Submission by Leigh Heppell  artists & models

    by Van ©2012

  Chapter 5

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Our story continues
It was Madison in the cage!  She was naked, gagged, and tied up—very tied up.

Erin thought she had it bad, locked in a body-hugging gibbet-cage, a rag stuffed in her mouth and held there by a steel, head-hugging scold's bridle, wrists shackled behind her back, and her ankles in hobbling shackles.  But Madison had it even worse!

The redhead's arms were folded behind her back and lashed in a web of hemp rope that pinned her upper arms to her torso.  Her legs were bound together above the knees and at the ankles, insteps, and big toes.  A leather strap was holding something in her mouth, under a taut, wide strip of some sort of milky-white plastic tape.  Her hair had been braided, folded back on itself, and wrapped with tight, neat loops of hemp.  Finally—and this was what was making her predicament the worst—a taut, short length of hemp cord linked her big toes to the end of the braid, enforcing a cruel, chin-lifting, back-arching, and toe-pointing hogtie!

Tears dripped from Madison's eyes, down her bulging cheeks, and across the tape plastered over her lower face as she squirmed, sobbed through her gag, and rocked, ever so slightly, back and forth on her stomach.

Erin also wept.  Why are they doing this to us? she wondered.  What else are they going to do?  The roommates were certainly in a world of trouble, that was obvious.  Beverly and her staff are psychos!  But are they sadistic bondage freaks, or serial killers?  Are they going to torture us to death?

No answers were forthcoming, certainly not from Madison, and not from elsewhere in the storeroom/dungeon.  Erin examined the dustcover-shrouded objects in her line of sight, but the various shapes provided few cues as to what might be under the dirty cloths.  More cages?  Wooden crates?  More victims?  It was impossible to tell.

Time passed, possibly a half hour—thirty minutes of discomfort for Erin and what had to be a hideous ordeal for poor Madison.

Then, a key rattled, the lock turned, and the heavy door opened.  Crystal and Lyndal had returned.  The diminutive brunette with the Lulu bob was still in her Equestrian Bitch costume.  The taller, ripped blonde, however, had changed into sandals and a skintight, sleeveless, and very French-cut leotard in egg-white.

Crystal sauntered to Erin and her cage, cocked her head to the side, and smiled.  "Those eyes," she sighed, then reached up and cupped Erin's breasts.  The fleshy globes bulged between two of the cage's horizontal bars, making for convenient handfuls.  She began teasing Erin's nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.  "I can see why Mistress named her 'Ice'."

Erin squirmed and made the miniscule, struggling movements her steel bonds and the form-fitting cage allowed.  Anger and fear warred in her mind, but she knew exhaustion was probably what was registering on her gagged and caged face.

Meanwhile, Lyndal had unlocked Madison's cage, slid back the bolt, and lifted open the heavy steel grid of the lid on its squealing hinges.  She then reached inside and began untying the cord enforcing Madison's hogtie.  "It's equally clear why she named the piano player 'Fire'," the blonde chuckled.  "She has the hair and the temperament."

Free of the hogtie, Madison rolled onto her side and glared up at Lyndal, proving the blonde's assertion.

Crystal giggled, then gave Erin's breasts a firm but gentle squeeze.  "They're both going to be a handful," she purred.

"Oh, very funny," Lyndal chuckled, then closed the cage, secured the bolt, and locked the heavy padlock through the hasp.  Snap.

Crystal locked eyes with Erin and continued kneading her breasts.

Lyndal walked over and smiled.  "I had plans for the rest of the week," she remarked after several seconds.

Crystal released Erin's breasts.  "I'm done here."

The not captive, not bound, not gagged, and not caged pair turned and sauntered out the door.

The prisoners watched the door close and listened to the lock turn.

"Mrrff?" Madison "asked."

"Mnrrm," Erin "answered."

Suddenly, the lights winked out, plunging the room into total darkness.

"Nrrf!" Madison complained.

"Nrr!" Erin agreed.

Steel scraped and clicked against steel as Erin fought her bonds, the only sound in the light-less chamber.  Madison's ropes made no sound as she struggled, nor did her cage rattle as she rolled and kicked her bound feet against the steel bars.

Independently, the roommates decided to conserve their remaining strength, wait for their captors' return, and hope for the best.

What else could they do?
artists & models 

 Chapter 5
Time passed.

Hours passed.

Madison tried to sleep, but even though the individual bands of conditioned hemp binding her body weren't that tight, the nonstop bondage had become an ordeal.  Now that she'd been released from the hogtie, she was finding that not being able to stretch her arms or separate her legs was increasingly unpleasant, and the cramped confines of her cage didn't help.

Now and then she heard Erin rattling her cage.  That is, she heard the faint, metallic sounds of her friend trying to find some degree of comfort in her tight, upright prison.

Madison could see nothing, of course, other than the weak, meaningless flashes of noise one "sees" in total darkness as the most sensitive nerves of the retina randomly fire and the brain tries to make sense of the result.  She tried to formulate a plan as she willed herself to ignore her aching muscles, as well as her increasing hunger and thirst.  At some point they'll have to take out my gag, she reasoned.  (The alternative was unthinkable.)  I'll be ready.  I won't beg, but I know what to say to them, and they'll have to listen.

Madison squirmed and tried to stretch her bound feet, then relaxed.  I'll be ready, she promised herself... and drifted off to sleep.

The lights were back on and the door was opening.

"Mrrf?"  Madison sat up in her cage, wincing as her muscles complained.

Lyndal and Crystal had returned.  Both were wearing knee-boots, skintight riding pants, and sleeveless tops with plunging necklines, their Equestrian Bitch uniforms.  This time, they'd added black leather corset-belts.  The waist-cinching belts
had three buckles down the front, two smaller ones above and below a third, larger, shield-style buckle.  It was embossed with the elegant "A" of the Adair Gallery logo.  The handles of riding crops emerged from their right boot tops, and some sort of stubby, cylindrical objects were holstered at their sides.

They went to Madison's cage.  Lyndal unlocked the padlock and Crystal opened the lid.

"Congratulations, Fire," Crystal said as Lyndal reached inside and hauled Madison to her bound feet, "you won the toss and get to go first."  She turned her head and favored Erin's miserable form with an evil smile.  "And you get to sleep in, Ice."

Meanwhile, Lyndal lifted Madison out of the cage, planted her bound feet on the floor, and embraced her from behind.  Crystal knelt at her feet and untied the big toe-instep-ankle rope.  She then grinned up at Madison's gagged and tired but defiant face.

"I'm going to set a few rules before we continue," Crystal said as she climbed to her booted feet.  Eyes locked with Madison, she pulled a black plastic rod the size and shape of a small flashlight from her holster, but it was no flashlight.  Instead of a lens, reflector and bulb or LED, there were two blunt copper studs.  She thumbed a sliding switch on the side to the first of five settings.  "Slaves follow the orders of their Mistress instantly and to the best of their abilities," the pixie lectured.  "Failure to do so will be punished."  She held the device before Madison's worried, brown eyes.  "Innocent failures due to, say,  lack of understanding or physical encumbrance will result in light punishment, for educational purposes."

"And because she's a sadistic little witch," Lyndal chuckled.

The sadistic little witch in question favored her fellow slave handler with a wry smile.  "I'll deal with you, later, my pretty," she promised, then refocused on Madison.  "Where was I?  Oh yes, light punishment."  She lightly tapped Madison's left nipple with the end of the rod.


"M'mmpfh!"  It was more a startled gasp on Madison's part than a gagged scream.  The touch had sent a shock through her nipple.  It wasn't terrifically painful, but it had hurt, something between a vicious pinch and a bee sting.

"Willful disobedience, on the other hand—" Crystal continued.  She paused to thumb the selector switch to its highest setting.  Click-click-click-click.  "—will result in severe punishment."

Madison's eyes widened as the studs approached her right breast.  Then, she blinked, first in surprise and then in alarm as Crystal turned and walked towards Erin's cage.  "Nrrr!"


"MRRRFH!"  Crystal had tapped Erin's stomach, between her navel and the start of her pubic bush.  The brunette prisoner's body had gone rigid within the tight confines of her cage and she'd screamed through her gag.

Crystal sauntered back to stand before Madison.  Erin was panting through her gag and squirming in helpless frustration, her blue eyes wide with fear.

Lyndal released her hold on Madison's waist, but took a firm grip on the end of the redhead's folded and hemp-wrapped braid.

"Three or four of those and your friend would be sleeping in," Crystal purred.

"You really should consider a career in stand-up comedy," Lyndal chuckled.

"Quiet, I'm teaching," Crystal giggled, then focused on Madison.  "Severe punishment, like I said, but not for you, for your fellow slave.  Do you understand?"

Her eyes wet, Madison nodded, ignoring the tug on her scalp from Lyndal's hand.

"Excellent."  Crystal thumbed the switch to the off position and slid the rod back into its holster.  She then untied Madison's knees, coiled the knee and foot ropes, and gestured towards the door.  "Follow me, slave," she said, and stepped off.

Madison followed, as ordered, a little uncertain on her feet after the hours of bondage in the cage, but she managed.

Lyndal had released Madison's hair and was following.  She paused to smile at Erin as she pulled the door closed.

Erin listened to the lock turn.  Seconds later the lights went out, once again plunging the room into complete darkness.  A sob escaped Erin's gag as she relaxed her sore, aching body against the unforgiving steel of the formfitting cage, seeking what comfort she could.
artists & models 

 Chapter 5
Madison followed Crystal down the hallway with Lyndal close on her heels.  She was stumbling in an exhausted daze, not really focusing on her surroundings.  Doors passed.  An iron gate was unlocked, they passed through, and it was locked behind them.  Then, more doors passed.  Finally, they entered a tiled room and Madison realized she was being led towards a simple frame of stainless steel pipes.  It consisted of two vertical pipes running ceiling to floor and a pair of horizontal pipes locked in place with adjustable clamps.  The upper horizontal pipe held what was unmistakably a steel collar and a pair of manacles, one on either side of the collar.  The lower pipe held a pair of shackles.  All the restraints were thick and solid with well-rounded edges, and were secured with adjustable clamps similar to those holding together the pipes.

"Nrrrf!"  Madison squirmed and complained as her throat was locked in the collar and it was closed and locked.  Click!  Next, her ankles were secured in the lower shackles, leaving them splayed about two feet apart.  Click!  Click!  Finally—Finally!—Lyndal began untying her rope bonds.  Madison stopped struggling as the ropes melted away and offered no resistance as her arms were raised and secured in the manacles.  Click!  Click!  She was now standing and facing the door.  Her feet were flat on the tiled floor, her arms raised to either side, and wrists manacled about a foot to either side of her collared throat.  Lyndal was still behind her and messing with her hair.  She untied the rope binding the braid, and then the braid, itself.

Meanwhile, Crystal pulled several feet of hose from a reel mounted on the wall, positioned herself in front of Madison, and smiled.  The Evil Pixie's thumb was on the trigger of the nozzle attached to the end of the hose.  "Unless you want a bath, too..." she purred, addressing her fellow handler.

"I'm finished," Lyndal chuckled, stepping to the side.


"Mmmmfh!"  Cold water sprayed from the nozzle and drenched Madison's cringing, helpless body.  Crystal played the stream over her entire anatomy, stepping to the sides, as required, to ensure full coverage.  The water warmed from cold to lukewarm, but it was unpleasant, not to mention humiliating, to be hosed off like a dirty car.  Eventually, the stream stopped—"Nrrrf!"—but Lyndal had stepped forward with a bucket of soapy water and was scrubbing Madison's pale, dripping skin with a soapy mitt.  "Mmm."  The grinning blonde made a thorough job of it, caressing every square inch of Madison's slick form with the rough, foamy cloth.  Finally, Lyndal stepped back, Crystal pulled the trigger, and the water stream returned, rinsing the suds from Madison and sending them swirling down the large drain between Madison's feet.

Towels were next.  They dried Madison's hair—or rather, rendered it a damp, tousled mass of auburn curls.  Next, her gagged face, hands, arms, and torso were dried.  From the waist down, Madison remained dripping wet.

Crystal went to a cabinet and returned with an electric razor.  Buzzzzz...  Madison wiggled and tugged on her bonds, but Lyndal put a stop to that by stepping behind her pinioned body, grabbing hold of her waist, and bracing a hip against her buttocks.  "Remember, slave," Crystal said, "no struggling."

Madison shivered as the merrily buzzing tool made quick work of her red pubic hair—Buzzzzz—leaving behind a short stubble.

Crystal returned the electric razor to the cabinet, then produced a can of shaving cream and a stainless steel safety razor and sauntered back to the watching prisoner.  The grinning munchkin deposited a generous dollop of cream in her left palm—Schurrr—then held it before Madison's nose.  "Menthol," she announced, then slathered Madison's crotch.

Madison's body quivered in misery.  The shaving cream was, indeed, mentholated, and it was sending cool tingles through her pussy and across her wet skin.

"I suppose some degree of shivering is unavoidable," Crystal giggled, "but anything else, and we'll pause while Lyndal goes back to the cage storeroom and delivers a number three zap to each of your roommate's nipples, understand?"

Madison nodded, as best she could, then pinched her eyes tightly closed and continued shivering in her bonds.  Crystal was giving her entire crotch a thorough and detailed shave.  Schurrr.  More cream was dispensed and slathered on Madison's thighs and calves.  Over the next few minutes, Crystal worked her way down Madison's legs, all the way to her shackled ankles.  The cream continued to tingle as the razor slid against Madison's smooth, pale skin.  Finally, Lyndal used a damp cloth to remove any remaining cream as Crystal returned the can and razor to the cabinet.

Just then, the door opened and Beverly and Marta entered.

Beverly was in sandals, designer jeans, and a white cotton blouse—all very stylish, expensive, and casual.

Marta, however, was in a truly bizarre costume, not at all the sort of thing one would expect to see gracing the beautiful, elegant form of the gallery manager.  First came a pair of thigh-boots with four-inch heels.  They laced up the front and were skintight.  Next came what could be described as either a leather harness or a one-piece leather swimsuit with generous cutouts.  The leather was a distressed, reddish brown and the metal hardware was gleaming brass.  It wasn't entirely clear whether the garment's many straps and buckles were functional or purely decorative.  What was clear, however, was that a great deal of Marta's tan, toned skin was on open display.  Bracers—or possibly leather cuffs—encased her wrists and forearms.  Dangling brass rings were attached, ready to be locked together and resolve the ambiguity.  Finally, a skintight, matching leather band covered her lower face.  Madison assumed it was buckled at the nape of her neck, but Marta's loose brown tresses hid the actual arrangement.

Marta held a metal tray in her hands.  Its contents were covered by a white cloth.

"Perfect timing, Mistress," Crystal said with a bow.

"Which of you is taking the lead with Fire?" Beverly inquired.

"We've agreed that I'll be the lead handler with both slaves, Mistress," Crystal answered.

"You greedy little liar," Lyndal chuckled.

"Indeed," Beverly purred.  "Pip, you'll take the lead with Fire."  She leaned close and kissed Lyndal's cheek.  "And you'll take the lead with Ice, my Norse Goddess."

"Yes, Mistress," Crystal and Lyndal acknowledged.

Madison watched as Crystal folded back the cloth covering Marta's tray revealing a fancy pair of steel forceps, a small atomizer, a tiny spray can, two small wire cages or clamps—Madison wasn't sure what they were—and a pair of open rings similar to—  "NRRRRF!"  The rings were like the rings she'd seen piercing Lyndal's nipples!  Her eyes wide, Madison squirmed and tugged on her bonds with all her strength.

"Stop that, Fire," Beverly scolded, "you might bruise that pretty, peachy-pink skin."

Crystal sighed and reached for her holstered shock-rod, then stopped when Beverly shook her head.

"I'd be amazed if she wasn't frightened," Beverly said, then nodded to Lyndal.

The smiling blonde stepped behind and braced Madison's upper body, as she had before.

Crystal picked up one of the cage-clamp things with her right hand and gripped Madison's right nipple between her left thumb and forefinger.


The base of the cage aspect of the device encircled the margin of Madison's areola, except for an open quarter sector at the base.  After careful manipulation on Crystal's part, the clamp aspect gripped the sides of the nipple with tiny, serrated teeth.  Crystal turned a tiny wheel and the cage extended, stretching Madison's nipple.

"Nrrr!"  The clamp was only mildly painful.  More an irritant than anything else.  Madison sobbed through her gag as the second cage-clamp was attached to her left nipple and adjusted until both nipples were equally stretched.

"Be brave, Fire," Lyndal whispered in Madison's right ear.

Crystal sprayed the stretched nipples with the atomizer and a chilling mist enveloped Madison's breasts.  Alcohol, she realized.  She watched as Crystal fit one of the open rings to the end of the forceps.  Obviously, the instrument was custom designed to hold the ring.  The gap in the ring was braced in the open jaws.  "Nrrr!"  Madison tried to struggle, but her restraints and Lyndal held her firm.  Crystal sprayed the forceps and ring with alcohol, then slid the ends of the forceps into a slot in the sides of the right nipple clamp.

"Here we go," Crystal purred, and gave the handle a gentle squeeze.

"Nrrr—M'MMFH!"  The forceps first squeezed the ring, then closed with a quick snap, piercing the stretched nipple and sealing the ring.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Lyndal whispered.

Her eyes wet, Madison sobbed as Crystal fit the second ring to the forceps and slid the tip into the slot in the left cage-clamp.  Snap!  "M'mmf!"

"It's a very clever design," Crystal said.  "The spring-loaded mechanism closes from both sides at once, so there's no tearing of the tissue, and tiny wires in the hollow tips of the rings cross and pierce tiny beads of the two components of an industrial epoxy.  They mix and expand and fuse to the metal.  In two hours, the joints will be stronger than any other parts of the rings.  Very clever."

"And hideously expensive," Beverly purred.

Crystal picked up the spray can and gave each nipple a spritz.  "A cortisone and coagulant gel," she explained, then turned the wheels on each cage-clamp, removed them from Madison's breasts, and returned them to the tray.  The rings remained behind, of course.  "The gel will peel off in a day or so.  I'd tell you not to pick at it, but that won't be an issue."

Madison looked down at her throbbing breasts.  The marks left by the cages were already fading.  The rings felt heavy... strange, but she wasn't in actual pain.  Maybe it's the gel, she thought.  Sore, hungry, exhausted, and terrified, it was less a thought than a drifting fancy.  She was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything.

"I think you better put this one to bed," Beverly said.

"Yes, Mistress," Crystal and Lyndal responded.

One at a time, Madison's wrists were released from the frame and encased in leather mittens.  They closed with zippers and wide, padded cuffs with locking buckles and had steel rings dangling from their tips.  A wide leather belt was buckled and locked around her waist and the mitten rings padlocked to the belt at the small of her back.  Next, her ankles were freed from the lower frame and buckled and locked in leather cuffs with a hobbling strap.  Only then was the collar unlocked and Madison was completely released from the frame.  Lyndal remained behind her, embracing and supporting Madison's bound, gagged, naked, and now almost limp body.

Madison blinked and realized she was already out the door.  Beverly, Marta, and the tiled chamber were behind her and she was stumbling down another of the seemingly endless labyrinth of corridors under the Adair mansion.  "Mrrf."  She marshaled her remaining strength and began carrying her weight, taking the small steps allowed by her hobbles.

"Such a strong slave," Crystal giggled.

"Indeed," Lyndal agreed.  She still had a steadying arm around Madison's belted waist, making sure she wouldn't stumble and fall.

Crystal unlocked a door, revealing a small cell with a narrow mattress on the floor.  There was also a stainless steel commode and a small steel sink.  The Evil Pixie pointed to a stainless steel bowl on the floor near the door.  "Monkey chow," she explained.  "Crunchy on the outside, moist inside, and nutritionally balanced."

"The nuggets are a bit of an acquired taste," Lyndal chuckled, then unlocked and unbuckled Madison's ball-gag.

At the same time, Crystal was peeling the gag-film from Madison's face and lips.  The milky plastic stretched the helpless redhead's skin as it surrendered its adhesive hold.  Finally, the ball was plucked from her mouth.

Then, as Madison licked her lips and worked her jaws, she was unceremoniously shoved across the threshold and into the cell, and the door clanged shut behind her.

"W-wait!" she croaked, then coughed, licked her lips, and tried again.  "Wait, come back!  You can't do this!  You can't get away with it!  Come back!"  She stamped her hobbled feet in frustration.  Her eyes were wet with angry tears.  "People know we're here!"  She slammed her shoulder against the door and screamed as loud as she could.  "PEOPLE KNOW WE'RE HERE!"

Silence.  No response.  She couldn't even hear Crystal's and Lyndal's footfalls in the corridor.

What she did hear was the faint tinkle of falling water.  Madison turned and found a tiny stream of water arcing from a small fitting and splashing into the steel sink.  She shuffled over and drank.  The water was cool and clear, and Madison drank her fill.  Then, she took a step back and eyed the bowl of "monkey chow" on the floor.  Her empty stomach rumbled.  Later, she thought as she sat on the mattress and lay on her side.  Maybe later.

The rings dangled from her nipples.  The gel coating her pink skin glistened like thin globs of clear wax or congealed grease.  She still wasn't in pain, if she ignored the general soreness of her exhausted body.  The mattress was soft and comfortable.  She closed her eyes and ignored her complaining muscles and rumbling stomach... and drifted off to sleep.
artists & models 

 Chapter 5
Erin moaned through her gag in misery.  She had no idea how long it had been since Crystal and Lyndal had taken Madison away—more than an hour, possibly two, but she may have drifted off once or twice.  She couldn't call it sleep, but she might have lost consciousness.

Suddenly, the lights flashed on, a key rattled in the lock, and the door opened.

Erin blinked in the sudden light.  Her captors—her "trainers"—had returned.  They were wearing the same equestrian outfits with riding crops tucked in their boots and those horrible, scaled-down cattle-prods holstered at their sides.

"Your lead, Blondie," Crystal said to her companion.  "Mistress' orders."

"I was there, Pipsqueak," Lyndal chuckled, then walked to Erin and her cage, placed her hands on her hips, and smiled.  "Okay then, Ice, my pet.  Your turn."

 Chapter 5
artists & models 

Chapter 4
Chapter 6