by Van © 2020
Three months into Skye's apprenticeship...
Despite the endless drudgery
of Skye's Dominatrix Apprenticeship, despite Pallavi's demanding
duties as a newly promoted Assistant Manager, and despite
Harper's grueling hours as a shop girl, on occasion the girl's
found the time (meaning made the time) to indulge their
friends-with-Top/Bottom-privileges relationship. One fine
day, on one of those rare occasions when the gods smiled and all
three of their schedules synced up... they did.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Lacey's Lair ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pallavi was impressed. Skye was wearing one of her new
"role-playing costumes." Pallavi, on the other hand, was
naked and tied up. Specifically, her arms were folded and
lashed behind her back with her upper arms pinned to her sides
in a classic box-tie. And the box-tie was of the "mean"
variety, with her wrists crossed and raised above the
horizontal. She was also wearing a ball-gag, but it was
around her neck in necklace-mode, which meant she was able to
share her opinion of Skye's ensemble.
"Nice threads," Pallavi observed. "I'm impressed."
Skye grinned. "I call this my Dominatrix-One-Point-Oh
outfit," she explained, striking a pose. The outfit in
question was comprised of high-heel, lace-up-the-front
knee-boots—skintight tights—wrist/forearm bracers—and a very
French-cut "playsuit," a strapless combination corset,
bikini-bottom, and support bra. Everything was
black. The boots, bracers, and playsuit were leather, and
the tights were cotton-spandex. Skye was also wearing a
black leather collar with cute little steel studs. Mustn't
forget the collar! Her ginger hair was in a
topknot-ponytail and the end bobbed behind her head. And
there was significant freckled cleavage bulging above
the top of the playsuit's nearly inadequate cups.
"Wicked-sexy," Pallavi amended her opinion.
Skye disagreed. Mistress had a dozen more elaborate,
stylish, and very kinky uniforms in her walk-in
closet, all of which were truly wicked-sexy.
"This is cobbled together from off-the-rack items and is merely
'sexy.' Granted the playsuit's a little, uh, unusual,
but it's still off-the-rack. You just need to know where
to find the right rack."
Harper agreed with Pallavi, but at the moment a super-tight
panel-ball-gag was plugging her mouth and pressing against her
lips, and it most emphatically was not in
necklace-mode. She was unable to share her opinion.
In fact, her ability to make any sort of verbal noise was
severely curtailed. Like Pallavi, Harper was naked;
however, rather than being box-tied, she was lying on her back
on the rack of Mistress Monjeau's super-scary Torture Chamber
with her bare feet trapped in the device's insidious stocks and
her wrists buckled in wide, well-padded, suspension-style
leather cuffs linked to the rack's drum and winch. And
Skye (her supposed friend) had tightened the rack to the level
of Dramatic Distress (but short of actual pain).
"What else ya got?" Pallavi inquired.
Skye realized her BFF was referring to her growing collection of
"working uniforms" in the closet of her current sleeping
chamber, the bedroom down the hall from Mistress' master
bedroom. "Let's see... Candy-Striper I already told
you guys about." She started ticking off her remaining
professional wardrobe on the fingers of her left hand.
"SSG, S-J-SG, SM, CG, SW, and... That's about it
Pallavi raised an eyebrow. The acronyms (assuming they were
acronyms) meant nothing to her.
Skye laughed. "Okay, okay..." She ticked her
fingers, again. "Sexy School Girl, which is more or less a
Hogwarts uniform—Sexy Japanese School Girl, one of
those cute little sailor-suits—Sexy Maid, in the traditional
black and white, of course, with lots of frilly lace and a
super-short skirt—Cat Girl—and Sexy Witch."
"More or less this outfit..." Skye indicated her current
attire with a graceful gesture. "...but with black opera
gloves, a long, furry black tail in the back, and a head-band
with furry cat-ears. Think Sexy Catwoman costume."
"'That's redundant," Pallavi purred. "Catwoman is always
"It goes without saying," Skye agreed. "And yet, I said
it. Anyway, my Catgirl is Mistress' homage to
anime, not DC Comics."
Pallavi grinned. "And Japanese School Girl isn't
"Whatever," Skye shrugged. "Anyway, Mistress and I are
currently collaborating on a design for a Medieval Female
Once again, Pallavi cocked an eyebrow. "Medieval Female
"Think Disney Princess Merida from Brave
crossed with Robin Hood's Maid Marion," Skye amplified.
"Mistress doesn't go in for a lot of costume
melodrama. Where would it end? But she does think
I'd look good as a 'boy' member of Robin's Merry Band. By
the way, there are some really good cos-play costume vendors
online. Anyway, enough chit-chat." She focused on
Harper and the rack. "On with the show."
This was the girls' third time borrowing Mistress' Torture
Chamber so Skye could show off her rapidly expanding skill
set. Mistress didn't mind, as long as the chamber hadn't
been previously booked, they left everything where they found
it, and cleaned up any bodily fluids. Needless to say,
Pallavi and Harper had been very impressed on their
first visit, the way Skye had been impressed on her first
Trip One had been an hour-long tour, with Pallavi and Harper
naked, box-tied, and padding along on rope leashes, the ends of
which were in Skye's right hand. Apprentice Gilroy had
been wearing "civies," meaning sneakers, shorts, and a white
tank-top. She led her wide-eyed, terrified, very impressed
guests/prisoners from device to device, explaining the proper
use of each of the furnishings/torture-engines in full detail,
but not actually using any of it on her friends.
A picnic lunch in Mistress' backyard followed, with Skye feeding
a still naked and bound Pallavi and Mistress (wearing jeans and
a blouse, like her apprentice) feeding a naked and bound Harper.
Trip Two found Pallavi and Harper naked (of course), with
Pallavi locked in the pillory, bent at the waist with her neck
and wrists in the appropriate openings, and Harper strapped to
the St. Andrew's Cross in a standing spread-eagle. Skye
then announced she was going to leave them to contemplate their
sinister surroundings for two full hours! As would
be expected, they complained bitterly, but twin
ball-gags kept the noise to an inarticulate minimum. A
full hour later (not two)... the pathetic prisoners were
released and enjoyed a long, post-languishing recuperative bask
in Mistress' dry sauna, along with their hostess/torturer.
This, in turn, was followed by a very pleasant dinner in
Mistress' dining room. Skye, Pallavi, and Harper remained
naked, but Mistress felt motivated to show off and wore a truly
gorgeous, full-length, formal gown of velvety-black, shirred
silk. The girls agreed that Mistress was absolutely
gorgeous! It was an evening to remember.
And this was Trip Three... and Skye had plans.
"Now," Skye said with a coy smile, "you guys know a lot more
goes on down here than people getting tied up, chained up, or
strapped to something and left to languish, right?"
"Uh, yeah," Pallavi acknowledged (nervously).
Harper blinked her big blue eyes a few times, then nodded.
Her friends took that as a "yes."
"Well..." Skye's smile turned from coy to evil.
"This time, let's do something a little more active,
"What something?" Pallavi demanded with a frown. She's
not gonna torture us, is she? No, of course
not! Then, Pallavi's eyes widened as the probable
truth dawned. She wants to do... stuff to
us! Truth be told, Pallavi's "shock" was less than
genuine, but she had to play her part in the melodrama. "No!"
Harper tugged on her wrist-bonds (as best she could), squirmed
on the rack, and her blue eyes popped even wider. Her
friends took that as a "no."
"You don't even know what I have planned," Skye chuckled.
"I don't need to know," Pallavi huffed. "We don't
need to know. The answer is no!" You're
bein'... evil!" Over the top? Yes.
Pallavi chalked it up to the unsettling setting of the Torture
Still smiling, Skye strolled to a nearby rope rack, selected two
dangling coils of hemp rope, and returned. "Kneel," she
ordered, pointing to a burlap-covered cushion resting on the
tiled floor at the foot of the rack.
"Why?" Pallavi demanded (whined), but knelt on the cushion as
With deft competence, Skye had crossed Pallavi's ankles, and was
now using one of coils to lash them together and link
them to the back of her box-tie, crafting a loose, kneeling
hogtie. She then looped the second coil around Pallavi's
neck, under her hair, twice, tied a non-compacting knot, then
tied the other end through a conveniently placed iron ring set
in the foot end of the rack.
Pallavi found herself naked, kneeling in a hogtie, tethered by
the neck, and staring at Harper's bare feet, inches from her
nose and trapped in the heavy wooden stocks. She was
grateful for the cushion under her knees, and for the
significant slack in the hogtie and leash; but, understandably,
Meanwhile, Skye had taken a step back and was standing with her
hands on her hips and a somewhat disturbing smile
curling her lips. She was the very picture of a gloating
villainess, in the opinion of her captive audience of two.
"Now, best-friend-o'mine," Skye addressed Pallavi, "I want you
to lick the soles of my other best friend's feet and
suck on her toes. We already know she's ticklish, but
this is our chance to determine exactly how
ticklish. Mistress calls this sort of fun 'foot
worship.' I don't see the attraction, personally, but
then, I won't be the one doing the licking and sucking."
Pallavi stared at her villainous BFF in horror. "Are you
insane? Lick her feet?" She turned and stared
at the feet in question, then turned her horrified gaze back to
Skye. "Gross! They're dirty! You made us walk
down here naked and tied up and... they're dirty!"
"If you do a good job," Skye purred, "they won't be dirty for
"This is mean!" Pallavi complained.
On the rack, Harper lifted her head and nodded
emphatically. "Mrrr!" Her friends took that as a
Pallavi turned her pouting face back towards the rack (and
Harper's waiting feet). Over the top of the stocks she
could see her fellow captive's gagged and horrified face.
By the way, Pallavi could also see Harper's pussy,
dark-blond pubic bush, flat tummy, and boobs, and she noted that
her friend's nipples were pointing. Obviously, they were
worried. Pallavi realized her own nipples were also
pointing, and mentally ordered them to stop. They
Meanwhile, Skye had strolled to the Torture Chamber's extensive
collection of whips, floggers, canes, paddles, etc., and was
returning with a black leather riding crop. She resumed
her former wide-legged, gloating stance, then gave her left palm
a demonstrative smack with the business-end of the
crop. "Ow!" she winced, fluttering her left hand.
She then let the crop dangle by its safety-strap and rubbed her
palms together. "That smarts." Her smile returned
and she locked eyes with her BFF. "Don't make me
use this thing on your big butt." She nodded towards an
ominous piece of wooden furniture off in the corner.
"Or... would you rather ride Mistress' horse for a couple of
Pallavi turned her horrified head and stared at the torture
device in question. Straddling the horse's wedge-shaped
business-end with her pussy taking her full weight would not
be fun... which, of course, was why it was called a torture
device. She knew Skye was just being, uh, theatrical,
but still... Riding the horse couldn't be that bad,
could it? she mused. Not for a few minutes,
anyway. She shifted her gaze back to the fluttering
end of the riding crop... then locked eyes with her BFF.
"You're really gonna make me lick her gross, smelly
feet and stinky toes?" Pallavi muttered.
"Well, when you put it that way," Skye smiled, "yes. It's
my homework assignment from Mistress. She thinks you guys
are ready for this sort of thing, by the way, and having you
available as training aids will expedite my progress."
Pallavi's pout was heartbreakingly pathetic (and incredibly
cute, in Skye's opinion). "If I get toe-jam stuck between
my teeth I'm sending you the dental hygienist's bill."
"Mistress will write it off as a business expense," Skye
chuckled, then motioned with the riding crop.
"Chop-chop! Lick-lick! If your mouth gets dry, I
have an ice-cold bottle of spring water in that Yeti-brand
cooler over by the door."
Pallavi sighed, leaned close to Harper's left foot, wet her
pouting lips with her apprehensive tongue... sighed again... and
set to work.
"Nrrrrr!" Harper squealed in response, squirming her feet
and wiggling her toes. That made them moving targets, but
Pallavi's nimble tongue persevered.
Skye watched the delightfully mischievous tableau she'd crafted
for several long, wet, slobbery seconds... then heaved a very
self-satisfied sigh. "It's good to be the Dominatrix,"
Two Moms, a Domme, & a Maid
A week after "The Heinous
Foot-Licking Incident" down in the Torture Chamber, Lacey
invited her good friends Jodi Gilroy and Kanoa Anuhea over to
her lair to spend the day.
At the moment, Lacey and her guests were completing a long,
invigorating session of nude power-yoga out on the grass out in
the backyard. It was a cloudless day, but the sun was only
now starting to clear the tops of the cedar border, so
they were still enjoying dappled shade... but not for long.
"And... we're done," Lacey announced. The yogis relaxed
from their final pose.
The trio were all in excellent shape, but the routine had been
challenging and they were sweating and breathing heavily (a
little), and their naked forms were flushed. It was most
noticeable on Lacey, with her fair complexion, and least
noticeable on Kanoa, with her all-over tan. They padded
across the lawn to the deck, Lacey handed out towels, they gave
themselves brisk rubdowns... then settled onto the soft cushions
of three of the four cast iron chairs grouped around a round
With perfect timing (and because she'd been watching from the
kitchen window), the kitchen door opened and Skye appeared,
carrying a lacquered tray with a very pretty
traditional Japanese tea set.
Oh by the way, Skye was the only person on the deck not wearing
her birthday suit. Much to her pouting displeasure,
Mistress had ordered her apprentice to model one of her
Dominatrix Uniforms for the duration of her mothers'
visit. Specifically, it was her Sexy Maid outfit, which
Skye didn't find to be at all humiliating. It
Panties, but no bra.
white, frilly "cap" with cute little decorative black ribbons on
either end. It was actually a hairband with the cap
traditional black and white dress with short, puffy sleeves and
a tight waist. It was hemmed mini-skirt short, and
included crinoline underskirts. Somewhat surprisingly, the
lace-lined, scoop neckline revealed only a peek of cleavage, but
that was by design. Mistress' stated goal was for Skye to
be "cute and sexy, but not slutty."
frilly white apron decorated with black buttons and a pair of
cute little black bows that evoked the bows on the cap.
pair of white stockings held up by black-and white lace garters,
each with a white lace rosette and yet another cute little black
pair of black, high-heel pumps. Skye also also had a pair
of black Sketchers back in the closet, for working occasions,
but this was a special occasion, hence the less
comfortable but more decorative pumps.
It was humiliating!
Skye knew her moms would gush about how cute she
looked (and they did) and Mistress would grin and enjoy her
discomfiture (and she did), so she'd complained bitterly when
Mistress ordered her to maidify herself.
This was insubordination, of course, so Mistress accessorized
her maid/apprentice with disciplinary jewelry in the form of a
complete set of shiny steel "slave chains," in the form of a
collar, manacles, and shackles, all interconnected by clinking,
clattering chains. Everything was reasonably heavy, but
the chains afforded sufficient slack to allow a surly maid (like
Skye) to be punished without significantly impeding her ability
to perform domestic drudgery... or most drudgery, anyway.
High dusting would be iffy at best. Luckily for Skye, the
onerous chains were only a mildly irritating inconvenience when
it came to preparing and serving tea.
Skye's moms had already seen their darling daughter in her
servile outfit, but still felt it necessary to repeat their
gushing delight at her " adorable" and "delightful"
appearance. Mistress also repeated her gloating smile,
adding to Skye's undeserved abasement.
Skye carried the tea service to the table, carefully set it
down, then paused to consider protocol. Normally, Mistress
would have precedence, but her moms were Mistress' guests, so
should they be served first? She decided it was
best to wait for guidance.
Mistress sensed Skye's dilemma. "Serve your mothers first,
darling," she ordered.
"Yes, Mistress," Skye responded quietly, executing a chained
curtsey. (Either that or she muttered "Bite me," but it
had probably been "Yes, Mistress.")
It was green tea, the perfect après yoga beverage. Skye's
mothers smiled sweetly as their darling daughter,
dominatrix-in-training, and cute-little-captive-maid did the
honors. Skye poured a third cup for Mistress, eyed the
fourth, presently empty cup on the tray, then turned and batted
her eyes at mistress, a pathetic little pout on her pursed
lips. Upping the ante, she gave a lingering glance of
longing at the fourth, presently empty chair at the table...
then back to Mistress, continuing to pout in a pitiable manner.
"Silly girl." Mistress purred, "stop sulking." She
gestured towards her lap with a graceful flip of the
wrist. "You can share my cup."
Skye nearly looked to her moms for support, but stopped herself
in time. Sitting in Mistress' lap in front of her maternal
units was embarrassing, but at least she wasn't naked.
Mistress and her Moms were naked, but she wasn't naked,
so instead of embarrassing it was only... mortifying?
Anyway, Skye settled onto Mistress' firm, smooth lap (squirming
a little to achieve a proper seat), then accepted a sip of
delicious green tea from Mistress' cup.
Mistress held out her cup to be refilled by Skye's biological
mom... enjoyed a sip of her own, then set the cup down on the
table. Her smile brightened, she hugged her
apprentice/maid, and planted a kiss on her frowning mouth.
Skye squirmed and tugged on her chains in response.
"Mistress! Please!" she whined.
"Don't be whiny, young lady," Jodi chided her daughter.
"Nobody likes a petulant maid," Kanoa added, and all three
bare-naked ladies chuckled.
Skye did not chuckle. She glowered at
her moms (but not Mistress).
Meanwhile, Mistress was smiling at her naked guests.
"Skye," she purred, her trademark coy smile curling her lips, "I
believe you're aware that both of your mothers
are my clients, are you not?"
Jodi and Kanoa blushed like the proverbial schoolgirls, then glared
at Mistress. (Skye, however, did not glare at
Skye heart was pounding and she had to remind herself that
breathing was a good thing. Then, she regained a modicum
of composure and rounded on her Mistress. "That
was uncalled for!"
Mistress was still enjoying Jodi and Kanoa's poorly concealed
mortification. "Mind your manners, darling," she cautioned
Skye continued sulking. "Yes, I'm aware they're your
clients," she huffed. "But why do you have to bring it
up?" She squirmed in Mistress' lap. "It's... yucky."
Mistress laughed. Jodi and Kanoa did not.
"I brought it up to reassure you," Mistress continued.
"Also, I want you to know I will never require you to
observe any of their sessions, nor will I require your
"Ya think?" Skye shuddered, then belatedly added "Mistress?"
"In fact," Mistress added, "when your mothers do have
sessions, I'll make sure you aren't even aware that they're on
"Thank you, Mistress," Skye muttered, her lips still pursed in a
pouting frown. Then, her green eyes widened.
"Wait. You're not gonna start locking me in the Special
Guest Bedroom again, are you?"
"No, dear," Mistress chuckled. "I'll make sure you're
locked away elsewhere. I have several hidden
chambers I haven't yet shown you."
"Oh, in that case..." Skye heaved a sigh, rolled her eyes,
and rested her head on Mistress' right breast.
"We thought it was important you should know, Honeybunch,"
Mother Gilroy explained, smiling at her daughter.
"So you won't worry about being involved," Mother Anuhea added.
Both mothers smiled and nodded.
Mistress smiled, then took a sip of tea and held the cup so her
apprentice could also take a sip. "When the tea is gone,
we'll adjourn to the sauna," she purred, then gave Skye a
hug. "And you can get on with your housekeeping chores."
Skye heaved a sigh, then clinked and clattered off Mistress' lap
and to her shackled, high-heel-clad feet. "In that case,"
she sighed, "I better go turn on the sauna... Mistress."
She leaned close and kissed her biological mother on her smiling
lips... then clinked and clattered to her non-biological mother
and kissed her on her smiling lips. "Later," she
sighed, then shuffled to the kitchen door.
So... Skye mused, shaking her head and shuddering, no
need to worry about stumbling across one or both of my
maternal units naked, bound, gagged and in some hideous
predicament. What a relief.
The three naked mature/elderly beauties at the cafe table
watched the maid-in-chains depart.
"Delightful," Lacey purred. Jodi and Kanoa smiled and
nodded in agreement.
Two Dommes & a Flogger
Six months into Skye's
apprenticeship, Mistress shutdown her Lifestyle Consulting
Services business for a week and ordered the adorable/delightful
ginger to "Go home!"
Why? In Mistress opinion (the only one that mattered),
Skye had earned a brief vacation and Mistress Monjeau had
important business elsewhere. Towards that end, Lacey was
spending seven days at Roxanne Vos' spacious, Mid-Century Modern
ranch house (and Lifestyle Consulting Services business).
It was only a thirty minute drive from Lacey's own lair.
At the moment, Lacey was in a cell in Roxy's basement (meaning
Lacey insisted on a tasteful, understated decor in her working
spaces, but Roxy believed things should be a tad more...
traditional. Towards that end, years before, when Skye's
"Viking Queen" had subdivided her large basement into a
labyrinth, she'd specified the use of rough-faced, interlocking
concrete blocks, the kind usually used for rustic retaining
walls. Concrete flags covered the floors, and heavy wooden
doors with "hand-forged" hardware were used
throughout. She topped it all off with "hand-forged"
iron rings set in the walls and ceiling—added iron manacles,
shackles, and collars—furnished the cells with "historical
reproductions" of the usual racks, horses, pillories, etc.,
etc.—and the illusion was complete.
It took very little suspension-of-disbelief for Roxy's clients
to believe they were the prisoners of a Viking Queen, Medieval
Baroness, or Victorian Lady who'd inherited a fully equipped
dungeon from some villainous ancestor—especially when Roxy was
decked out in the appropriate costume.
Lacey's tastes might be different, but she was impressed with
Roxy's efforts and had told her so on many occasions. At
the moment, however, showering compliments on her hostess was
not an option because, at the moment, Mistress Monjeau was bound
and gagged Prisoner Monjeau. By way of details,
● Naked. Nude. Starkers.
Topless and bottomless. No clothes. Not
even a stitch. Ready to skinny-dip.
Oh-by-the-way, Lacey's nipples were clamped in "hand-forged"
metal clips and linked to a taut, lightweight chain that, in
turn, was linked to an ingenious (and insidious)
medieval-looking device. It was a tall wooden framework
that supported a pulley, a wire basket, a skull-sized,
water-rounded rock wrapped in iron bands, and a complicated
series of nested brass gears. Cutting to the chase, the
thin chain attached to the nipple-clamps passed through the
pulley and geared mechanism, and supported the dangling,
iron-banded rock! Lucky for Lacey, however, the weight of
the rock was counteracted by a wire basket filled with just
enough quantity of ice cubes to equal the weight of the
rock. Ingenious indeed!
● Up on her toes with her wrists in fleece-lined
manacles, her ankles in fleece-lined shackles, and taut chains
linking her to the ceiling and floor in a very stringent
● Gagged by a wooden bit wrapped in leather and secured
with a strap and buckle at the nape of her neck and under her
tousled, raven-black hair.
● And finally, she was missing Roxy, who had abandoned
her to languish in her cruel predicament.
However... ice melts! Especially in a stifling hot dungeon
The ice was melting into a wooden bucket resting on the
floor. And with every drip... drip... drip... into
the bucket, the tug of the clamps on Lacey's nipples slooowly
increased! Also, the arrangement provided a strong
disincentive to squirm, struggle, or shift her
weight. Drip... drip... drip... Her nipples
were already beginning to stretch and her breasts were ever-less
globe-like and more cone-like.
Drip... drip... drip...
Fortunately, Lacey knew the mechanism had a hidden
feature. A spring-loaded clamp would lock the chain in
place when a preset tension was achieved. Roxy had
explained the workings of the device during a previous visit
(and Lacey had promptly ordered a similar, more modern-looking
version of the "Nipple Stretching Rack" for her own dungeon).
Unfortunately, Lacey didn't know exactly where on the
scale from Ow! to EYOW! Roxy had set the the
mechanism's governor/regulator. Lacey didn't know exactly
how far her nipples and boobs would be stretched before
the gears locked.
Drip... drip... drip...
The ice cubes weren't the only things dripping, by the
way. The air in the cell truly was stifling (a little),
and Lacey's pale, perfect, pinioned physique glistened with
Just then, the cell door creaked open and Roxy returned
to the scene of her crime—and she'd changed into one of her
costumes: a pair of brown leather boots, a linen miniskirt/kilt,
and a brown leather corset/bustier. She was showing a
lot of firm, tan skin, and her long blond hair was parted
down the middle and plaited into a pair of Viking braids, the
ends of which were bound with brown leather thongs.
Between her strong, tan thighs—strong, tan arms—significant tan
cleavage—and general medieval appearance, Roxy was looking very
hot... if you're into gorgeous barbarian women who hold
your naked, bound, and gagged fate in their cruel hands.
"Miss me?" Roxy quipped, blue eyes sparkling and a wicked smile
curling her luscious lips. By the way, a brown leather
flogger with a braided handle and twenty or more long, thin,
ribbon-like thongs was in her right hand.
Drip... drip... drip...
Lacey nodded at the Nipple Stretching Rack mechanism.
"Don't have a cow," Roxy chuckled as she strolled to the
mechanism in question. "This thing should have already
locked." She lifted the ice basket... and as a
consequence, the iron-bound rock did not drop and further
stretch Lacey's poor nipples and boobs. "There, see?" Roxy
purred. "Your girls are stretched as far as they're going
Lacey stared daggers at her barbaric hostess. Maybe the
damn thing had locked, but her boobs were disturbingly
conical, her nipples somewhat elongated, and she didn't like
it! "Mrrrf!" she huffed. Actually, Lacey's nips and
tits weren't really in distress (much), but it was the
principle of the thing.
"Such language," Roxy chuckled as she stepped forward and gazed
at the nips and tits in question. "Very pretty," she
purred, then locked eyes with her victim/guest. "As I
recall, 'very pretty' was your exact, stated opinion of
my boobage and pussy when you had me strapped
to your Mad Doctor Table down in your 'Bondage Clinic,' right
before you scurried off to fetch your adorable little
By the way, that was the main reason for Lacey's visit to her
colleague's domain, to give Roxy a chance for payback. It
was only fair. There was another reason as well.
"I've given your proposition careful thought," Roxy said, "and I
agree to be Skye's professional godmother."
Lacey smiled, meaning hideously grimaced around the
leather-covered bit cleaving her mouth. Roxy was agreeing
to participate in Skye's training, just as Lacey had requested!
"I realize you're not gonna let me play with her for at least a
year," Roxy grinned, "but that will give us plenty of time to
work out a joint training program.
Lacey nodded her gagged head. It was a good idea for an
apprentice to gain experience with more than one
dominatrix. Lacey, would always be Skye's Mistress, of
course, but periodic month-long visits to Roxy would further
widen the delightful/adorable ginger's horizons.
"Now," Roxy purred, "on with the retribution." She
transferred the flogger to her left hand, then smiled, reached
out with her right index finger... and gave the chain linking
Lacey's tits to the rock and ice mechanism a delicate, "playful"
Lacey winced in response, then glared at her
hostess/torturer. The tap hadn't really hurt, but
it had momentarily worsened her predicament.
Again, it was the principle of the thing. Lacey had
to glare at her hostess/torturer.
"You haven't yet introduced Skye to nipple-play, have you?" Roxy
Lacey shook her head (and continued glaring).
"I thought not," Roxy purred. "Hmm... I recently
ordered several new pairs of clover-clamps. Remind me to
gift-wrap a set for the little darling... either that or you can
wear them home."
Very funny, Lacey silently huffed as she watched Roxy
turn and stroll behind her stretched and spreadeagled form...
then stoically returned her gaze to the front. One partial
day of naked, helpless torment for poor Roxy... in exchange for
a full week of similar playtime for Lacey! A
steep bargain, indeed, but a deal was a deal.
The things I do for my apprentice, Lacey silently
lamented. Then... she heard the tails of Roxy's flogger
rattle together... there was a whistling sound... and her back exploded
in stinging pain!
|& the story entire...