by Van © 2020
			Chapter 7

"How does Chinese sound?" Lacey inquired.

"Huh?" Skye responded.

Earlier, Skye's hostess had dragged (led) her to her bedroom, released her from her black leather body-harness, box/kimono-tie-binder, fist-mitts, and highly effective panel-gag (with silicon-rubber foam stuffing and bite protectors); then ordered her to take a shower, more or less shoved her into the attached bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

Skye remembered staring at the back of the closed door for precisely seven heartbeats... then heaving a sigh and following her hostess' order by taking the ordained and mandatory shower.  Why not?  I need one.  Skye used a generous dollop of body-wash and a washcloth to soap and scrub her body, followed by a dab of shampoo to clean her tousled, slightly sweaty, ginger locks.  So, too many gallons of hot water later, Skye emerged from the oversized walk-in shower, squeaky clean from head to toe.  One large, fluffy towel and the use of a powerful hand-dryer later, and Skye was combing and brushing her hair and staring at her amazed face in the mirror mounted above the washbasin.

The face staring back was still unarguably attractive.  That is, the various gags Skye had worn from late-morning to the very recent past—the damsel-silencing components of her hostess' dominatrix demonstration—hadn't left any red marks or bruises in their wake.  Once she'd restored order to her also unarguably attractive ginger curls, she commenced a detailed inspection of the remainder of her freckled physique.  Remarkably, it too was bruise and mark free, including her much-abused big toes.  Lacey is really good, she thought as she finished her inspection.  On occasion, and despite her best efforts, Skye's bondage escapades had left very minor rope-burns or abrasions on her victims, for which she'd profusely apologized (and been forgiven).  But after all she'd been through today... nothing.  Wow!  Mistress is damn good!

Skye didn't bother wrapping the slightly damp towel around her torso.  (Why should she?)  She emerged from the bathroom just in time to face Lacey's smiling inquiry, the one having something to do with China.  "Huh?"

"I said," Lacey chuckled, "how does Chinese sound?  Chinese takeout?"

"Oh, food."  Skye was definitely pro-food, and she liked Chinese cuisine.

By the way, Lacey had changed out of her super-sexy and only technically modest dominatrix uniform and was back in the black silk robe she'd been wearing when she opened the front door and admitted Poor Innocent Skye Gilroy to her stylish Victorian lair.  Also, as far as Skye could tell, under the robe Lacey was as naked as Skye herself.  Also, Mistress Monjeau was sitting on her bed with her long, pale, strong legs crossed and uncovered by said robe.  Also, although the robe's belt was tightly cinched around her narrow waist, she was showing a great deal of pale, firm cleavage.  Finally, Lacey was using a small plastic spray-bottle to spritz a light mist on one of the fist-mitts... then using a light blue cloth to wipe it clean, inside and out.  The other mitt and the rest of Skye's former leather bondage ensemble were beside her on the bed, and by their gleaming appearance and orderly arrangement, Skye surmised they'd already been cleaned.

Anyway...  "Uh... yeah, Chinese sounds great."  Her eyes widened.  "Wait!  I-I need to go home.  Mom'll be worried."

"I phoned your mother and informed her that you'd be spending the night," Lacey purred as she set the now clean mitt on the bed next to its mate, then gracefully stood.

"You did?  I am?"  Skye was still distracted by Lacey's silk-clad pulchritude, especially her pale, bare feet... strong calves... the inner slopes of her boobs... her gorgeous (and possibly predatory) smile... and pale-blue eyes.

Lacey's smile widened.  "Of course you are, darling," she chuckled.  "A proper demonstration takes time."  She picked up one of the mitts.  "Give me your hand."

Skye presented her right hand, formed a fist, and watched as Lacey enveloped said fist with the mitt, then tightened and buckled its wrist-strap.  Lacey picked up the other mitt, Skye presented her left fist without prompting, and it too was enveloped.  Lacey then picked up the box-tie-binder, spun Sky around, and began the the process of buckling it in place.  A delicate shiver shuddered through Skye's body as the body-harness was added and her black leather bondage ensemble was restored... except for the gag.

Lacey spun Skye back around and they were once again face-to-face.  Still smiling, Lacey cupped her prisoner/guest's chin, leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Skye's lips.  "I know why you're letting me recapture you," Lacey purred.

That makes one of us, Skye thought, then swallowed and licked her lips.  "Okay, why?" she inquired in a near whisper.

"Curiosity," Lacey answered, then planted another kiss on Skye's lips.  "Your interest in rope and the various ways it can be used to tie up your friends is already well established, but this is a chance to expand your horizons.  You're curious, interested, inquisitive... and not afraid... not even a little."

Skye nodded.  Her heart was pounding again.  "I... I guess so."  Curious enough to let you recapture me... like you said... and I'm not afraid... but don't know why.

Lacey's smile widened, she draped an arm over Skye's shoulders, then led her towards the walk-in closet.

Skye looked back over one shoulder at the freshly cleaned panel-gag still on the bed.  It looks lonely, she mused as they crossed the threshold and entered the closet.

Skye gazed at the rack of conventional clothes on their right, some of which she remembered selling to Lacey back at Plumeria.  And on a somewhat shorter rack on their left hung what were obviously Lacey's dominatrix uniforms.  And next to the kinky black leather outfits hung a modest collection of gags, leather straps, neatly bundled coils of rope and cord, riding crops, floggers, and paddles, all in a neat row and dangling from wall-mounted hooks.  And the collection was "modest" only in comparison to the multitude of similar items downstairs in the Torture Chamber.

Lacey led her guest to the modest collection in question, then selected a ball-gag with a two-inch black mouth-stopper, leather strap, and gleaming steel hardware.  Her intention was obvious.

"Lacey!" Skye whined as her hostess spun her around—"Mrrrfh!"—reached over her head from both sides, thrust the ball into her sputtering mouth, then buckled the strap tight at the nape of her neck, under her ginger hair.  "Mrrrpfh!" Skye complained.  The ball was big—two inches, easy!—but it was also soft and and at least semi-pliant.  It wasn't foam, but it wasn't hard rubber either.  As gags went, it was... okay?  "Mrrrpfh!" Skye complained again.  Screw 'okay!'  I don't want to be gagged!  I've been gagged enough for one day!  Unfortunately, she was no longer in a position to express a coherent opinion.

"Hmm," Lacey purred as she gazed at the remaining items (and ignored her guest's minor tantrum).  "Decisions, decisions."

Skye watched with growing trepidation as Lacey selected a pair of semi-long, black leather, belt-like straps hanging among the other bondage paraphernalia and draped them over her shoulders.  She then opened a drawer in a built-in cabinet, took out a three-foot length of shiny, rattling steel chain and draped it over her shoulders as well, then pulled out a pair of brass padlocks and dropped them in the pocket of her robe.  Finally, she returned to the drawer and produced... a shiny steel collar with an attached steel ring!

Skye blinked in alarm.  It was pointless to complain—meaning squeal through her ball-gag—so she didn't.  It was also pointless to spin on her bare heels and sprint from the closet.  The closet door might be open, but she knew the bedroom door was not.  Also, Lacey was right there, smiling at her with the collar in her hands.  It would be a very short footrace.

As with the ball-gag, Lacey's intentions were obvious.  She locked the collar around Skye's neck, clicking its integrated brass padlock closed in the process.  Next, Lacey pulled one of the brass padlocks from her pocket and locked one end of the dangling chain to the collar's ring,  Then, using the chain like a leash (which wasn't at all humiliating), she took her naked, bound, and gagged young guest for a very short walk to the gigantic mirror filling most of the back wall of the closet.

Skye stared at her reflection in the mirror, then gasped through her gag.  Urf!  Lacey had reached to the side, touched the mirror's frame, and the entire thing had swung open like a thick door—because it was a thick door—and it was glass on both sides!  And once Lacey led Skye into the cramped space beyond, and despite the extreme angle of the open mirror-door, Skye found she could see through the mirror-door and into the main closet.  Obviously, the outer layer was one-way glass and the inner glass was, uh, glass.  Also...  Wow!  Another secret door!  But while the rumbling, sliding wall/secret door down in the basement led to an entire dungeon complex, the one-way mirror/secret door in the closet led to a six-foot by six-foot cell with a ten-foot ceiling and a carpeted floor.  Also, various steel rings were embedded in the ceiling, floor, and walls at various heights.  Wow!

Lacey encouraged (meaning gently forced) her amazed, naked, bound, and gagged young guest to kneel... then plop down on her butt on the cell's plush carpet.

Skye watched with continued amazement (and keen self interest) as Lacey folded her left leg until her heel nudged her upper thigh, then wrapped one of the black leather straps around her shin and thigh and buckled it tight, tight enough to dimple her skin.  Skye's right leg, thigh, and shin received similar treatment, and Skye was... frog-strapped?  Anyway, her legs were now permanently folded in the classic frog-tie position, enforced by black leather.  Lacey then used her remaining padlock to lock the far end of the chain attached to Skye's shiny new collar to a steel ring embedded in the center of the carpeted floor.  She then stood, padded two steps back, and stood in the threshold of the open secret-mirror-door.

Lacey smiled down at her incredibly adorable prisoner.

Skye blinked her green eyes and stared up at her sinister/gorgeous hostess/captor.

"Wait here," Lacey purred, then swung the door closed.

The door's latch mechanism engaged with an authoritative click.  The light fixture embedded in the ceiling directly over Skye's head was off, but similar fixtures in the main closet were on, and even though the closet-side glass of the portal was reflective, adequate light was making its way into Skye's cell.  Wow! she thought, again.  This is cool!  A secret alcove where the prisoner can see out, but is completely hidden!  Wow!  I wish I had a bigger closet back home.  I could do something like this... maybe.  It would be expensive, but...  Wow!

The collar was heavy, but not too heavy.  Also, it was tight but not too tight, the inside was smooth, as smooth as the outside, and all of the edges, inside and out, were slightly rounded.  And... she was chained by the neck!  Like in a real dungeon!  Wow!

Meanwhile, on the far side of the double-glass-dungeon-door, Mistress Monjeau had peeled off her black silk robe, hung it on a hanger, and was now gloriously nude... again!  And the promise of Lacey's curvaceous profile in the silk robe and super-sexy dominatrix uniform she'd been wearing earlier was fulfilled.  Lacey Monjeau had an incredible body, not just for an old lady (like Skye's mom) but for anybody!  Fair complexion, defined muscles, very feminine curves, generous boobs—more generous than Skye's boobs, anyway (or her mom's, for that matter)—gleaming, raven-black hair, and a neatly trimmed pubic bush.

Wow!  Skye realized her brain was stuck on "Wow!" but at the moment there was nothing she could do about it.

Still gloriously nude, Lacey left the closet, closing the door behind her.  She's going to take a shower, Skye surmised.  I hope she orders the food first.  Her stomach grumbled again.  I'm hungry.

Before the food arrived, Kanoa had rearranged Jodi's bonds from a flat-on-her-back stringent spreadeagle to a semi-reclined-against-a-pile-of-pillows semi-stringent spreadeagle.  Jodi was still naked (of course), but the pretty brown leather and black rubber ball-gag formerly plugging her mouth was now in ugly-necklace-mode, hanging around her neck with the strap's buckle secured on its first hole.

Even earlier, after her shower and while Jodi watched from the bed, Kanoa had donned a fresh set of underwear, followed by a pair of black, short-but-baggy running shorts, and a sleeveless top in a very pretty shade of plumb-purple.  And then, as if on cue, the doorbell chimed.  The food had arrived.

Kanoa had arranged the open containers on a low tray-table resting next to her on the bed, and was sitting face-to-face with her overnight guest, her legs splayed and resting atop Jodi's thighs.  Her guest's pouting/smiling mouth was within easy reach, and Kanoa was using a pair of chopsticks and a Chinese "Duck" spoon to expertly deliver yummy tidbits or spoonfuls of soup to Jodi's pouting/smiling mouth.  And Kanoa was feeding herself as well.  On the menu was Hot and Sour Soup, BBQ Pork, Prawns, Crispy Spring Rolls, Crab Won-Tons, Broccoli Beef, Almond Chicken, Sweet and Sour Pork, Cashew Chicken, and Special Fried Rice

It was a feast, and it was all washed down with hot tea.  As previously mentioned, Kanoa was expert in the use of chopsticks.  For those items that required the "digging" technique (like the rice), she held the container close to Jodi's lips and more or less shoveled the contents into her mouth, but most items required the "picking" method and were delivered one morsel at a time.  There were only a few instances where dollops of sauce, stray rice grains, or other flecks of food landed on Jodi's smooth, freckled chest and boobs, but they were quickly dealt with by Kanoa's tongue. 

Jodi was well aware that Kanoa was a fastidious eater and the incidents of spillage were more-or-less intentional on her hostess' part, but all she could she do was endure the, uh, humiliation of Kanoa dragging her warm, wet tongue across her skin.  Okay, the large glob of Sweet and Sour sauce that landed directly on Jodi's left nipple and required extended licking and sucking was especially egregious, but she still didn't complain.  She also managed to stifle most of the inevitable smile that kept struggling to curl her lips, and to ignore the thrill rippling between her splayed legs.

Anyway, it was a very civilized meal... and eventually it was over.

Jodi watched as Kanoa climbed off the bed, lifted the tray, and disappeared out the bedroom door.  Obviously she was carrying everything to the kitchen for disposal of the empty cartons and cleanup of the chopsticks, spoon, and tea set.  She tugged on her bonds—a restrained stretch, rather than an escape attempt—then heaved a deep sigh.  Skye!  My baby!

Kanoa returned in only a few minutes, peeled off her clothing until she was as nude as her guest, then climbed back onto the bed and straddled Jodi's spreadeagled body.

Jodi heaved another sigh.  "What do you think is goin' on at Lacey's?  What is she doing to my—Mrrrf!"

Kanoa had clamped her right palm over Jodi's mouth.  "Not one more word about Skye," she warned with a dimpled smile, "or the ball-gag goes back in your mouth 'til morning."  Still maintaining the hand-gag, Kanoa used her left hand to gently stroke Jodi's labia... then slid her middle finger between the flushed petals and massaged her business partner's clitoris!

Jodi closed her green eyes and her entire body shuddered in "distress."

Kanoa's right hand left Jodi's lips, but quickly took a firm, gentle hold in Jodi's ginger hair, and the hand-gag was replaced by a "kiss-gag."

It was, indeed, a long, wet kiss, lasted a very long time, and was followed by many more... as well as other activities requiring the use of lips and tongues.

"I'm sure of it," Harper said quietly.  "Something weird is going on."

Pallavi smiled.  "Aside from me being naked, tied up, and rolling around on your bed?"

Dinner was behind them, as were their preparations for slumber, all of which Pallavi had accomplished with Harper's kind assistance.  Her bonds had been changed to a standard box-tie, so she'd been unable to eat, scrub her face, or brush her own teeth without help.  Emptying her bladder was something Pallavi could manage, but not the after-tinkle cleanup.

By the way, Harper was now as naked as her guest/prisoner and was also lying on the bed.  She was not, however, tied up.

Pallavi tugged on her bonds.  "Pretty good," she conceded.  The change from hog-tie to box-tie had been for Pallavi's benefit, of course, so she could "comfortably" roll on the bed all night with only minimal shoulder strain.  It was something Skye had taught them.  Their ginger friend had always been a thoughtful and considerate kidnapper.

"Thanks," Harper smiled, then planted a kiss on her overnight guest's right breast.  "Now," she purred, "speaking of weird..."  She kissed Pallavi's left nipple, then licked her lips in preparation for further tongue related activities.

"Wait," Pallavi objected.

"Wait?" Harper demanded.

"Tomorrow's my day off, " Pallavi stated, "So, if Skye shows up at work, give me a call.  But if she doesn't, you need to sneak a peek at the records and figure out exactly where and to whom she made the mysterious delivery, then call and give me the address."

Harper frowned.  "Why?"

Pallavi rolled her eyes.  "So I can sneak out to wherever she is and make sure she's okay.  And while you're rummaging through the invoices, make sure the bosses don't notice you being nosy."

Harper's frown remained.  "Seriously?  You really think something's wrong?"

"Not wrong per se," Pallavi chuckled, "just weird."  She leaned close and planted a kiss of her own on her Cruel Kidnapper's lips.  "Anyway, find the address, gimme a call, I'll sneak over to wherever she is, and we'll know what's what."

Harper remained dubious.  "If something is wrong, Jodi and your mom would have stormed out to wherever they sent Skye and dragged her back."

"Instead," Pallavi countered, "they both acted bonkers, all day.  Like I said, something weird is going on."  She leaned even closer and nibbled the lobe of her captor's left ear, then rested her head on Harper's shoulder.  "Anyway, I'll go out to wherever Skye is and make sure she's okay.  She won't even see me.  I'll make sure of it.  What can possibly go wrong?"

"Nothing," Harper sighed.  "Everything."  She gave Pallavi's right breast a gentle squeeze.  "Anyway, be careful.  Don't embarrass Skye."

"Oh, I'll be careful," Pallavi grinned.  "I'm always careful."

Typical, Harper thought as she rolled her eyes, then set about the serious business of making out with her fellow shop girl and captive for the evening.

Skye heaved a sigh.  It was, indeed, a day of firsts.  An incredible day of firsts.

     ☻  First ever home delivery, both for Plumeria and lowly shop girl Skye Gilroy.

     ☻  First time meeting an actual dominatrix!  An actual professional dominatrix!

     ☻  First time getting tied up (as opposed to being the one doing the tying)!

     ☻  First official languishing-in-bondage interval.

     ☻  First time getting tied up naked!

     ☻  Second time languishing, but first time languishing while naked!

     ☻  First time, uh, almost getting flagellated!

     ☻  First time in leather bondage!  ...while naked!

     ☻  First time eating with chopsticks!

Okay,  first time being fed with chopsticks, but Lacey had proved herself to be adept in the Chinese method of eating Chinese food.  Skye was impressed... and full.  It had been a lot of food.  Also...

     ☻  First time kneeling directly in front of a gorgeous old lady (who was her mom's age!) who was comfortably sitting in an easy chair and skillfully delivering various savory tidbits to her mouth!

And finally...

     ☻  First time getting her teeth brushed by a gorgeous, mature lady in a silk robe.  Also, Lacey had scrubbed her face, then brushed her hair and captured it in a ribbon-enforced ponytail.  Also, after Skye had emptied her bladder in the commode, Lacey had scrubbed her crotch with a warm, wet washcloth!  That was definitely a first!

And now, they were back in the bedroom and Skye was comfortably reclined under the covers on Lacey's gigantic bed.  She was still wearing the fist-mitts, box-tie-binder, and body harness, but Lacey had removed the steel collar, her legs were free, and the ball-gag was loose around her neck and not plugging her mouth.  She watched her hostess peel off her robe, drape it over the foot of the bed... climb onto the bed and under the covers, then snuggle close to her wide-eyed, naked, and helplessly leather-bound self!

Skye couldn't decide if she was emotionally and physically exhausted, or in extreme emotional and physical distress.  Okay, strike the physical part.  At least for now, the leather-enforced box-tie was comfortable... meaning comfortable-ish.

"Your heart is beating a mile a minute," Lacey purred.

It was true, and Skye was seriously considering panting and sweating.

"You've had a very busy day and I can tell you're tired," Lacey continued, "so be a good girl and go to sleep.  We'll talk in the morning, and we have a great deal to talk about."

Skye blinked and swallowed.  Her green eyes were locked with her hostess' pale-blue eyes.  "D-do I have to be tied up like this?" she inquired, almost in a whisper.

Lacey smiled and kissed her potential (probable) apprentice's lips.  "Of course, but be a good girl, let me sleep, and I'll release you in the morning."

"And the demonstration will be over?"

Lacey's smile widened.  "Don't sound so disappointed, darling."  She embraced her guest and gave her a warm hug.

"Eek!" Skye yelped.  Lacey's skin was warm and smooth, there was a lot of it, and most of it was pressed against Skye's skin (including her boobs)!  Skye considered complaining, but who was she kidding?  A shudder rippled through her body as the hug continued... and then was released.  Lacey (including her boobs) was still close—very close—but the air-gap had been restored.  "Seriously, you're gonna let me go?"

"I said we'd talk in the morning, darling."  Lacey lifted the ball of Skye's ball-gag necklace and popped it in the startled ginger's mouth.  "Hold that, or I'll give you a spanking."

Skye bit down on the semi-soft rubber sphere, just a little.  Holding the thing in her mouth wasn't much of a challenge.  It was two-inches in diameter, after all.  And Skye did not want a spanking.

"Oh, I almost forgot to give you a goodnight kiss," Lacey chuckled, then plucked the ball from Skye's mouth and leaned close—close enough for her boobs to regain contact with Skye's boobs—and delivered a long, deep kiss... with tongue!

Skye had no choice but to kiss her hostess back.  It was the polite thing to do.  Another shudder shook her naked, helpless frame.  Wow!

Finally, Lacey broke the kiss.  "Goodnight, darling," she purred, then crammed the semi-hard sphere back in place.  However, she didn't tighten the ball-gag's strap.

"Mrrr'mm," Skye replied.  (Goodnight.)  She realized that at some point during the night the ball would inevitably fall from her mouth, but she did nothing to encourage the process.  After all, orders were orders.

Lacey leaned to the side, towards the bedside table, there was a quiet click, and the bedroom lights winked out.  She then rolled back to her former position, well within snuggling range.

Skye's heart was still hammering.  She stared into the darkness and... tried to relax.  What other choice have I got?  Wow!

By all indications, Lacey was going to sleep.  She wasn't going to do anything... at least not right now.  And by "anything" Skye meant suck on her face, squeeze her boobs, or engage in some kind of monkey business.  And by "monkey business" she meant Lacey stroking her pussy and making her cum like the proverbial bunny.  This was a good thing, of course, for two reasons.

Reason number one: Skye had never gone that far with her playmates, meaning Pallavi and Harper.  Maybe they would someday, eventually, but for some reason it hadn't happened yet.  Actually, Skye knew the reason.  Pallavi and Harper were her friends, and she didn't want to risk making things complicated and bizarre.  Skye was chicken, a great big chicken who didn't want to risk her rope privileges with her friends by turning everything into some kind of... romance.

Reason number two: Lacey was an old lady!  Granted, she was hot-as-hell and very nice (for a dominatrix who had spent most of the day tying her up), but... she's as old as Mom!

But now that Skye thought about it (and what else did she have to think about)... was it so bad making out (and possibly going all the way) with a mature woman?  Especially a super-gorgeous mature woman like Lacey Monjeau?

Yes, Skye decided, and no... and... I'll have to think about it.

But instead of sorting out her feelings vis-à-vis sucking face and/or making whoopee with her gorgeous and mature hostess... Skye closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.