by Van © 2020
			Chapter 10

The mother-daughter exchanges of the Skye/Jodi/Lacey phone conversation were deeply personal.  So personal, in fact, that Lacey found herself blushing as she basked in the love, warmth, and caring on open display.  The conversation did have practical results, of course, and they included:

●  Skye was granted permission to use her accumulated vacation days—more than three weeks worth!—which meant she could remain at Lacey's Lair.

●  Jodi and Kanoa would start the process of hiring a new shop girl on Monday morning, but not as a replacement for Skye.  The Bosses had already discussed enlarging the sales force.  Skye taking an "early vacation" was merely a convenient excuse for immediate action.

●  Skye had to promise to eat balanced meals, get plenty of sleep, and call home at the very least once a week to let mother know she was okay.  Skye rolled her eyes and accepted her mom's egregious maternal nagging with good grace (but would never in a million years admit that it warmed her heart).  Lacey promised she'd do her part to make sure her young guest ate nutritious meals, was well rested, and was a dutiful daughter.

●  On their off time, Pallavi (and Harper, if she also wanted to play) could join the fun (whatever "the fun" might be), but only if they reported for their scheduled shifts at Plumeria on time, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to provide world class customer service.

●  Jodi and Kanoa promised to stay away and let their daughters do... whatever it was they were doing... but Lacey had to promise to provide adult supervision.  Lacey and Skye exchanged a knowing smile, then accepted Jodi's final condition.  After all (they silently agreed), providing adult supervision was one way to describe the role of a dominatrix.

And that was that.

Skye had received the distinct impression that her mother knew more about the kind of stuff that went on at Lacey's Lair than she was willing to admit.  Mamma Gilroy already knew her darling daughter was an out-of-control rope-freak, of course, and Mamma Anuhea knew her daughter was Skye's co-conspirator and rope-fiend/victim, but the very idea that Jodi and Kanoa knew about Lacey being a Professional Dominatrix and were more than just tolerant parental units who chose not to interfere in their daughters' games was... totally absurd!

In any case, Skye dismissed the nagging suspicion that her mother(s) was (were) secretly on board with the kinky nature of her "vacation," and decided to bask in the triumphant glow of unqualified success.  And gaining three weeks of first class dominatrix/rigging instruction was definitely a success... right?  Uh... right!  Success!  She couldn't wait to share the news with her BFF, when Pallavi wasn't isolation-hooded, Mistress was elsewhere, and they could gossip freely.

Lacey returned the iPhone to her pocket, then, as before, lifted her vacationing house guest by her kimono-harness-to-wrist-and-ankle-bonds and carried her off the deck and back out onto the lawn.

"Hey!" Skye objected.  Mistress was strong and the rope-pressure was well distributed, but being treated like a bundled commodity was damaging her ego.

"Hush," Lacey chuckled, then deposited Skye on the grass, on her stomach, boobs, and thighs, and facing her naked, hog-tied, and isolation-hooded BFF.

Skye watched with a puzzled frown as Lacey knelt beside Pallavi and began untying her bonds.  "You're letting her go?"

"Watch closely," Lacey purred, ignoring Skye's question.  (It didn't really need answering, anyway.)  "This will be a box-tie demonstration.  Pay special attention to the details of the shoulder-yoke and note the way I cinch the horizontal ropes and take repeated hitches to lock the tension."

"Uh, okay," Skye nodded.

Still smiling, Lacey locked eyes with her student.  "That's okay, Mistress.  From now on, you will address me as Mistress.  Always.  Do you understand?"

"Uh, yes, Mistress," Skye responded.  She was already thinking of Lacey as Mistress, most of the time, but... whatever.  A thrill rippled between her legs.  "Uh... just out of curiosity..."

"What will happen if you don't?" Lacey purred.  "If you fail to show Mistress the proper respect, you will be severely punished.  I'm sure you'll find my curriculum challenging enough without accumulating demerits and requiring special instruction.  Again, do you understand?"

Skye nodded, gravely.  "I understand, Mistress."

This time, it was Lacey who felt the shivering ghost of a thrill quivering through her crotch.  Skye was naked and helpless, and more importantly, she knew herself to be naked and helpless; and she'd made the conscious decision to grant her instructor respect.  Jodi's daughter was a strong-willed young lady, but Lacey knew she hadn't put her through nearly enough stress to come anywhere close to breaking her spirit.  Skye's endowment of respect was a conscious decision.  And oh-by-the-way, breaking the adorable little ginger's delightful spirit was the last thing Lacey wanted to happen.

And proper protocol aside, Lacey knew she was being granted an incredible gift: Skye's trust.  Respect and obedience were important, and whether or not Skye understood the full significance of the additional gift she was bestowing upon her Mistress wasn't yet clear.  Lacey's skills as a Dominatrix aside, Skye had accepted Lacey as her Mistress, and there was no chance whatsoever that she was faking it.  Mistress Monjeau would be able to tell.

A great deal of delicate work lay ahead, but Lacey's apprentice had taken the critical first step and Mistress was pleased.  And yes, even though Lacey had yet to broach the subject with the ginger youngster gazing at her with her big, green, adorable eyes, Lacey had accepted Skye as her apprentice.  She made a mental note to make the formal offer to the freckled scamp at the next suitable opportunity... which was not right now.

Lacey cleared her throat.  (And her pale-blue eyes were not welling with unshed tears.  A display of weakness would be absolutely inappropriate!)  "Ahem.  Now, pay close attention."

"Yes, Mistress," Skye nodded.

The important thing was that the phone conversation had put things solidly on the right track, and Skye's attitude would go a long way towards keeping things on the right track... not that Lacey had a ton of experience shepherding a budding dominatrix towards mastery of her chosen vocation.

Anyway, Pallavi's hogtie-bonds melted away... and were replaced.

This was hardly Pallavi's first experience being naked, hogtied, and tape-gagged; however, it was her first experience languishing on a near stranger's backyard lawn, naked, hogtied, tape-gagged, and with her ears plugged and her head encased in an honest-to-goodness black leather isolation hood!  As time passed, she found herself to be increasingly... disoriented?  She wasn't sure exactly how to describe her perceptions.  She could feel the grass under her boobs, tummy, and thighs, and she could feel a light breeze... now and then... or maybe not.  Maybe her skin was getting hypersensitive and there was no breeze.  Also, she could feel the ropes... the ropes Skye had used to impress Lacey with her rigging prowess.  As usual, nothing was too tight or what she could call painful... not at the moment, anyway... but she could feel the ropes.

As for the passage of time.  Yes.  Time passed.  Entire minutes.  Lots of minutes.  And she was... drifting.  Drifting.  And then—"Mrrrf!"—something (two sets of fingers, actually) touched her.  She flinched in response, and a hand gave her a reassuring pat.  Then, the fingers began fiddling with her ropes.  No, Pallavi decided, 'fiddling' is inaccurate.  The fingers were unraveling her bonds with dexterity, economy of motion, and total competence.  The hogtie relaxed... then the fingers concentrated on her upper-body harness.  Her ankles and knees remained bound.

Pallavi decided her rescuer was Lacey, as opposed to Skye  She couldn't be absolutely certain, of course, but whoever was freeing her was wearing clothes.  Smooth fabric and leather brushed against her skin, now and then.  Also, her rescuer's actions was quick and sure, not that Skye fumbled and groped when she was the one doing the untying, but Skye always took her time, and she wasn't shy about sliding her fingers where they weren't needed while she unraveled the ropes.  No, her rescuer was Lacey... probably.

But then—Huh?—Lacey stopped being her rescuer and started being her captor!  Lacey folded Pallavi's arms behind her back and a loop of doubled rope tightened around her wrists.  Her bonds were being changed, not removed!

"Mrrrmpf!"  Pallavi wiggled and squirmed and let her captor know she was unhappy—Smack!—and was rewarded with another "reassuring pat," only this one stung!  It was an unmistakable warning.  "Mrrrf!" Pallavi complained, but she took the hint and from that point forward lay perfectly still, made no effort to impede Lacey's efforts to reapply the ropes to her upper body, and let the doubled strands slither and tighten where they may.

It didn't take Pallavi long to realize she was on the receiving end of a box-tie... but it was a complex box-tie.  Lacey's actions remained quick and sure, but whatever she was doing required a lot of looping, cinching, and the taking of hitches to maintain tension.

Not having anything else to do at the moment, Pallavi settled in to wait for the final knot.

"You're showing off... Mistress," Skye pouted.

It was both undeniable and impressive.  The bare bones of the doubled rope strands pinning Pallavi's upper-arms to her torso, yoking her shoulders, and lashing her forearms together behind her back constituted a classic box-tie, even though Lacey had raised Pallavi's wrists slightly above the horizontal until, arguably, they were crossed.  It was far from being a reverse-prayer box-tie, but was, uh... slightly stringent?  In addition, there were interwoven, diagonal, doubled strands integrated into the harness and enhancing the box-tie.  Also, multiple doubled strands encircled Pallavi's waist and acted as a technically unnecessary lower anchor, balancing the upper anchor of the shoulder ropes.  It was an fancy classic box-tie.  Wow!

Lacey noticed Skye's expression.  "Practice makes perfect," she purred.  She tied the key knot between Pallavi's shoulder-blades and just below the nape of her neck, and well away from her fluttering fingertips.  She then began untying Pallavi's ankles.

"I'll never be able to replicate that thing," Skye huffed, "Mistress."

"You will in time," Lacey assured her hogtied apprentice.

"A lot of time," Skye muttered.

"Not to mention diligent hard work," Lacey smiled.  "You'll note I didn't add a vertical element to the waist-anchor," she said as she finished untying Pallavi's ankles and started releasing her knees.  "If I really wanted to show off, I'd add a Sakura with shinju."

Skye frowned (and blushed).  "Say what?"

"Tying the Cherry, with added pleasure-knots."

"You mean a crotch-rope?" Skye demanded... then noticed Lacey was still smiling, but had raised a disapproving eyebrow.  "Uh, crotch-rope, Mistress?"

"That's better," Lacey chuckled.  "There are many shinju techniques, and properly applied, a languishing client can ride them to a satisfying orgasm... with effort."

Skye's blush deepened... which was embarrassing... meaning it was embarrassing to be embarrassed.  She blinked, bit her lower lip, and wiggled in her bonds.  Mistress knew she was embarrassed, and was enjoying it.  Skye could tell.

"Surely you realize there is an erotic element to basic dominatrix services," Lacey purred, then rolled Pallavi onto her side, folded her left leg until her heel nudged the back of her thigh, then began lashing the leg in a complex frog-tie.

Skye swallowed (nervously), and watched as loop after hitched loop enveloped Pallavi's leg from her ankle and upper thigh, all the way to her knee.  "Don't call me Shirley, Mistress," she muttered.

"Cheeky monkey," Lacey chuckled.

"Sorry," Skye sighed.  "I get cheeky when I'm nervous... Mistress."  She frowned in concentration.  "T-that's more than a frog-tie.  It's a... ladder-frog-tie?"

Lacey's smile widened, "Actually, it's a futomomo, a staple of Kinbaku."

Skye nodded.  Soon, both of Pallavi's legs were folded and ladder-frog-tied (futomomo'd?), and Skye continued watching as Mistress hauled her Kinbaku-bound BFF up until she was sitting on her butt and splayed, folded and bound legs, with her back (and bound arms) resting against Lacey's front (and boobs).  Skye also watched as Mistress held Pallavi in her semi-reclined position by reaching across her bound body with her left arm and cupping her right breast with her left hand!

Pallavi shivered in her bonds (and against Lacey's body), but otherwise remained frozen in place... and she didn't mewl through her tape gag and the padded panel and tight strap of the section of the isolation-hood pressed against her mouth.

"Do you employ crotch-ropes with your playmates?" Lacey inquired.

"No, Mistress," Skye shook her head.  "It would make things... complicated."

"I see," Lacey purred.  She didn't squeeze Pallavi's breast, and her right hand was resting on her own thigh... as opposed to Pallavi's naked, tan, rope-bound thigh.

Skye swallowed before continuing.  "You're not gonna... are you?"

"No, dear," Lacey chuckled, "not with poor, helpless Pallavi.  That would be unfair.  However..."

Skye watched (her heart pounding, as Lacey, smiling like a gorgeous predator, eased Pallavi back down onto the grass, gracefully repositioned herself, then hauled her other young guest onto her knees and rested her naked, bound body against her body.  Skye had taken Pallavi's place!  She was leaning against Mistress with her left boob cupped in Mistress' hand!  And this time, Lacey did squeeze!

"Mistress—Mrrrf!"  Lacey's right hand was pressed against Skye's lips in a tight hand-gag!

"Hush," Lacey whispered in Skye's ear, then released the hand-gag.  "Remember the body harness you wore last night?"

"W-with the fist-mitts, box-tie-binder, and all the other straps that made the whole thing a binder-body-harness?"  Skye squirmed in her bonds (and against her Mistress' upper-body and boobs!)  "Uh, now that you mention it... no."

"Cheeky monkey," Lacey chuckled, then kissed Skye's left ear.  "I'll have to cure you of that habit.  Anyway, as I'm sure you remember, the lowest strap of the harness has rings in the front and back, and tThey're attachment points for a variety of crotch-cleaving accessories, including a narrow pussy-strap, a Hitachi harness that firmly anchors the head of a vibrator where it will do the most good..."  She gave Skye's breast another squeeze before continuing.  "As well as a variety of straps with attached intruders... anal and vaginal plugs... vibrating plugs... even electrified plugs.  They're for disciplinary purposes, of course.  Also... a leather diaper-strap to ensure inserted peeled ginger roots remain in place."

Skye's green eyes popped wide.  "G-g-ginger?"

"The sensation is unbearable," Lacey purred, "a burning, itching sensation that slowly builds and builds and builds."  She squeezed Skye's breast, again.  "And it lasts for hours before fading."

"N-no!" Skye wailed.

"Are you sure?" Lacey chuckled.  "Ginger for my precious ginger?"

"No!" Skye huffed.  "P-please stop teasing me... Mistress."

Lacey's smile widened.  Her precious pupil was frightened.  She could feel Skye's heart pounding and her breath coming in pants, but she was also being adorably brave.  "All right, darling," she purred.  "There will be no ginger roots unpleasantly tucked into unwilling orifices... but I will tease you.  Your lessons in forced orgasm extraction have to start sometime... and there's no time like the present."

"Forced what?  Mrmpf!"  Mistress' hand-gag was back, and her left hand had left Skye's boob and was sliding down her tummy, towards her crotch!  It didn't take a psychic to divine Mistress' intentions!

"Mrrrrr!"

Pallavi listened intently.  Lacey had stopped fooling with her and she was back on the grass... naked, bound, gagged, hooded... so everything was hunky-dory.  This was a good thing, of course, and not at all disappointing.  A super-hot older women was no longer clutching her right boob.  (Dammit!)  Also, even though her ears were plugged and tightly covered by the ear-padding of the hood, she could tell her hostess and supposed BFF (who had lured her out here to the middle of nowhere, tricked her into stripping naked, then tied her up) were engaged in conversation about... something.  She couldn't make out a single word.  It was all faint noise modulated like speech, but that was the extent of her comprehension.  She'd also "heard" whatever Lacey had said to Skye while she was embracing her from behind with one hand grabbing her breast, which had left behind a residual tingle, by the way... mostly in the semi-erect nipple.

Anyway... she could understand nothing that anybody was saying.

They were close (meaning her hostess and despicable BFF), only a few feet away... probably.  She supposed she could start rolling around on the grass 'til she made contact, but what was the point?  Also, it would probably make her seem needy, right?  On the other hand, for all she knew she was the center of attention and they were talking about her.  And now that she thought about it, that was actually probable.

And then the talking-noise stopped.

Pallavi rolled onto her side, squirmed her shoulders, fought her tight-but-comfortable box-tie, kicked (flapped) her folded and bound legs, wiggled her fingers and toes, then heaved a tragic and heartbreaking sigh through the tape-gag and hood.  If the foam ball stuffed in her mouth, the tape sealing her lips, and the leather padding and strap pressed against her mouth would have made it possible, she would have smiled.  Now, she knew she had to be the center of attention.  After all, what could Skye and Lacey possibly be concerned about that could compete with the sight of a naked, helplessly bound, effectively gagged, hooded, and seductively writhing Pallavi Anuhea?

Skye's green eyes were wide and her freckled cheeks flushed above Mistress' hand-gag.  "Mrrrrf."  It was more a muffled whine than a stifled complaint.

"Easy, darling," Lacey whispered as her right hand began toying with her new apprentice's labia.  The labia in question were flushed and moist.  Lacey didn't have to be an experienced dominatrix (which she was) to ascertain that Skye was in a receptive state for her lesson.  Frantic and unprepared?  Yes.  Totally reluctant?  No.  Nonetheless, proper protocol must be obeyed.

"I'm going to release my hand," she whispered, "and I don't want you to scream.  You might frighten poor Pallavi."

Skye continued blinked, also shivering and squirming.  She assumed the hand Mistress was referring to was the hand pressed against her mouth, as opposed to the hand teasing her pussy.  She nodded, as much as Mistress' hand-gag would allow.

Lacey released her hand-gag.

There was a pause while Skye licked her lips and swallowed, but she didn't scream.

Lacey kissed the side of her student's neck, then once again whispered in her ear.  "Consent is important.  Many clients enjoy role-playing reluctant damsels, of course, but consent is important.  In fact, consent is paramount.  Do you understand?"

Skye was panting and her breasts heaving, and while Mistress' hand continued stroking and massaging her hoo-haw, she managed to keep it together enough to respond.  "Uh-huh."

"Good."  Lacey licked the side of Skye's neck (eliciting a delicate shiver that quaked through the adorable youngster's entire bound body.  "Now, I'm of the school that 'safe-words' not only signal the limit of a client's pain-tolerance, but also the withdrawal of her formal consent.  It signals the desire to pause or end the session, even if no pain is involved.  Again, do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Mistress," Skye whispered.

"No means no," Lacey continued, "or, in this case, your safe-word means no, no to pain and no to whatever else is happening."

"I understand," Skye whispered.

"Good."  Lacey kissed Skye's ear (eliciting another shiver).  Your safe-word is... 'Pippi Longstockings.'"

Despite the distracting magic emanating from Mistress' right hand, this was just too much!  "No!  I hate that little brat," Skye objected.  "Every redhead on the planet hates that little brat!"  Pippi Lonstockings was the heroine of a series of children's books by Astrid Lindgren.  And there were Pippi Longstockings movies and TV series that were were so horrible (in Skye's humble opinion) that they were cult classics.  The spunky little redhead, with her pair of overly-tight braids, exaggerated freckles, and bucktooth smile, was cute and perky to the point of being cloying.

"I want another safe-word," Skye huffed.

"But it's perfect, darling," Lacey countered.  "You'll certainly never have any trouble remembering it, not if you hate it so much."

"It won't do in any case," Skye huffed.  "Pippi Longstocking is two words, not one."  Satisfied that she'd made an irrefutable counterargument, Skye settled in to the serious business of ignoring what Mistress' hand was doing between her legs.

"Oh, touché, darling," Lacey chuckled.  "In that case, your safeword is... 'Pippilongstockings.'  One word."

"That's cheating," Skye objected.

"Mistress always gets the final call," Lacey purred.  "That's one of the major perks of being Mistress."

"It's still cheating," Skye huffed.  There was a brief pause before she remembered her manners.  "Mistress."

"Delightful," Lacey chuckled, then hand-gagged Skye's pouting mouth, once again.  "This will make it easier for you to stay quiet," she explained, then began the serious business of slowly escalating and carefully modulating her frigging efforts.

"Mrrr!"  Skye wiggled and squirmed and fought her Mistress' inescapable ropes, strong embrace, and tight (but not punishingly tight) hand-gag.  She would have thought that her stringent hogtie, especially the tightly cinched knee-ropes pressing her thighs together, would be making Mistress' pussy-diddling efforts problematic... but this was not proving to be the case.  Go figure.  Also... "Mrrrrr!"

The result was inevitable: one crashing, intense orgasm!  Quite possibly, it was the single best orgasm of Skye's young life.  And no amount of squirming, wiggling, mewling, or fantasizing about disposing of Pippi Longstockings by various unspeakably horrible methods and thereby distracting her mind could keep the erotic explosion at bay.

A few hours later...

---

So... after the interplay, bondage, and languishing... Skye had been the one to untie Pallavi, remove her hood and tape gag, then shown her the way to the guest bathroom.  There, Pallavi had enjoyed a long, hot, rejuvenating shower.  As it turned out, Skye had already enjoyed her shower, and before untying Poor Pallavi.  And why didn't Skye untie Pallavi the very instant she was untied by Mistress Monjeau?  Because she was a selfish dweed, that's why!

Pallavi wasn't really angry and/or resentful, but The Girls (Pallavi, Skye, and Harper) had a long established tradition of giving each other grief.  Today's adventure was spectacularly amazing, but not enough to override social norms.

Dinner was carbonara spaghetti accompanied by garden salads and an excellent red wine.  It was all very yummy.

They ate on the deck, and although Pallavi's clothes were neatly stacked, just off to the side and freely available, Pallavi followed Skye's lead and remained in her birthday suit.  Lacey, however, had changed out of her "uniform" of black riding-boots, dark gray riding-pants, black corset-belt, and black blouse, and into "civvies" consisting of denim-blue designer jeans and a sleeveless dove-gray top, trimmed with black lace.  Her feet were bare, like her naked guests, and her black hair was loose around her shoulders.  The girls' ginger and sun-streaked hair (respectively) remained in tight ponytails.

Anyhoo... it was a very nice dinner with excellent food and engaging company.

Pallavi sighed... there had been a little awkwardness.  How could there not be?  But they were all fellow bondage-freaks, right?  Granted, Lacey was a super-hot, super-experienced Professional Dominatrix, but she was also a Great Big Sweetie, and that had diffused most of the tension.

Anyway, the bottom line (or lines) was (were)...

At least until her vacation days ran out, Skye was going to remain Lacey's guest, and she expected to learn a Galactic Shitload of new bondage techniques.  ("Galactic Shitload" was Skye's phrase, of course, not Pallavi's, and it had earned the grinning ginger an amused rebuke from their hostess.)

Pallavi should feel free to drop by on her days off to "help Skye with her studies."  That time the phrase had been Lacey's, but by her smile and enthusiast nod, Pallavi knew Skye was in full agreement.

And finally, would Pallavi be so kind as to extend the same invitation to Harper?  Yeah, sure, why not?  Why should Pallavi be the only one to revel in naked bound and gagged languishing?

And what about poor Skye, naked and remaining behind in the clutches of Mistress Monjeau?  It served her right, as far as Pallavi was concerned, and she was sure Harper would agree.  Pallavi was absolutely sure Harper would agree.  A little worried (and possibly a little jealous)?  Yes, but she'd still agree.  If she had to, Pallavi would tie her up and tickle her silly 'til she did agreed.

The sun was setting, but it wasn't yet dark enough for Pallavi to turn on her headlights for the drive home.  Yes, she couldn't wait to tell Harper about her day off, but as for her mom (or Jodi, tomorrow, when she reported for work)... not so much.  That is, she wasn't even going to hint that she'd been stripped naked, bound, and gagged for half the morning and most of the afternoon.  She certainly wasn't going to tell them about the isolation hood.  Harper?  Yes!  Harper would be amazed!  But neither of her moms had a legitimate need to know (as far as Pallavi was concerned).
 
Pallavi was looking forward to a good night's sleep... and maybe a little tension relief.  Would her mother pester her for an update as soon as she got home and delay her much needed beddy-bye?  Yes, so Pallavi started composing a carefully edited and reassuring account of what was happening at Lacey's Lair.