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during the night—Madison assumed it was night—she roused herself
and sampled the "monkey chow." Her stomach insisted.
She hauled herself to her hobbled feet, shuffled to the sink,
and drank from the apparently endless, tiny stream of water
splashing into the bowl. Then, she knelt on the floor
before the steel bowl of alleged food and tongued one of the
thumbnail-sized nuggets into her mouth. It was crunchy on
the outside and moist on the inside, as promised. Maybe it
was the added sauce of hunger, but the taste wasn't all that
bad. She consumed about half the bowl's contents, drank
some more water, then lay back down on the mattress.
The leather mittens encasing her fingers, hands, and wrists were
snug, but with the rings at their tips secured to the back of
the belt locked around her waist, she had slightly more freedom
of motion than she'd had in Lyndal's rope box-tie. That
said, her shoulders were complaining about the many long hours
of her arms being either lashed or padlocked in what was roughly
the same position. "At least I'm not gagged," she
whispered to herself, then rolled her shoulders and stretched
her arms, as best she could, and managed to go back to sleep.
More hours passed, then she woke and used the commode. It
had two steel foot pedals flush-mounted at floor level on either
side of the base. One was labeled "F" and flushed the
bowl. The other was labeled "B" and sent a stream of water
to splash and cleanse her nether region. "This must be the
luxury prison model," she muttered under her breath, "complete
Suddenly, a key rattled in the lock and the heavy door
opened. Beverly entered with Crystal a step behind.
Beverly was in sandals, designer jeans, and cotton blouse, as
usual. Crystal was in her Equestrian Bitch uniform of
knee-boots, skintight riding pants, and sleeveless, V-neck
blouse. Both were smiling.
"Look," Madison huffed as she stood and took a hobbled step
forward, "you have no right to—"
Beverly had stepped forward, as well, and placed her right index
finger against Madison's lips. "Hush," she ordered.
"Slaves should be seen and not heard."
Madison scowled. "You can take your 'slave' shit
and—Mrrf!" Crystal had stepped behind her, thrust a
ball-gag in her mouth, and was cinching the strap at the nape of
her neck, under her tousled red hair. Madison stamped her
hobbled feet in frustration. "Nrrrf!"
Beverly smiled her smug, infuriating smile. "I understand
you wished to inform us that people know you're here." Her
fingers were busy pulling stray strands of Madison's hair from
under the gag's strap. "Tighten that before securing the
lock," she told Crystal.
"Mrrf," Madison complained as Crystal pulled the remaining
strands of her hair free, tightened the strap, as ordered, and
snapped a tiny padlock in the buckle's hasp. Snick.
"Now, Fire," Beverly continued, lifting Madison's chin with her
right hand, "people do indeed
know you're here, and Ice, as well—or, as you would say,
Erin. In fact,
it's all the buzz of the art district coffee houses that I've
taken you two under my wing. 'Have you heard? You
know Erin, the photographer with the blue eyes? She may be
getting a one-woman show at Beverly Adair's gallery.' 'I
heard Erin's been hired as the gallery's staff
photographer. She'll photograph Adair's shows at all of her galleries,
worldwide.' 'Well, I heard
she's going to
travel around the world on an Adair Foundation photo-safari, and
her girlfriend, the redhead, is tagging along.' Yes,"
Beverly continued, "all sorts of rumors are flying. Not
that anyone's all that interested, of course. But yes,
people do know you're
here. I've seen to it."
Beverly cupped Madison's breasts and gave them a gentle
squeeze. She continued kneading the pale, fleshy
globes. Her gaze was on the rings piercing Madison's
nipples. "No sign of any problems," she purred.
"I'll keep a close eye on them," Crystal giggled.
Beverly rolled her eyes. "Of course you will," she
"Nrrrmpfh!" Madison complained, stamping her feet, again.
Beverly locked eyes with Madison. "Are you being
difficult, slave? You've been warned about what happens to
slaves with attitudes."
"She has," Crystal confirmed, and reached for the mini-prod
holstered on her corset-belt.
Madison's eyes widened.
Beverly smiled and shook her head. "No, I think she
remembers. We'll chalk it up to being a sleepyhead."
"Mistress is kind," Crystal said.
"Do something about this mare's nest," Beverly ordered, lifting
a strand of Madison's hair. She focused on Madison's
gagged face. "And as for you, Fire, be a good
slave." She spun on her heel and left the cell.
Crystal stepped in front of Madison. "Mistress is indeed
kind," she purred. "That's the one and only pass you're
going to get today, Fire. One more petulant display and
the next time we see your girlfriend... she will know
pain. Do you understand?"
Madison fought to control her anger as she nodded. You little bitch! she
"There's a good slave," Crystal smiled, then pulled the riding
crop from her boot and gestured towards the open door.
"Off we go."
Madison hobbled out the door with Crystal close behind.
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led Madison to the tiled chamber with the frame of steel pipes
and clamped her neck in the collar. She then strolled to a
cabinet and returned with a comb and brush set and proceeded to
use it on Madison's hair, gently eliminating the many snarls and
tangles. Once the "mare's nest" had been dealt with,
Crystal plaited the captive's long, red tresses into a single
braid and secured the end with a narrow black ribbon. The
collar was released and they were out the door. Again,
Madison was in the lead and Crystal followed. Verbal
commands accompanied by stinging taps on Madison's rump and
flanks from the Evil Pixie-Bitch's riding crop provided
Their destination was what was unmistakably a gymnasium.
It had a high ceiling and an array of treadmills, stationary
bikes, step, elliptical, and rowing machines, and various
resistance stations—the usual.
Crystal led Madison to a treadmill with steel side-rails.
"Up you go, Fire."
Madison stepped up onto the machine, then watched sullenly as
her Crystal lifted four dangling chains and padlocked them to
rings on either side of her waist belt. When her "handler"
was finished, the steel links formed a drooping "X" centering
her over the track. Next, Crystal deftly unlocked and
removed Madison's hobble-strap. And once again, I can do nothing to stop her,
Madison sighed through her gag. The diminutive brunette
had knelt in a position where one of the machine's side-rail
struts prevented Madison from even attempting a kick—not that a
kick would have accomplished anything other than punishment—or,
if the Evil Pixie's threats were real, punishment for Erin.
Crystal stepped to the front of the machine, unlocked and lifted
a clear plastic cover, and began punching buttons. A small
screen flashed and a menu appeared. "All you have to do is
walk," Crystal announced as she selected a program. An
sounded, a motor hummed, and the track began to roll.
Madison had no choice but to start walking. "You'll walk
for a while, then run, then walk... run, walk, run, walk, and so
on," Crystal continued, smiling her infuriating, gloating smile. "This
program is for beginners and has no hill work. The track
will remain level, but it is
a long one. I'm afraid you're in for a monotonous
morning, Fire. If you get too bored, let me know and I'll be happy
to provide a little entertainment." With that "witticism,"
the little Bitch turned
and walked to a set of lockers against the nearest wall.
Madison continued walking. She had no choice. Her
ankle cuffs were no longer connected so her steps were
unencumbered, but the waist chains prevented her from stepping
off the track. Her mitten-encased hands remained useless,
of course, and the ball-gag absorbed all complaints. She
watched as Crystal sat on a stool and removed her boots, then
peeled down and removed her long socks and riding pants.
The blouse was next, leaving the Evil Pixie in a thong and bra,
both of black, whisper-thin material. She removed them as
well, then began a series of stretching exercises. Madison
noted the fair-skinned, athletic little munchkin's crotch was
neatly groomed but unshaven. She had a full, triangular pubic bush.
Also, her nipples weren't pierced. After about a minute of
lunges and twists, Crystal climbed onto a stationary bike and
Functions aside, Madison noted that all the machines in the room
were of two distinct types, those with attachment points and
dangling chains or straps, and those without. Crystal's
bike was one of the later.
The track under Madison's feet was well-padded. No doubt to compensate for bare
feet, she surmised. It wasn't excessively soft,
but something like firm beach sand. It continued to roll,
the chains rattled and chimed, and her ringed tits swayed and
bounced, just a little. She continued walking.
Crystal continued her nude
workout, as well, pedaling and watching Madison's "progress"
with her usual infuriating, gloating smirk.
Minutes passed and Madison could feel her blood beginning to
pump. Then, the machine beeped,
again, and the track began to pick up speed. The screen on
the control console was painting a graph with a pulsing point
tracing a rising curve. Madison had no choice but to
quicken her pace, transitioning into a jog. The track
continued to accelerate, and the jog became a run. There
was a third beep, the
slope of the graph leveled out, and the track's acceleration
stopped. Madison continued running. Now, her breasts
were definitely bouncing,
as were her nipple rings.
More minutes passed... and Madison began to sweat. This
was turning into a serious workout.
Crystal climbed off the stationary bike, walked to a small
refrigerator, and produced a plastic bottle with a stiff, curved
straw protruding from its cap. She opened her mouth,
squeezed the bottle, and a stream of greenish liquid splashed
into her mouth. She swallowed as she strolled to
Madison. "Gatorade," she explained as she tucked the end
of the straw in the corner of Madison's ball-gagged mouth and
squeezed. "Nice, slow swallows, Fire."
Madison was grateful for the hydrating liquid, and was equally
grateful Crystal was delivering it in doses small enough for her
to handle. She put her head back and found she could do a
sort of half-swallow, despite the mouth-filling gag, allowing
the fluid to trickle down her throat. Finally, after the
slow delivery of about a pint, Crystal withdrew the straw and
The naked brunette took another hit from the bottle as she
returned it to the fridge, then strolled to one of the
resistance stations, a restraint-free, not-for-slaves model, of
course. Madison watched as she made various adjustments,
then sat on the padded saddle and began a set of leg-lifts.
Madison continued running... and sweating. Eventually, the
track beeped, slowed,
and she was walking again... and walking... and walking.
More time passed, then the track accelerated and she was
Crystal worked her way from machine to machine, pausing between
sets to hydrate herself and her slave. Madison continued
walking, jogging, or running, as required. She also
Finally, the machine beeped three times in quick succession—beep-beep-bleeeeep—and the
track ground to a halt. Madison stood in her bonds,
panting and sweating, her nostrils flaring and bosom heaving.
"That wasn't so bad, was it slave?" Crystal said as she toweled
herself dry and began to dress.
Bitch! Madison fumed,
continuing to pant.
Back in her Equestrian Bitch drag, once again, Crystal restored
Madison's hobble, unlocked the machine's chains, and led the
flushed, glowing redhead from the exercise room. "Lunch,"
she explained, tapping Madison's rump with her crop to urge her
Madison was returned to her cell and Crystal unbuckled her
ball-gag. She noted her "monkey chow" bowl had been
"I want you to empty the bowl this time," Crystal ordered as,
ball-gag in her left hand and riding crop in her right, she
sauntered back to the open door.
"Wait," Madison gasped, licking her lips and working her
jaw. "Let me see Erin," she begged. "Please?"
Crystal's Lulu bob swayed as she shook her head. "Ice is
enjoying her lunch."
She pointed at the bowl of brown nuggets with the crop.
"Eat. You're going to need it."
"Please," Madison reiterated, but the door closed and the lock
turned. She sighed, stared at her "lunch", and shuffled to
the sink for a preliminary drink. Madison wasn't in an
obedient mood, not by any means—but she was hungry.
|artists & models
emptied the bowl. It was a matter of need, not
obedience. She then decided to take a nap. Why
not? She was tired, her feet hurt from all that barefoot
running, and as far as she knew, her day-planner was free.
She consciously ignored Crystal's warning that she should eat
because she was "going to need it."
She snapped awake when the door lock turned and the portal
opened. It was Lyndal, this time, and rather than
Equestrian Bitch drag, she was wearing a skintight, French-cut,
sleeveless leotard with a scoop neck. Without a word, she
thrust the now familiar red sphere of a two-inch ball-gag in
Madison's mouth, tightened the strap, and padlocked the
buckle. She then took hold of the end of Madison's braid
and led her out the door.
Madison shuffled down the corridor with the smiling blonde on
her heels. There was a pause while Lyndal unlocked and
opened a gate of iron bars, they crossed the threshold, and
Lyndal locked the gate behind them. The journey continued
and they made a left turn. A staircase loomed ahead.
The pace slowed to accommodate Madison's hobble, and they
reached the top landing.
Lyndal unlocked and opened the door, then led Madison out onto
an airy veranda. It was barred on three sides and looked
out on a small garden and the woods beyond. But for a
basket full of rolled, upended mats and a large, flat-screen TV
on a rolling cart, the space was empty.
Lyndal made a sweeping gesture. "The yoga studio," she
announced, then grinned. "I don't use it much,
myself. I prefer the lawns or the tea-house deck out by
the lake. There's nothing like hot-yoga in the middle of a
Madison watched as Lyndal rolled the TV to the middle of the
room, then unrolled a mat and placed it a few yards in front of
the screen. Lyndal next removed Madison's hobble, then
unlocked the rings at the tips of her mittens from the back of
her belt. "Wearing" mittens, ball-gag, belt, and
unattached ankle cuffs, Madison stood and stared at the grinning
"I'm going to teach you several of the most basic yoga
positions—standing, supine, prone, and sitting. In time,
we'll increase your flexibility and give your muscles an even
development. Eventually, I'll introduce you to hot-yoga
and the real progress
will begin." She picked up a touch-screen remote from the
TV stand and began tapping her way through a menu. The
TV's screen flashed and the image of Lyndal appeared. She
was dressed in a different leotard. "I know you'll be
clumsy at first," Lyndal said—the real Lyndal, not the TV
Lyndal—"but try your best and I won't punish you."
TV Lyndal sat on her TV mat and real Lyndal pointed at the real
mat in front of Madison. "We'll begin with a centering
exercise. Follow my moves as best you can. I'll
correct any errors."
Madison glared at
Lyndal went to the TV cart and picked up what Madison recognized
as one of the mini-prod punishment devices. "The promise
of a more flexible and hotter body isn't enough for you?"
Madison inquired. She held up the flashlight-size,
pain-giving wand. "There are alternative methods of
Madison sighed through her gag, then settled to the mat,
mimicking TV Lyndal's pose.
|artists & models
hours later, Madison was all but stumbling down one of the
subterranean corridors and heading for her cell... she
hoped. Lyndal had a hold of her braid, again. Her
hobble had been restored and her mittens were once again locked
to the back of her belt. Her muscles burned from the workout
in the morning and her introduction to yoga in the
afternoon. She found herself actually looking forward to a
"nice" bowl of monkey chow and her soft (albeit narrow)
It turned out she was wrong about their destination.
Lyndal led her into yet another new chamber. It was about
three times the size of her cell and was paneled with what might
be blond oak. The floor was covered with plush carpet and
lit by a multitude of glowing, taut strings of LED fairy lights
crisscrossing the high ceiling. In the center was a long,
narrow table with a padded top. It was only a couple of
feet off the floor and was covered with what looked like a green
Lyndal pointed to the table. "On your stomach, Fire," she
Madison shuffled to the table and obeyed. She flopped onto
its cool, smooth, green surface and settled onto her tummy and
breasts. Lyndal secured her ankles to the bottom corners,
using additional leather straps similar to her hobble, then
walked to the head of the table and extended another pair of
straps. Madison watched as her mitten-encased hands were
released from the back of the belt, one at a time, and secured
to one of the straps. This left her in a loose
spread-eagle on the soft, mattress-like surface. Finally,
Lyndal unlocked and removed the belt and dropped it to the
floor. Madison sighed through her gag, then flinched when Lyndal
playfully patted her naked rump. Whack-whack-whack.
"You were a good slave this afternoon," Lyndal said, "and even
though it was only your first lesson, you show promise."
She leaned close and planted a kiss on each of Madison's firm,
Madison sighed and watched Lyndal stroll out the door. The
heavy portal closed and the lock turned. Its back matched
the room's paneling and the door all but disappeared. Dammit! Her handlers
weren't making mistakes. She wasn't getting any chances to
escape, and she'd seen no sign of Erin. Madison decided
all she could do was bide her time, stay alert, and not give up
hope. She closed her eyes and let her sore, aching body
Minutes passed... Madison may have drifted off to sleep...
but then she lifted her head and focused on the door. A
key was rattling in the lock, again. The door opened and
Crystal entered. She was still wearing her Equestrian
Bitch costume, complete with riding crop tucked in her right
boot and mini-prod holstered at her side.
"Lyndal had good things to say about your first yoga lesson,
Fire," Crystal said as she strolled to the table. "I was
pleased with your first workout, as well." She patted
Madison's rump, as Lyndal had done. Whack-whack. "Such a
You'll be pleased to hear that Ice was also a good slave today. No punishment
tonight for either of you."
Madison sighed through her gag. She surmised Erin had also
had a full day of exercise and yoga, but probably in the reverse
order of yoga in the morning and the treadmill in the afternoon.
Meanwhile, Crystal sat on the side of the table, her rump
nudging Madison's waist, and began removing her boots. Her
socks followed, then she stood and peeled off her riding pants
and thong. "I know you're sore, Fire," she said.
Clad only in sleeveless, V-neck blouse and leather corset-belt,
she carried her boots, pants, and thong to one of the
walls. She pressed the edge of a panel and it swung open,
revealing a small closet. The smiling pixie placed her
boots on the closet floor, hung her pants and thong from a
hanger, then unbuckled her belt and unbuttoned her blouse and
hung them up, as well.
Madison lifted her head and glanced at the riding crop and
mini-prod on the floor beside her table. Crystal had left
them behind. She tugged on her mitten encased hands in
frustration. The potential weapons might as well be on the
Crystal strolled back to the table, now completely naked.
"Don't think I didn't see that," she purred, bent at the waist,
causing her black, Lulu-cropped hair to fan forward, and picked
up the riding crop. She slid the thong over her wrist,
twirled the crop with a deft flip of the wrist—Swish—then delivered a
stinging slap to Madison's left butt-cheek. Thwack!
"Slaves aren't allowed to have thoughts of escape, Fire,"
Crystal said. "It's probably best for you to have as few
thoughts as possible, except for how to please your Mistress, of
course." The crop dangling from her wrist, Crystal walked
to the wall opposite the closet and opened another panel,
revealing a cabinet of drawers and shelves.
Madison watched the diminutive brunette's dimpled rump and pale
back as she opened a drawer and pulled out a towel and a small
plastic bottle. The spreadeagled captive buried her
feelings deep as her "handler" returned, and forced the anger
from her gagged face (she hoped). Someday, you little bitch,
she silently promised herself. Someday.
Still smiling, Crystal dropped the towel to the floor, than
climbed onto the table and straddled Madison's body, settling a
little of her weight on the helpless redhead's thighs.
"Now," she said as she squeezed a dollop of clear lotion on her
hand from the bottle, then rubbed them together, "just relax, Fire."
Madison flinched at
the first touch of Crystal's hands, but soon did relax, and much to her
surprise, she actually shivered
with delight as Crystal's palms and fingers slid
across her back. A massage was just what she needed, and
if a sadistic munchkin was the only masseuse available...
And it's not like I have any
choice in the matter.
The massage continued, and Crystal didn't appear to be in a
hurry. She was also very thorough and skilled.
Madison's back, shoulders, arms, butt, thighs, and legs received
her focused attention. Then, repositioning the straps
enforcing the spread-eagle one at a time, she flipped the
redhead onto her back and massaged Madison's front. Again,
the grinning pixie addressed every limb and muscle group with
firm, gentle pressure.
Madison lay in her bonds, utterly relaxed. Crystal had
climbed off her body and was wiping her hands with the
towel. She watched as her fair-skinned handler returned
the towel and lotion bottle to the cabinet, opened yet another
cabinet and began gathering a veritable armload of leather
straps. They were of various lengths and all were the same
weight and color as her current restraints. She carried
them to the table and dropped them to the floor in a rattle of
dangling buckles, clips, and rings.
Madison remained relaxed as the new bonds were applied.
Resistance was useless, and the warm, post-massage daze was too
good to waste on pointless struggling.
When Crystal was finished, cuff-like straps had been buckled
around Madison's thighs and clipped to the sides of the table,
and her ankle cuffs and straps had been shortened and
reattached, leaving Madison's legs bent at the knee and widely
splayed. The belt was back around her waist and it was now
attached to the table. Finally, a strap above her breasts
further pinned her in place.
wondered. Is she just
being cruel? She lifted her ball-gagged head and
watched Crystal walk to another hidden cabinet, open the door,
and return with—"Nrrrf!"—what was unmistakably a wand-style
vibrator with a long, trailing cord.
"This will help you relax even more," Crystal purred, an evil
smile curling her lips. The vibrator had a rounded,
saddle-shaped knob, nearly the size a child's fist.
Crystal thumbed a switch and it began to hum. Buzzzzz... "This is a
very clever design,"
Crystal continued. There are actually three separate vibrating
heads under the saddle, and a dozen settings vary the power of
each of the heads, setting up all sorts of harmonic wave
interactions and other technical stuff. I'm not an
engineer, but I can vouch for the results from personal
experience." She gently pressed the saddle against
Madison's taint, the region between her genitals and anus.
"Mrrrrf!" Waves of titillating energy washed through
Madison's crotch. "Nrrrrr!" Crystal was moving the
head of the wand in a slow, clockwise orbit... up her left
thigh... across her lower tummy... down her right thigh... and
back to her taint. The squirming prisoner's now flushed
and quivering labia were carefully avoided. "Mmmmmm."
"Yes, it feels good," Crystal chuckled, "doesn't it,
Fire?" She delicately played the head of the saddle across
Madison's labia, then pressed it against the taint, again.
"Yes, very good."
"We'll take it nice and slow, Fire," Crystal purred, "nice and
slow." She continued exploring Madison's pale, firm flesh
with the buzzing saddle. "This is only the first
setting. Wait 'til it starts oscillating between vibrator
""We'll built to a nice, crashing multi-gasm. Then, I'll
let you rest an hour with the wand tucked between your legs on
low. After that, we'll do this again. I think you're
going to sleep very well tonight, Fire."
"Hush." Crystal pressed the saddle firmly against
Madison's labia, nudging her clitoris with its upper edge.
"It's good to be an obedient slave, isn't it Fire? The
kiss of the vibrator is much
better than the sting of the prod. Don't you
"M'mmpfh!" Madison writhed and struggled, fighting her
bonds with her remaining strength. You little bitch! Madison
tried to glare at her grinning tormentor, but she was sooooo tired...
And the vibrator felt sooooo
"Bad slaves are punished," Crystal whispered, "but good slaves..." She
pressed the saddle firmly against the upper labia, and thumbed
up the switch, increasing the power by one notch. Buzzzzz-ZZZZZ...
You little bitch! Madison went rigid in her
"You're a randy slut-slave," Crystal giggled, and returned the
vibrator to its lower setting. "Are you, Fire? Are
you a randy slut-slave?"
Madison shivered and tugged on her wrist bonds.
"I wonder how Lyndal is doing with Ice?" Crystal mused
aloud. "I wonder if your photographer friend is also a randy
slut-slave. I can't wait to compare notes with Lyn."
Madison continued fighting her bonds. Her ringed breasts
heaved and nostrils flared as she panted through her
ball-gag. Her peachy-pink skin was flushed and shining
The vibrator's saddle continued gliding across Madison's shaved
pussy, and Crystal continued her evil smile.
|| THE END
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