|by Van © 2016
THE MAINLAND Parlor was the same
medieval/Victorian sitting room where Cat and Cecelia had first
met Lady Carewyn. Cat deposited her binoculars,
fanny-pack, sweater, and goblin-hat on a side table, then joined
Jocelyn before the bank of diamond-pane windows and they settled
into a pair of comfortable wing-chairs. The clouds had
dissipated and the day was bright and sunny.
"Beautiful," Cat sighed as she gazed across the Irish Sea at the
"Indeed," Jocelyn nodded. "In all seasons, in all
weather... beautiful." She shifted her smile to Cat.
Cat smiled back... then her smile faded. The 800 pound
gorilla had followed them into the room, and there were limits
to its patience. "Uh... Jocelyn, I'm grateful for your
"You're worried about Cecelia, of course," Jocelyn interrupted
with a smile. "Let's agree to talk openly. I give
you my solemn word that I will allow no harm to come to either
your goddaughter or yourself."
Myself? Cat wasn't concerned for herself.
"Cecelia has always liked to play, uh..."
"Bondage games?" Jocelyn suggested, and Cat nodded (and
blushed). Jocelyn reached out and gave Cat a reassuring
pat on her right knee. "Mrs. Ingleby informed me that she
found Cecelia bound with rope on her hotel room bed."
Cat's blush deepened. "It's just an innocent game.
We—I mean she—she likes pretending she's a damsel in
distress... like Nancy Drew. Uh, you know Nancy Drew?"
Jocelyn's smile broadened. "Yes, I'm familiar with the
fictional girl detective. Anyway, that is why I was not totally
surprised when informed that Elyse and Cecelia had made their
nighttime excursion to the castle's lower levels."
Cat nodded. "Yes, that sounds like one of Cecelia's
stunts, but you own a torture chamber? Seriously?"
Still smiling, Jocelyn nodded. "A legacy of my ancestors'
fashionable fascination with the Romantic Movement.
Historical melodrama was all the rage. Early in Victoria's
reign, many titled families added 'authentic,' fully equipped
torture chambers, dungeons, and oubliettes to their
estates. In a lighter vein, 'hermit's caves' were added to
many gardens. Often, vagrants were employed to dress in
rags or animal skins and occupy said caves, posing as 'holy men'
meditating on mortality and spiritual aspects of the natural
world. Remind me to show you the castle's
'hermitage.' It's tucked away among the boulders atop the
Cat response was lukewarm. "Uh... okay."
"Anyway," Jocelyn continued, "Castle Caerwyn's subterranean
punitive facilities date from that period." Her Ladyship's
smile turned charmingly mischievous. "And as Her Majesty's
duly appointed Magistrate on the Isle of Caer, I find the castle
dungeons to be a convenient means of dealing with any rebellious
colonials that might trespass on the island."
Cat grinned. "Especially convenient when they volunteer
to be dealt with."
"Exactly," Jocelyn chuckled, then turned to the parlor
entrance. "Ah, our tea has arrived."
Like yesterday, Elyse was pushing a serving cart with a complete
tea service into the parlor. The only change was that she
had a blond, similarly uniformed assistant and they were chained
together at the neck. Cecelia was following in Elyse's
wake with her hands behind her back, doing nothing to assist
Elyse and apparently present only because of the swaying chain
linking their collars.
Cecelia grinned at her godmother. "Since I don't know how
to serve tea in the proper manner," she explained, "I'm supposed
to watch and learn."
Elyse rolled her eyes. "In silence," she admonished her
fellow domestic in a quiet whisper. "In silence."
Jocelyn winked at Cat. "According to the explicit
instructions of the Staff Mistress?" she inquired.
"Yes, Your Ladyship," Elyse acknowledged.
"Well then," Her Ladyship purred, "you know what to do."
Much to Cat's distress (or amusement) Elyse reached into the
pocket of her maid's apron and produced a ball-gag with a white
mouth-plugging sphere and a black leather strap. Cat
noticed that Cecelia was tugging on her unseen wrists as if they
were bound. It was a reasonable assumption that they were.
"Wait-wait-wait!" Cecelia gasped as Elyse stepped behind her,
reached over her head, and prepared to apply the ball-gag.
"Yes?" Lady Caerwyn purred.
Cecelia focused on Cat. "Lady Caerwyn is a recognized
expert in rope bondage," she said with an impish smile.
"Discuss." Having pulled the pin of a social hand grenade
and rolled it into the parlor, she opened her mouth and accepted
the gag. Elyse tightened the strap until Cecelia's cheeks
bulged, then secured the buckle at the nape of her neck.
Cat heaved a semi-exasperated sigh. Things were getting
worse and worse, better and better, or both. The ball in
her goddaughter's mouth was at least two inches in
diameter. Someone who didn't know Cecelia might describe
her expression as a grimace, but Cat recognized a delighted
smile. She could tell Cecelia was having the time of her
life... the little scamp.
"We'll serve ourselves, Elyse," Jocelyn said.
Elyse blinked in apparent surprise. "Your Ladyship?"
"Shoo," Jocelyn chuckled with a smile, then made a graceful,
Elyse dropped into a curtsy—nudging Cecelia with her hip until
her fellow maid also dropped into a bound and gagged curtsy—then
the chain-linked pair stood in unison, turned, and departed the
Cat noted that her goddaughter's wrists were, indeed, bound
behind her back with thin rope or thick cord... and then the
ginger and blond maids were gone. She turned back to find
Jocelyn expertly pouring a cup of tea. "Is it true?" Cat
asked in a quiet voice.
"Is what true, my dear?" Jocelyn said as she handed the cup and
saucer to Cat.
"You're a rope bondage expert?" Cat said quietly.
A delicate blush colored Her Ladyship's cheeks (which Cat found
to be really hot). "Well... some might characterize my
skill as such. At the urging of several of my friends,
I've allowed a series of books of my photographs to be
published—under a pseudonym, of course. I'm told they sell quite
well... to a niche audience."
"Wow," Cat whispered under her breath. A ghost of a thrill
rippled between Cat's legs and up her spine. Lady
Jocelyn Caerwyn... bondage expert! Cat took a sip of
tea, then cleared her throat. "Books? Plural?"
Jocelyn smiled. "I'll give you a set. My gift."
"Y-you don't have to do that," Cat stammered, then took another
sip of tea.
"It will be my pleasure," Jocelyn chuckled. She found
Cat's amazed reaction to be quite amusing (and somewhat
The Lady of the Castle and the "American trespasser" sipped
their tea and gazed at the Irish Sea.
Jocelyn smiled at her guest. "You believe me, don't you?"
Cat smiled back. "About the books? Sure."
Jocelyn continued smiling, obviously waiting for her to say
more. She knew Her Ladyship's question wasn't about her
published works. Cat emptied her tea cup before
continuing. "I know you won't hurt Cecelia," she said
seriously, then her smile returned, "but if Nora gets carried
away, will you let me kick her ass?"
"Yes, of course," Jocelyn laughed. "I'll let you try,
anyway." She set down her cup and saucer, then refilled
Cat's cup. "Nora is quite the scrapper."
"Thanks," Cat said, then took a careful sip from her replenished
cup. "I believe you about Nora being a scrapper... and
about Cecelia being safe."
Jocelyn smiled (and blushed), then refilled her own cup.
blond, bound, and ball-gagged; the other ginger and not
bound and ball-gagged—made their way back to the kitchen, the
chain linking their collars swaying as they walked.
Nora looked up as they entered her domain, paused in the act of
preparing Her Ladyship's lunch... and frowned.
Elyse gave a sad little sigh, then answered the unasked
question. "She spoke without permission."
Still frowning, Nora walked around the preparation table and
stood before Cecelia.
The gagged-smile on Cecelia's face had faded the instant they
entered the kitchen. She wasn't exactly scared, but Nora
was intimidating (in a Wicked Witch, Evil Stepmother, Cruel
Dominatrix sort of way).
"A pity," Nora growled, her eyes locked with Cecelia's.
"You both missed your breakfasts, and now one of you will be
going without lunch."
"Nora," Elyse responded (whined) carefully. "I'm sure
Cecelia is sorry."
"Sorry that she's disobedient, inattentive to instructions, and
hungry," Nora said evenly. "I quite agree." She
walked to a sideboard, lifted one of a pair of large chicken
salad sandwiches from a small plate, took a generous bite, then
returned to the work table, taking with her the sandwich and one
of two moisture-beaded bottles of Moorehouse Blond Witch Ale
that had been next to the plate. After chewing and
swallowing, Nora focused on Elyse and nodded towards the
remaining sandwich and bottle. "Take your lunch to the
Maid's Closet," she ordered.
"Yes, Staff Mistress," Elyse said with a sad sigh, dropped a
shallow curtsy, then took the plate and bottle and made her
exit. Cecelia had no choice but to follow, of course.
The "Maid's Closet" turned out to be a small, empty room down a
side hall. It had a solid door reinforced with iron bands
and a substantial sliding bolt on the outside. Inside was
nothing but stone walls, a plain wooden floor, and hefty timber
rafters overhead. The only "furnishing" was an iron ring
dangling from an iron staple solidly embedded in the wall
opposite the door. Once they were inside and Elyse had
closed the door behind them, the only light came from the single
bulb of a small fixture affixed to the rafters directly over the
center of the room.
"Take a load off," Elyse sighed as she gracefully settled to the
floor. Soon both maids were sitting together on the hard
wood with their legs tucked to one side. Elyse leaned
close, reached behind Cecelia's head and unbuckled her gag, then
closed the buckle on the strap's first hole.
Cecelia worked her jaws and tongue and forced the ball from her
mouth. The white rubber sphere exited her mouth and
bounced to her chest, joining her steel collar and chain as
kinky jewelry. "Eyah!" she gasped. "Thanks."
She smiled at her fellow maid. "Were you supposed to do
"No, I wasn't," Elyse huffed, "and I'm not supposed to do this,
either." She lifted the sandwich from the plate and held
it so Cecelia could take a bite.
Cecelia eyed the sandwich hungrily. "You're not going to
get in trouble?"
Elyse heaved an exasperated sigh. "Of course, if we get
caught. Now, take a bite so I can take a
bite. I'm hungry too, you know."
Cecelia grinned and took the ordered bite. "Yum!" she
muttered as she chewed.
"Indeed," Elyse purred, then took a bite of her own. The
sandwich was quite huge, more than she usually ate for lunch
(and intentionally so, in accordance with Nora and Her
Ladyship's rather sketchy plan).
Cecelia swallowed, then looked around the bare room.
"So... it would seem you don't keep a lot in your closet."
Elyse took a drink from the bottle of ale before
answering. "The 'Maid's Closet' isn't for the use of the
maid," she explained, "it's for closeting the maid."
Cecelia focused on the iron ring set in the wall.
"Oh." Elyse held the bottle so she could take a drink, and
she did so. The local brew was as good as the local
chicken salad. Elyse then fed her a second generous bite
from the sandwich.
"Remember," Elyse lectured as her fellow maid chewed, "you're
bound and gagged and hungrily watching me devour my
lunch. No more talking. If Nora happens by and hears
your voice, we'll both be in real trouble."
Cecelia swallowed her second bite. "As opposed to
now?" She smiled and shook her head, causing her end of
the chain linking their collars to sway and rattle.
Elyse couldn't help but smile, then composed herself, forced a
frown, and held the bottle so Cecelia could take another
drink. "Shut. Up. Now." She took
a swig of ale, herself, then a bite of sandwich.
Cecelia suppressed a giggle, then nodded. "I'll do my
best," she whispered, then accepted another bite of
sandwich. It was a big sandwich (thankfully), and
there was still a lot remaining.
Unbeknownst to the maids enjoying their shared lunch, Nora had
tiptoed from the kitchen in their wake and was listening at the
door, a happy (and mischievous) smile curling her lips.
Elyse was doing a masterful job. Her Ladyship's "plan"
might best be described as vague guidelines and a wishlist of
desired outcomes, more an exercise in improvisation than an
actual plan, but Elyse had risen to the challenge. Probably
because she has the hots for the little Yank, Nora
mused. Understandable. What's not to like?
Nora turned and silently returned to the kitchen. It
wouldn't do for Her Ladyship or the American trespasser with the
short hair to have to wait for their chicken salad
Lady Caerwyn gifted Cat with a complete set of her published
works: three oversize volumes of photographs, the sort of things
Cat usually referred to as "coffee-table books." Jocelyn
then excused herself, explaining that she had letters to write.
Cat returned to her bedroom with her new books, settled into the
easy-chair next to the window, and opened the first
volume. She perused the first few pages... and her
reaction could be summarized with a single word: "Wow."
The photographs in the first book were all black and white, most
with dark backgrounds and indirect light. All the models
were nude, and were obviously fit, curvaceous, and no doubt very
attractive women—and doubt was possible only because their faces
were never fully revealed. Whenever their features would
have been in a picture, they were hidden behind a veil of their
hair. Some photos were dominated by shapely legs, others
by sculpted abdomens (with just the right amount of baby fat),
yet others by dimpled buttocks, firm thighs, toned arms, full or
perky breasts, strong backs, etc., etc. Yes, the models
were beautiful, but the real stars of the show were the
intricate, carefully placed, well-hitched bands and elegant,
elaborate junctions of three-strand, hemp or jute rope.
Cat was impressed. Cat was amazed. Cat was doing her
best to ignore the delicate thrill shivering between her
legs as she turned the pages. Yes, Cat realized she was aroused...
just a little.
In Cat's semi-educated opinion, Lady Caerwyn's bondage technique
was Japanese, but without being slavishly traditional.
Some binds were straightforward, what Cat thought of as
"Western" in style, but most were an exercise in human/rope
macramé. Fusion, Cat decided. Like a
Japanese/Chinese fusion restaurant... only it's East
meets West with rope.
Book two was more of the same, but with a handful of color
photos mixed in with the black and white. Book three was
totally in color. The model's faces remained out of the
frame or were veiled by their hair—but Jocelyn's subjects were
brunettes, redheads, and blondes, and some had straight,
raven-black hair, fair skin, and may have been
Asian. She turned the page and smiled. The model
depicted on the new page had dark, shining skin, and clearly was
of African heritage. Where does she get her models?
Cat turned the page, again, and found a particularly striking
photo. It was in color, like the rest of the book, and the
model was bound with her hands behind her back and her arms
pinned to her sides by a complex web of interlaced,
diamond-hitched rope. It must have taken Jocelyn a very
long time to craft the intricate pattern of entwined
strands. And speaking of the model...
Cat frowned. The photo had been taken mostly of the
model's front, and she was bent forward at the waist. And
she was definitely a she. She had boobs.
They weren't huge, but they were big, especially hanging as she
leaned forward with rope looped around each base—but that wasn't
what Cat found to be so very interesting. The model's hair
was brown and tousled, but through the chestnut waves Cat could
just barely make out a pair of lips curled in a mischievous
smile, and Cat thought she recognized that smile. Nora?
The frown faded and Cat's lips curled in a mischievous smile of
her own. Nora posed for Her Ladyship? That's...
"Well, what do you think?"
Cat flinched in surprise... and blushed. Lady Caerwyn was
standing in the open doorway, a smile on her exquisite
face. "Your books are wonderful!" Cat
gushed. "Really good stuff! Thank you...
again." Cat's cheeks were burning, and she didn't know
why. What have I got to be embarrassed about? she
"I forgot to tell you that we would be dressing for dinner,"
Suddenly, Cat realized it was quite late in the day.
Without realizing it, she'd whiled away the entire afternoon
gazing at Lady Caerwyn's photographs. Cat placed the third
book on the side-table, atop the first two, then watched as
Jocelyn walked to the wardrobe, opened the doors, and sorted
through the clothes hanging within.
"Oh dear," Jocelyn sighed. "I was afraid of this.
Nora gave you only one of my daughters' gowns."
"I can wear the same one," Cat responded. "I don't mind."
"No, it simply won't do," Jocelyn said as she strode to the
chair, took Cat by the hands, and pulled her to her feet.
"Come with me."
Cat followed Cat from the bedroom and into the hall.
"Really. Why not wear the same gown?"
"It just isn't done," Jocelyn explained with a teasing smile as
they climbed the stairs to the next floor. "Why own more
clothes than I can possibly wear without sharing?" she
added with a wink.
As expected, their destination was Her Ladyship's bedroom.
It wasn't much bigger than Cat's guest bedroom, but it had an
attached bathroom and a huge walk-in closet. Cat
was amazed. The square-footage was impressive, and on her
left and right were closed cabinets and rack upon rack of shoes
and stylish clothing for every occasion. At the far end
were a half-dozen full-length mirrors arranged in a semicircle,
and overhead was a grid of several tiny spotlights.
"Why don't you get ready, my dear," Jocelyn suggested.
Cat blinked uncertainly. "Huh?"
Jocelyn smiled. "Remove your bird-watching kit, darling,
so I can fit you with a gown."
Cat's blush returned. "Oh." She really didn't have
an excuse not to strip. Jocelyn's logic was
unassailable. Still blushing, Cat removed her hiking
boots, followed by her borrowed socks, safari-shirt, cargo
shorts, and tank-top. As each garment was removed, she
folded it neatly and placed it on the seat of a straight chair
next to the mirrors.
Jocelyn paused in the act of sorting through a rack of various
satin and/or silk, full-length, formal gowns. "The
brassiere as well, my dear," she instructed, and returned to
selecting a gown for her guest.
Cat opened her mouth to object... then reached behind her back,
unclasped her bra, and shrugged out of the straps and
cups. Again, she had no real excuse not to comply.
The gown she'd worn to dinner yesterday had been strapless and
worn without a bra, and the same was true of Cecelia's and
Her Ladyship's gowns. No excuse. She dropped
the bra atop her other clothes... then fought the urge to cover
her breasts with her folded arms. It's just us girls,
Cat reassured herself (somewhat).
Jocelyn carried over a hanger with something that was much too
short to be a gown and hung it from a rack near Cat and
Cat found herself staring at a brief, silky white and beige
garment. It was a... corset? Meanwhile, still
smiling, Jocelyn had flipped a switch on the wall and a motor
whirred somewhere overhead. Cat looked up and watched as a
horizontal steel bar lowered from the relative darkness above
the lights. There were three evenly spaced pulleys along
its three-foot length and a long, thin, black leather strap
dangled from each end. Steel cables traveled through the
pulleys, forming the shape of an "M." Obviously, there was
some sort of winch arrangement mounted to the ceiling, obscured
by the glare of the spotlights.
"Have you ever worn a corset before, my dear?"
"Huh? What?" Cat's gaze was alternating between
Jocelyn's reassuring smile and the lacing bar—and yes, Cat
recognized a "lacing bar" when she saw one, even though her
previous experience with such things came exclusively from the
pages of John Willie's Gwendoline and the Missing Princess.
She realized her left arm was covering her breasts, apparently
deciding entirely on its own and independent of her brain that
it needed to protect the modesty of her breasts. Also, her
heart was hammering. "Uh... no," Cat responded,
answering Jocelyn's corset question.
"There's no reason to be frightened, Caitlyn," Jocelyn purred as
she stepped forward. "We don't have to use the
Cat couldn't help but smile. She knew when she was being
teased. "No, we don't." With slow, deliberate
(nervous) grace, Cat strolled to the lacing bar, reached out,
and grasped it with both hands. Part of the bar near each of the
dangling straps was padded, with indentations that fit the grip
of her fingers and thumbs. She looked back over her
shoulder at Jocelyn. "Like this?"
Still smiling, Jocelyn strolled to Cat and the bar. "No...
not like that." She wrapped the right strap around
Cat's wrist, three times. "Like this." The
strap gave a quiet creak as she pulled it taut, threaded the end
through its attached buckle, and made it secure. Her eyes
locked with Cat's, she walked to the left side and lifted the
left strap. "As I said, we don't have to use the
"And as I said," Cat purred, "no, we don't." Her smile was
just as coy and mischievous as Jocelyn's.
"As long as we're in agreement," Jocelyn said as she wrapped the
strap around Cat's left wrist, pulled it tight, and secured the
Cat watched as Jocelyn walked to the wall and lifted the
switch. The motor hummed, the cable slithered through the
pulleys, and the lacing bar slowly rose into the air, taking her
wrists and hands with it, of course. She was smiling, but
her heart was still thumping in her chest.
Jocelyn released the switch just as Cat was pulled up onto her
toes. She then slowly, gracefully strolled to her smiling
(and obviously somewhat nervous) guest. "Trust is a great
gift, Caitlyn," she said quietly, then leaned close and kissed
Cat's lips. "There is only one gift that is greater."
"Love," Cat said in a whisper.
Jocelyn nodded. "I promised you that no harm would come to
either Cecelia or yourself, and I meant every word. And
you believe me."
Despite her hammering heart, Cat couldn't help but tease her
hostess (and captor). "No... ya think?"
"Cheeky monkey," Jocelyn chuckled. She looped her fingers
through the hips of Cat's borrowed panties and pulled them down
"Jocelyn!" Cat complained (and giggled) as she stepped free of
the panties. Her cheeks were blushed a bright pink and her
smiling lips quivered with nervous tension.
Jocelyn tossed the panties atop the rest of Cat's clothes, then
strolled towards the closet door. "Just for that," she
purred. "You can wait like that while I enjoy a long, hot
bath. We can eat late."
"J-Jocelyn?" Cat watched over her right shoulder as
Jocelyn exited the closet and closed the door.
Her bonds were comfortable, and her toes, feet, and calves
weren't complaining... not yet, anyway. Nude and helpless,
all she could do was wait until Her Ladyship returned. Cat
turned her face to the front, and gazed at the multiple
reflections of her naked body displayed
at different angles in the full-length
mirrors. Her breasts were slightly flattened by her raised arms, but
still had sufficient volume to bob, just a tad, as she drew
deep, even breaths. She noted that her nipples were doing
their best to point... and her pussy was tingling.
What just happened? Cat thought. And more
importantly, why did I let it happen?
turned into two... and then three. Cat passed the time by
visually examining what she could see of the corset hanging from
the rack on her right. She decided it was off-white
Ercu, sand, whatever. It was made of shining silk and
lambskin, either that or satin and microfiber suede. It
had stiff, curved stays, closed and tightened by means of long,
thin laces traveling through steel grommets, and dangling from
the bottom was the end of a single ribbon-thin leather
strap. There were no shoulder straps, and a pair of
crescent-moon shelves would support the wearer's breasts like a
push-up bra, but would not cover them.
I wonder how tight it will be? Cat wondered. There
was no question of refusing to try the thing. Cat knew all
she had to do was say no, and that would be it. Granted,
she was strapped to "old man lacing bar" and in the perfect pose
for Her Ladyship to dress her in the corset. whether she wanted
it to happen or not. She could kick and swear and
struggle... but all Jocelyn would have to do would be to summon
Nora and have the Staff Mistress bind her ankles and gag
her. Cat focused on the rumpled mass of her panties atop
her bra and neatly folded clothes. She imagined Nora
stuffing the panties in her protesting mouth, then using a
narrowly folded scarf to keep them there.
That shiver was back between Cat's legs. Stop it!
she scolded her pussy. This is serious! Her
pussy's response was a resentful... stare? Whatever.
The thrill of erotic anticipation did ramp down in
volume... but it was still there.
Anyway, Cat continued, if I say stop, it will all
stop. She locked eyes with her reflection and heaved
a sigh. And what would be the fun in that?
She tugged on the lacing bar. And when will I ever
get another chance to play like this?
Cat continued pretending she was helpless and suffering.
Actually, she was helpless, but she wasn't suffering,
not per se. Languishing, she mused. I'm
languishing. That was familiar territory.
Cecelia was usually the one who spent her afternoons tied to
chairs, rolling around on the rug, or, on rare occasions, lashed
to her bed until dawn, but Cat was also a player.
Minutes passed... and then, the closet door opened.
Cat looked in the mirror and gasped in amazement (and
her pussy all but vibrated). Lady Caerwyn had returned,
and she was naked... totally naked!
"I decided to take a quick shower," Jocelyn explained as she
slowly, gracefully padded forward, "rather than a full bath."
"Don't I get a shower?" Cat grumbled. A sly smile
curled her lips.
"I don't think you really need one, darling," Jocelyn purred,
then stepped behind Cat and placed her hands on her captive
guest's waist. "Besides," she continued, "I like my dinner
companions a little... salty." Their eyes locked in the
mirror, Jocelyn leaned to the side and slowly, deliberately, ran
her tongue up an inch or two of Cat's right upper arm.
Still smiling, Cat shivered and tugged on her bonds. Her
pussy was tingling like crazy, ignoring all of her
brains commands to play it cool. "Well... I did spend the
morning clamoring over the rocks down on the beach."
"And the afternoon gazing at my photographs," Jocelyn
purred. She slid her left hand between Cat's legs and
cupped her sex.
Cat gasped, shivered, and bit her lower lip. Her eyes
still locked with Jocelyn's in the mirror, she couldn't think of
anything to say.
"Well..." Jocelyn removed her hand, walked to the rack,
and removed the corset from its hanger. "Let's get you
Cat watched in the mirror as Jocelyn padded behind her back,
opened the corset, fit it around her torso, then reached around
her body and closed the vertical row of clasps down the front,
one by one. It was very nearly an embrace, with Jocelyn
and Cat cheek to cheek and Jocelyn's breasts pressed against
Cat's back. Cat shivered, again... not that she'd ever
really stopped. And as for her pussy... it was purring
like a kitten... more or less in rhythm with her deep, regular
Jocelyn took a step back and began the process of tightening the
corset's laces. This took a while, with the garment
growing tighter and tighter with each iteration of tugging on
the laces and taking in the slack. The corset did, indeed
have stays, as well as the traditional hourglass shape.
The grip of the corset became firm... and then tight... and then
very tight, and Jocelyn was still tugging on the
Finally, enough was enough! Cat felt like she was being
squeezed in a vice! She opened her mouth to complain, then
realized Jocelyn had tied the laces in a bow and was now tucking
the loops and ends to the side and closing a lacy flap that
secured with Velcro and hid the laces and grommets
entirely. The corset was tight, and her reflection now had
what could only be called a wasp-waist, but truth be told, it
wasn't that bad. If asked, Cat would bitch and
moan and play the martyr, but it wasn't that bad.
Cat's breasts were supported by the corset but not covered, just
as she'd suspected would be the case. Jocelyn thumbed the
switch, the lacing bar lowered, Cat's arms slowly dropped, her
breasts settled into the cups... and were pushed up. Wow,
she thought. I have boobs... and nipples.
With her arms lowered, the nipples in question were now free to
point... and they did.
Jocelyn released Cat's right wrist... then her left... then
handed her an opera glove. It was the same off-white as
the corset and its mate was in Jocelyn's left hand.
"You'll need my help to put these on," she said as Cat thrust
her hand down the sleeve-length glove.
"I see what you mean," Cat muttered. There were some sort
of tubes lining the fingers. She wiggled and stretched the
glove and managed to pull it on, but found she really
needed Jocelyn's help with the second glove. The tubes
were rubbery but stiff and more-or-less immobilized the middle
joints of her fingers, making it difficult to do more than
flutter the fingers in question. She left the securing the
buttons at the tops of the gloves entirely to Her Ladyship...
Her Gloriously Naked Ladyship.
"There," Jocelyn sighed, then stepped to Cat's front. "One
more little detail." She reached between Cat's legs,
grabbed the narrow strap dangling from the back of the corset,
made sure it tucked between Cat's dimpled buttocks and
her labia, threaded it through a buckle in the lower front of
the corset, and pulled out the slack.
Cat gasped as the strap was pulled between her
labia. Her gloved and semi-useless hands were at her sides
and her smiling (and nervous) eyes were locked with her hostess.
"That isn't too tight," Jocelyn purred, "is it?"
"The corset, or the strap?" Cat countered, then shook her
smiling head. "No," she admitted.
"I can make the strap tighter," Jocelyn offered, "if you wish."
Cat shook her head, again. "No, it's just fine as—is!"
Jocelyn had tugged the strap one hole tighter, then secured the
"Good," Her Ladyship chuckled, then took Cat by the hand and led
her from the closet. There destination was a dressing
table with a vanity mirror. She settled Cat onto the
padded bench, facing away from the mirror, then knelt at her
Cat watched with a smile as Her Gloriously Naked & Kneeling
Ladyship lifted her right foot and slid it into a beige
high-heeled pump, then buckled its attached strap around her
ankle and snapped a tiny, heart-shaped padlock through the
tongue of the buckle. And just to be clear, this was a very
high-heeled pump. Stiletto heel pumps. Ridiculously
elevated, ballet point, stiletto heel pumps. Cat's left
foot received similar treatment, then Jocelyn flowed to her bare
feet and helped Cat stand. Cat tottered on the heels, her
pointing feet very nearly vertical.
"I realize you're a bit of a tomboy, Caitlyn," Jocelyn purred,
"but you have worn heels before, haven't you?"
Cat took a tentative step forward... then two. "Yes," she
muttered, "I have worn heels before, but..." She
frowned at Jocelyn. "Wait—tomboy?"
Jocelyn chuckled. "A gamine, hoydenish, delightful
tomboy, darling." She planted a kiss on Cat's lips, then
opened a drawer in the dressing table and produced a flat
Cat was still getting used to the shoes. Running in the
things would be an absurd impossibility. They didn't
hurt—for now—but simply walking would be a challenge, whether or
not she was a "tomboy," or to what degree.
Meanwhile, Jocelyn opened the case and lifted a diamond bracelet
from the velvet cushioned interior. She fit the bracelet
around Cat's right wrist and it closed with an audible and
"Oh!" Cat gasped. "It's..." She turned her wrist and
watched what had to be a small fortune in white diamonds sparkle
and flash. "Beautiful!" It was also somewhat heavy,
more a cuff than a bracelet. A small ring dangled from a
swivel-mounting, and while there was a hair-thin seam where the
two halves of the wide, rather thick cuff/bracelet met, there
was no apparent catch, just a tiny... keyhole. "Oh!" Cat
gasped, again. Jocelyn had closed a second, identical cuff
around her left wrist.
There was one more item in the case. It was similar to the
cuffs, with even more of the sparkling diamonds, and
while it was just as solid and hefty, it wasn't as thick and had
a greater diameter. Cat realized it was a choker.
She swallowed, nervously, but didn't object or try to mince away
when Jocelyn opened the glittering collar and closed it around
her neck. "Oh!" she gasped for the third time, then smiled
a rather sheepish smile. "It's... heavy," she said
"And a perfect fit," Jocelyn beamed, then padded towards the
closet. "Wait here while I fetch your frock."
Cat was admiring herself in the mirror. The choker was
a perfect fit, close-fitting without being too tight. She
sat back down on the bench to wait. As long as she'd be
wearing Lady Caerwyn's point-shoes—which at the moment were padlocked
on her feet—she resolved to sit whenever possible.
Her Nakedness returned with a full-length gown of fawn silk then
complemented Cat's shoes and corset. "Up," she ordered
Cat sighed and climbed to her feet and tried not to totter on
the precarious heels. Obviously, she'd need Jocelyn's help
to get dressed. Between the shoes and the gloves (and the
distraction of Jocelyn's naked hotness) she couldn't do it
Jocelyn dropped the sheath-like garment over Cat's head and
pulled it down her corseted body. It was a full-length,
strapless gown, and was a very tight fit. It just
covered Cat's nipples, but at least half of her breasts were
still exposed. It hugged Cat's waist, but horizontal rows
of narrow pleats disguised the presence of the underlying
"It's just a tad too long," Jocelyn purred as she pulled up a
zipper in the back, "which is to be expected. I have a few
inches of height on you." She closed a second, shorter
zipper down the back of Cat's thighs, then took a step back and
smiled. "Wonderful!" she gushed. "Turn for me."
Cat managed a rather shaky pirouette, but was distracted by a
highly unusual feature of the gown.
It was gorgeous, obviously expensive, hugged Cat's body
from her armpits to just below her knees, then continued down to
her ankles. It was like one of those ridiculous outfits
worn by Morticia Addams, only tan, or ecru, or beige, or...
whatever, instead of inky black. However—and it was a HUGE
however—it had no seat! That is, there was an oval cutout
in the back that left Cat's buttocks totally exposed! It
was déjà-vu-all-over-again with respect to Gwendoline and
the Missing Princess!
Cat covered her butt with her gloved hands as best she could,
and blushed, furiously. "Jocelyn!" she complained.
She'd processed Her Ladyship's height comment. This
thing was made for Jocelyn?? That was significant,
but her naked butt-cheeks took precedent. "I can't go
anywhere like this!"
Jocelyn smiled, planted a kiss on Cat's lips, then reached
around and pulled her guest's hands to the front. "Trust
me, darling," she chuckled.
Cat heard a quiet click, tugged on her wrists, and realized
Jocelyn had taken advantage of her distraction to snap another
tiny, heart-shaped padlock through the rings in her
cuff/bracelets. Effectively, the hideously expensive and
exquisitely beautiful bracelets were now a pair of hideously
expensive and exquisitely beautiful handcuffs!
"Jocelyn!" she whined.
"Wait here, dear," Jocelyn purred, then spun on her bare feet
and padded to the closet.
Cat continued tugged on her wrists as she watched Jocelyn dress
through the open closet door. Panties were followed by a
very pretty, mulberry-red, strapless gown, which in turn were
followed by a matching pair of open-toed heels (without
locking ankle straps). Her Ladyship took her time, but the
task of clothing her perfect body was accomplished with
practiced grace. It was only about a minute before she was
gliding back into the main bedroom.
"Time for dinner," Jocelyn purred.
"J-Jocelyn!" Cat whined. "I can't. Cecelia.
Cecelia will see me."
Still smiling, Jocelyn clipped the end of a leash—a leash!—to
the ring in the front of Cat's choker/collar. She then
leaned close and kissed one of Cat's furiously blushing
cheeks. "I have everything under control," she
chuckled. "Trust me."
Jocelyn stepped off... and Cat had no choice but to mince in her
wake. She certainly has me under control,
Cat mused. "Y-you'll have to help me on the stairs," she
"I will, dear," Jocelyn responded. "As I promised... no