her hair. She had to shout to be heard over the
whirring noise. "Actually, the exchange rate is ten blows
with the lash, crop, or paddle for every demerit!"
June's cheeks dimpled in a coy smile. Grace was kidding,
of course. "What about your promise that you'd never hurt
"My promise was not to harm you, protege!" Grace
countered. "Pay attention! Words matter! As a
writer, you should already know that! As I implied
earlier, I abhor the sight of blood; but I quite enjoy the sight
of pink, freshly flogged, whipped, or spanked skin!"
June tried to think of a snappy comeback, but failed. She
wouldn't really flog me, would she? "Whatever."
By this time, Grace had finished with the dryer and was brushing
her honey-blond tresses. Shouting was no longer
necessary. "Hurry up in there," she admonished, then
turned and padded from the bathroom.
Wow, June thought as she completed rinsing her body and
hair. I never thought about that stuff.
She imagined herself standing on her tiptoes, spreadeagled in
chains, and being whipped by Grace. That would be...
terrible... I suppose. Of course, it would be Grace
doing the whipping, and Grace abhorred blood, an issue with
which June was in complete agreement. So... it would
be terrible... and new.
It took June a few minutes to dry her body and hair, especially
her hair. She padded into the bedroom just in time to see
Grace striding from the walk-in closet, fully dressed and ready
for the day.
June smiled. Her mentor was wearing a pair of exquisitely
tasteful and no doubt hideously expensive high-heel pumps and a
sleeveless summer dress with a scoop neckline. The heels
were blue and the dress blue and black in a pattern that vaguely
evoked the stripes of a zebra or tiger. The ensemble was
beautiful, and so was Grace.
Grace was stunning. June very nearly earned herself ten
more demerits (100 lashes?) by prefacing her next words with the
forbidden alleged word. Uh... "I'll get
dressed and meet you in the kitchen." She turned to make
"Stop!" Grace commanded, and June froze. Grace walked a
slow circle around her naked protege. "You have a very
nice body, June," she purred, "and I've decided I enjoy looking
at it. From now on, you will wear clothing only when I
order you to do so. I've already ordered you a new pair of
toe running shoes, and when they arrive, they will be your
complete running costume."
"T-toe running shoes?" June stammered.
"Like mine," Grace confirmed. "Also called
barefoot-runners or Hobbit-runners. They have minimal arch
support but good sole protection. They do take some
getting used to, but our species evolved running barefoot.
Toe-runners are the healthiest way to treat your feet."
Grace's smile widened. "You're very pretty when you
blush. Did you know that?"
June was blushing. She was also trying not to
pout, and didn't think she was succeeding. She continued
blushing and staring straight ahead. Her hands squeezed
into tight fists at her sides as Grace walked another circle
around her nude body.
"Also," Grace pronounced, "you're to sunbathe every day, weather
permitting. I require you to develop a uniform tan as
quickly as safety permits, while using moisturizing sunscreen,
of course. Do you understand?"
"Yes... Mentor." June had almost said "Mistress," but had
caught herself in time. She had no idea why she was being
this... subservient... but somehow, it felt right.
June watched as Grace retrieved the red rope that had been her
box-tie bonds from the floor beside the bed, as well as the
ball-gag. The rope was now neatly coiled. June
assumed her mentor had accomplished that task while she was
"To the kitchen," Grace ordered.
June exited the bedroom, naked and still blushing (just a
little). Grace was right behind, very much not naked
and with the coil of red rope and the ball-gag in her left hand.
"You can start cleaning up after last night's supper while I
tidy up the Yoga Studio," Grace said, then peeled off in the
direction of the studio in question, the scene of yesterday
June heaved a sigh as she continued to the kitchen. "So,"
she muttered to herself, "now I'm Grace's protege and her
naked scullery maid." She entered the kitchen and surveyed
the dirty plate, used knife, fork, and spoon, dirty wine glass,
and the saute pan, bowls, utensils, and baking dish that had
been required to prepare and serve last night's excellent
stuffed baked potatoes. Well, she thought, I
suppose somebody's got to do it.
June heaved another sigh, then set to work. The sooner the
kitchen was clean, the sooner she could dirty it again cooking
breakfast. It was a safe bet that Grace was going to start
making her cook as well as clean.
Her Grace's Protege and Naked Servant pondered the topic of
subservience as she loaded the dishwasher, located the cache of
soap/softener gel-pacs, loaded one into the appropriate slot,
closed and latched the door, and tapped the "ON" button.
Why the hell am I being... subserviant? June
pondered. It wasn't her usual style, not at all her
style. June was easygoing, all her friends said so, but
she was nobody's doormat. Nor was she needy and
demanding. But the game she was playing with Grace was
something new... virgin territory... so to speak.
As the dishwasher hummed, June cleaned the saute pan by hand,
then returned it to the cooktop. I suppose I can think
of it as another 'Exercise,' she decided as she wiped down
the island, a long term exercise. I can
always wimp out if it gets to be too much... when I'm not
bound and gagged, of course... and no way Grace will keep me
bound and gagged all the time.
The now familiar thrill rippled between June's legs,
again. It's worth a try. After what she did to me
last night, it's certainly worth a try.