||by Van ©2014||
|OUR STORY CONCLUDES
Jodi was carrying a small plate with a sandwich: thin-sliced turkey, Black Forest ham, aged Swiss cheese, lettuce, sliced dill pickle, mayonnaise, all on some sort of white bread with nuts and other stuff ground up in it. The sandwich looked and smelled good. She was fully dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing when she made the armbinder delivery for Libby, before she got soaked in the rain, kidnapped, seduced, and hired as a lady's companion.
It was strange—not the events that had led her to this moment, although they certainly were strange—and not the experience of wearing clothes, again, instead of steel or rope or leather bonds—it was just... strange. All of it. Strange. A smile curled Jodi's lips. Good strange. Won-the-lottery strange.
Jodi balanced the plate in her left hand, being careful not to drop it on the hallway carpet, and opened a bedroom door. It was the far guest bedroom, the one furthermost from Mistress Eleanor's bedroom. It was also Candy's new bedroom, henceforth designated "The Maid's Room."
Jodi had been forewarned of the unspeakably horrific ordeal being perpetrated upon the innocent damsel who was also her kid sister, but Jodi was impressed, nonetheless. Wow. Splints. Cool!
Candy was spreadeagled on the queen-sized, four-posted bed. She was naked, of course, except for the four tight, full-length, black leather splints buckled around her out-thrust extremities and strapped to the bedposts. Also, a strip of black tape was plastered across her mouth and a pink butterfly vibrator was lashed to her hoo-haw by thin black cords tied with pretty bows. Her skin was glowing (was sweaty), her hair was a tousled mess, and her breasts heaved as she panted through flaring nostrils.
It occurred to Jodi that her kid sister's breasts weren't that small after all. Okay, she didn't have a pair of bodacious bazooms by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren't bee-stings, nor were they fried eggs. Fried ostrich eggs, maybe, Jodi mused. She's flat on her back. Everybody's boobs pancake when they're flat on their back, especially when spreadeagled.
Anyway, Jodi noticed Candy had lifted her head off the bed and was glaring at her big sister.
Make that glaring and mewling rude comments and/or suggestions through her pretty tape-gag.
"Hey, Munchkin," Jodi chuckled as she breezed into the bedroom. Munchkin was one of Candy's least favorite nicknames.
Candy continued her hostile stare as Jodi sat on the bed and carefully placed the sandwich and plate on her lap. Jodi then leaned close, peeled the tape from her little sister's pouting lips, carefully folded the sticky rectangle onto itself, and tossed it onto the nightstand.
"Mistress suggested I bring you a sandwich," Jodi explained, smiling sweetly. She then took a huge, deliberate bite from the sandwich in question.
"I'm going to tell," Candy huffed. "You're flaunting Mistress' orders."
Jodi chewed and swallowed before responding. "I said she suggested I bring you a sandwich. Get your own damn sandwich." She took another bite.
Spreadeagled on the bed, Candy wasn't going anywhere to get anything, much less a sandwich. She didn't dignify the teasing suggestion with an answer, other than a resentful pout.
Her mouth full and her jaws working, Jodi nodded at the pink butterfly clinging to her little sister's crotch. She then swallowed. "Mistress didn't turn it on?" She knew that couldn't be true. If the butterfly had remained inert all this time, Candy wouldn't be a sweaty mess.
"Oh, she turned it on," Candy muttered. "Just barely."
"Huh?" Jodi inquired before taking another bite.
"The damn thing vibrates for a minute or three," Candy explained, "then turns itself off for ten or fif-teen!
Jodi smiled as she chewed. The butterfly had powered itself on. She could hear it... just barely. Also, Candy was shivering and biting her lower lip. Jodi continued chewing... and Candy continued quivering and shaking, and she was glaring again. Jodi continued consuming "Candy's" sandwich. It was fun watching the helpless, naked, little twerp "suffer" from the Cruel Torture of the Fiendish Butterfly of Horror (and Frustration). It wasn't arousing, of course. Candy was her sister, after all. But watching her sibling writhe in erotic bondage was no more yucky than tying her down and tickling her 'til she couldn't breathe. It was almost like old times, when they were kids.
Finally, the butterfly stopped buzzing.
Candy stared daggers at her big sister. "The least you could do is turn the damn thing off," she huffed.
"I'm eating," Jodi responded, and took another bite.
"Turn it off."
"I don't know how it works."
"Turn. It. Off!"
"Don't have a cow," Jodi chuckled, popped the last bite of the sandwich into her mouth, then picked up the controller/battery-pack. She squinted at its touchscreen as she chewed and swallowed. "Actually, this looks pretty simple. There are buttons and slide-bars for everything, and they're all labeled." She tapped the screen. "There, program paused." She set the box back down and smiled. "A maid? Really?"
Candy was not amused. "A lady's companion? Really?"
Jodi shrugged. "It sounds like a good gig. I'm willing to give it a try." A ghost of a smile curled her lips. "Live in the lap of luxury, get paid for it, and get to play with all her cool toys? I'm game. Anyway... I won't let her flog you."
"That's so very considerate," Candy huffed. Then, a delicate shudder shook her spreadeagled form. "Poor Libby."
"Yeah, poor Libby," Jodi chuckled. "You've got the hots for Libby. Admit it."
"You should talk," Candy muttered. "You're head over heels in lust with Her Wicked Highness Mistress Eleanor."
"Something like that," Jodi admitted (with a blush). "But the issue at hand is the undying love of Maid Candice for the worthy Mistress Chao."
Candy's response was her very best piteous pout.
"I won't let Eleanor flog you," Jodi reiterated.
Seconds passed with the sisters' eyes locked.
"Okay," Candy said, finally. "And if she wants to flog you, I'll ask her to go easy."
Jodi rolled her eyes, smiled, and picked up the control box. "And if Libby wants to flog you, I'll help."
Candy watched as Jodi tapped the screen and slid her finger. "What are you doing?" the helpless captive demanded. "Just unplug the power cord."
"And what would be the fun in that?" Jodi purred. "I decreased the intervals between 'stimulation' and changed the modulation setting to randomly shift between medium and high. This interface really is very intuitive."
"Jodi!" Candy complained.
Jodi set down the box, smiled, and strolled towards the bedroom door. "If you want Mistress to gag you," she suggested, "just scream."
"Ohhh!" Candy tugged on her limb-immobilizing bonds. "Just for that, I'm gonna tell Mistress you want to be flogged!"
Jodi ignored her little sister's warning as she strolled out the door and closed it behind her.
Candy heaved a tragic sigh. She can be so irritating when she—"Eeek!" The butterfly was buzzing again, and this time it was really buzzing! Candy was glad strong cords were lashing it in place. It felt like the damn thing was trying to crawl inside her pussy!
"Jo-deee!" Candy screamed. "Come back! Pleeeeeze!"
Jodi smiled as she carried her plate back to the kitchen. She knew she could have lessened Candy's distress by letting her know that Mistress would be along at any second with a tray of mini-sandwiches, suitable for sharing with a helpless damsel, and a bottle of chilled wine, but it was fun tormenting her baby sister, and they'd played this particular game for years.
Over the course of the next month, several things happened at Chateau de Vries.
(1) The Hodges sisters gave their landlord the required notice that they were vacating their apartment and moved in with their new employer. They didn't bring a lot with them, mostly clothes and a few boxes of souvenirs, bric-a-brac, tchotchkes, books, and DVDs. All their old furniture went to the Goodwill—back to the Goodwill, actually. They weren't looking forward to scrubbing the apartment well enough to earn back their cleaning deposit, but Eleanor solved that problem. Her housecleaning service descended on the apartment and made it the cleanest crappy two-bedroom in town. Eleanor was a peach!
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(2) A day or two after the sisters settled into their new bedrooms, several packages arrived, all addressed to Eleanor and all for Candy. They contained different styles of maid uniforms, all in the traditional black and white. There were Sexy French Maid, Victorian/Edwardian, and contemporary ensembles. There were also kinky variants of the basic design, including a black leather and white lace French outfit that showed a lot of leg and boobilage. The outfits varied in skirt-length and neckline, but all were unmistakably maid uniforms and all were in Candy's exact size.
There was also a black and white, one-piece swimsuit version. Cheateau de Vries had both a pool and a pond suitable for swimming. Jodi dubbed the swimsuit Candy's "Aqua Maid" costume, which Eleanor thought was very funny. Candy suggested her big sister should shrivel-up and die.
All the uniforms came with shoes, of course—high-button boots, high-heels, and even a pair of thigh-boots. Some had heels that were decidedly precarious, and those particular shoes had straps that encircled the ankles, with lockable buckles.
Candy absolutely and resolutely refused to wear any of the uniforms—not that she fooled Jodi, of course. Big sister could tell little sister was intrigued. Eleanor solved Candy's dilemma by tying her to her bed and tickling her feet until she agreed to abide by the staff dress code. After her Horrific Ordeal, Candy accused Jodi of spilling the beans about her ticklishness. Jodi professed her complete innocence, of course, but Candy could tell she was lying.
From that day forward, Candy wore the "Uniform of the Day," but never when she went into town, only at the Chateau. Sometimes that included some form of restraint, and sometimes not. In Eleanor's opinion, variety is the spice of life, and that included bondage... or lack thereof.
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(3) Libby visited at least once a week, enjoying a pleasant dinner with Mistress and her companion while The Lowly Maid served. Actually, Candy got to sit at the table and eat with Her Ladyship, Her Dorkiness, and Lovely Libby, but first she had to carry all the food and drink to the table.
On one memorable evening, Libby made it a sleepover, and Mistress Eleanor graciously offered her her choice of bedrooms. She chose the maid's room... and the maid. Libby held the pouting, diminutive domestic's shoulders while Mistress Eleanor bound her wrists and elbows behind her back with leather cuffs. Jodi watched. Libby then kissed her hostess and Jodi goodnight and led the flustered, whining Candy to bed. Nobody was fooled by Candy's show of reluctance.
Jodi spent the night in Eleanor's bedroom—not at all an unusual event—and in the morning, after breakfast and Libby's departure, she asked her sister what happened. Candy blushed and told her to "Mind her own damn business," then stomped away to start her daily half-hour of routine housekeeping. Mistress Eleanor's response was barely contained mirth. During the day, Jodi noticed her little sister was smiling and humming to herself more than usual. Go figure, she thought. Candy and Libby.
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(4) And speaking of housekeeping...
Once or twice a week, Eleanor stripped Jodi naked and locked her in "slave chains," steel wrist and ankle cuffs and a collar, all linked by light chains with plenty of slack. She then ordered her to dust and sweep the dungeon corridors for half the day. The once-a-month cleaning service visits didn't include the dungeons, and Eleanor was tired of waging the never-ending war on subterranean dust and cobwebs and decided her companion should do it. During these humiliating (and arousing) cleaning sessions, Candy made regular visits to her long-suffering, hardworking sister, bringing her water, sports drinks, or diet soda. And to gloat, of course. Always to gloat.
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(5) Both sisters "enjoyed" the experience of several hours of incarceration in one of Eleanor's oubliettes.
Jodi went first. One evening, while Maid Candice was in town practicing with the band, Mistress inquired if Jodi would like to see an "Oubliette Chamber," and foolishly, Jodi agreed. In short order, she arrived at said chamber naked, bound, gagged and being carried over Mistress' right shoulder.
Actually, it was a chamber within a chamber, a twenty foot room with a circular, quite obviously heavy steel hatch set in the floor and centered under the vertical cable and clamp-hook part of a hand-cranked winch and pulley system. A small grid of heavy iron bars was set in the middle of the hatch, and opposite its hinge was a heavy iron ring and a hasp secured with a hi-security padlock.
Bondage-wise, Mistress had secured her companion using thin cord, lots and lots of thin cord, but the theme was redundancy, rather then elaboration. She bound Jodi in a businesslike box-tie and lashed her ankles and knees together. Dozens of doubled strands of braided nylon cord established the basic pattern, passing above and below Jodi's breasts, yoking her shoulders, and lashing her crossed wrists behind her back and against her spine. The knee and and ankle bonds were similar, redundant cordage tied in a simple pattern. Jodi's gag was equally basic, a simple cleave-gag, a knotted scarf of off-white linen tied at the nape of her neck, tight enough to make her cheeks bulge.
Jodi watched as Mistress unlocked the trapdoor/hatch and used the winch system to crank it open. Next, the curiously complicated clamp on the end of the cable was attached to the nexus of cords between Jodi's shoulders and bound wrists, and she was lowered into what appeared to be a circular shaft with walls of smooth, featureless concrete! It was about six feet across and at least twenty feet deep, maybe more! Dangling from the cable like a worm on a hook, Jodi sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, squirming and mewling through her gag. Finally, her bound feet touched down on a steel drain, took her weight, and as if on its own the clamp sprang open and released its hold on her bonds.
Jodi's eyes had already begun adjusting to the relative darkness, and she found she was, indeed, at the bottom of a deep, deep circular well. Jodi lifted her gagged head and watched the clamp and cable retract through the open hatch. There was a pause... and the hatch closed! "Nrrrf!" Jodi's gagged scream echoed off the concrete walls. Eleanor smiled down at her captive companion through the grid of heavy iron bars in the hatch, smiled, and made a simple pronouncement: "Twenty-four hours."
Jodi's intended response was another gagged scream, but what passed her cloth-muffled lips was a pathetic whine.
And then, Mistress was gone.
Jodi heaved a truly tragic gagged sigh, then eased herself to the hard floor and settled in to languish. Languishing was sort of the point. Okay, it was entirely the point. Tight (but not too tight) bondage, a cruel (but not too cruel) gag, and abject boredom; that was it. There was certainly nothing to see from the bottom of the "Well of Despair." Yes, languishing in total boredom was her fate... more or less.
Hours passed... maybe three... at least three. Then, Jodi heard a hissing sound far overhead, which became a gurgling sound, which became a pattering rain of water drops!
"Mrrrpfh!" The light, artificial rain became a deluge. Jodi was soaked in seconds, of course, and there was nowhere she could crawl to escape the downpour. Thankfully, the water was blood warm, so she wasn't shivering. Actually, Jodi was shivering, but from arousal, not cold. This was so hideously cruel! Eleanor was a genius!
The shower only lasted two or three very wet minutes, then the water stopped. Dripping wet from gagged head to wiggling toes, Jodi settled in to dry out. She had nothing better to do.
The water returned two more times during her incarceration in the oubliette, for which she was grateful. Not only did it relieve the boredom, but despite her cloth cleave-gag, it also relieved her thirst. She managed to get at least some water past the gag and down her throat. Also, she could position herself over the gurgling drain and empty her bladder with minimal muss and fuss.
Finally, it was over. Mistress used a rope ladder to descend into the oubliette and attach the clamp to her pathetic, bedraggled companion's bonds, then winched her up to the upper chamber and carried her upstairs. Jodi soon realized her period of incarceration had been only something like ten hours, not the promised twenty-four. Mistress had played a cruel trick on her helpless companion, but Jodi didn't mind. A full-body massage, delicious gourmet meal, and shared shower restored her spirits—and the night of sex that followed was spectacular!
Candy's turn to take the oubliette for a spin came that weekend, but Jodi didn't learn about it 'til after dark. That was also when she learned the oubliette was equipped with at least two low-light cameras. Wrists bound behind her back with leather cuffs, Jodi was sharing Eleanor's bed with her beloved Mistress when Eleanor turned on her humongous TV and Jodi beheld two separate views of her little sister, one in semi-closeup and the other from almost directly overhead.
Candy was in chains, a steel belt around her waist with steel wrist cuffs attached, ankle cuffs, and a collar. A ring-gag was strapped in her mouth. It wasn't a particularly cruel ring-gag, but it was there, and wasn't going away. Candy's hair was a tangled, soaked mess. Apparently, she'd recently "enjoyed" one of the oubliette's periodic rainstorms.
"That's what you've been looking at on your iPad all day," Jodi muttered. Her head was resting on Eleanor's right breast as she watched her kid sister languish on the giant screen.
"Busted," Eleanor chuckled.
"I assume you got off on watching me when I was suffering in the Well of Despair," Jodi sighed.
"Well of Despair," Eleanor purred. "I like that. And yes, I checked in on you regularly."
"To leer and play with yourself," Jodi huffed.
Eleanor favored her companion with an expression of profound disapproval (with a hint of smile). "Just for that," she intoned, "you can crawl between my legs and apologize."
"If I have to," Jodi sighed, and followed her Mistress' order.
Eleanor gazed at Candy's helpless image on the screen as Jodi licked her pussy.
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(6) Both sisters exercised regularly, sometimes naked, sometimes strapped or chained to one of the gym's exercise machines, and always barefoot. They also joined Mistress for regular yoga sessions, usually out on the lawn, weather permitting, and always naked. Both sisters found themselves gaining a little muscle... just a little... and growing ever more lithe and limber. They weren't gaining weight, but their bodies were firming up. It had only been a month, but they could already feel progress.
And the massage lesson from Eleanor after every workout was icing on the sweaty, invigorating cake, so to speak.
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Life was settling into a new and wonderful routine for the Hodges sisters.
And then, Eleanor announced that she had decided to host a party, a big party.
Candy clinked and tinkled her way into the kitchen.
Where Eleanor found a catering service that not only provided gourmet food, but also a staff with a tolerance for the kinky and bizarre was a mystery; but the tall, beefy female chef with the pretty face and short black hair and two male and two female assistants/servers were very real and very competent.
Candy was wearing one of her maid uniforms, and it wasn't one of the kinky versions. She was in black high-heels pumps, white stockings, white crinoline underskirt, a black mini-dress trimmed with white lace, with short puff sleeves and a very generous scoop neckline, token white apron, and a white lace cap or bonnet or cloth tiara or whatever you call the damn thing.
And then there were her chains. They were "serving chains," as Candy was serving, and were chrome-bright steel lined with black leather and decorated with more of the white lace. Broad cuffs were locked around her ankles and wrists and a collar around her throat, all joined by light but strong steel chain. All the chains were connected, of course, with the center of the ankle-hobbling and wrist-restricting chains linked to a vertical chain that linked to her collar. She had freedom of motion—enough to mince around with trays of hors d'oeuvres, canapes, and/or crudités, anyway—but the arrangement kept her chains off the floor.
There was one more detail. The garters holding up her stockings were similar to her cuffs and collar, and were connected by a few inches of the same light chain. They were also part of a steel chastity belt locked around her waist, with a vertical panel that cupped her pussy and passed between her butt-cheeks to the back of the belt. The belt was lined with leather, like the cuffs, but not decorated with lace. The pussy-panel, wasn't lined, however, and the damn thing had been cold when Mistress locked it on her. All of Candy's restraints—cuffs, collar, and belt—were locked with tiny heart-shaped padlocks that rattled and tinkled when she moved, as did the chains.
The caterer and her staff were in sensible shoes, black pants, and white, long-sleeve tunics with high collars. At the moment, Candy was the only thing you could call kinky in the kitchen. The rest of the kinkiness was out in the party.
Candy set down her empty tray and the caterer pointed to a tray laden with bacon-wrapped globs of something, all skewered on decorative toothpicks. Candy sighed, but not too dramatically. The chef and her staff were busy and didn't have time for shenanigans. She picked up the tray and minced back through the doors to Eleanor's guests.
Eleanor had explained that the chastity belt was for her protection, to fend off groping hands and signal that the comely maid was off limits. Candy thought she was kidding, but after the guests started arriving and she started serving, hands started reaching under her dress! It didn't happen all that often, and the frequency had dropped significantly after the first hour, but the first time she was groped she very nearly dropped a tray of tiny sandwiches.
And speaking of guests... There were about fifty, male and female in near equal proportions, and varying in age from elderly (like Mistress Eleanor) to only a few years older than Candy herself. All were dressed in formal attire, cocktail dresses or gowns in the case of the women, and tuxedos for the men. Actually, one of the women was also in a tuxedo, a white tuxedo with long tails, but she really carried it off.
The sexes were represented in equal proportions; however, only half the couples were mixed. That is, based on their arrivals and before the mixing kicked into high gear, half the party-goers seemed to have same-sex partners.
Also, and it was no small thing—actually, it was a significant part of what earned the party the designation of "kinky"—some of the guests were wearing collars and being led on leashes by their partners. And most but not all of the collared guests were bound in some way. One handsome, tuxedo-wearing dude had his arms bound behind his back with a leather armbinder. A woman in a purple gown with plunging neckline had her hands cuffed in front. Another woman was in a halter-top gown and was box-tied with conditioned hemp rope under the elegant, floor-length garment. It was of some sort of clingy fabric in a pretty dusky-rose color, and tight enough to reveal the outline of her rope bonds that weren't in plain sight.
All of that was kinky and cool, in Candy's humble opinion, but what really earned the soirée the title kinky was big sister Jodi. Candy was holding up her end with her maid-in-chains ensemble, but Jodi was something else.
As soon as the caterer arrived and started setting up the food and drink (including a genuine champagne fountain) Mistress had "dressed" her companion in the master (Mistress) bedroom, with Candy's assistance. Actually, all Candy did was watch... and gloat.
Mistress had started by binding Jodi's crossed wrists behind her back with two or three yards of thin gold cord. The bondage was elaborate, elegant, and inescapable, with the final rosette knot tied well away from Jodi's fluttering fingers. Candy watched as Eleanor gave both of Jodi's thumbnails the pinch test, first gently pressing the nail until it went white, then watching the pink return, confirming that the captive's circulation was unimpaired.
Jodi had suggested that it would be easier for Mistress to dress her in the very pretty, periwinkle-blue, strapless gown waiting on Eleanor's bed if her wrists were not tied behind her back, but was politely ignored.
Mistress than ordered Jodi to close her eyes. With a suspicious pout, Jodi complied, and Eleanor peeled the backing from an oval-shaped strip of some sort of flesh-colored tape, and pressed it over Jodi's right eye. The thing was like a big band-aid, with cotton padding in the center. A second oval was applied over Jodi's left eye, and she was effectively blind. This was not enough for Mistress Eleanor, however. A narrow satin scarf in the same periwinkle-blue as the waiting gown was tied over Jodi's already closed and taped eyes. Actually, the scarf was a dedicated blindfold, with an oval cutout to accommodate Jodi's nose. Eleanor wrapped the free ends completely around Jodi's head, twice, once from each side, then tied a complex, obviously very secure but quite decorative bow behind her head.
Oh-by-the-way, but for the blindfold and her pretty golden wrist bonds, Jodi was completely naked. She patiently waited for Eleanor to dress her in the gown... and waited... and waited. And Eleanor left her waiting in the bedroom! That is, she abandoned the naked, blindfolded, wrist-bound, and profoundly unhappy Jodi in the bedroom. However, when the first dozen or so party guests had arrived, Eleanor politely explained she was going to see what was keeping her companion and excused herself.
Candy had intended to "help," meaning watch and gloat as Eleanor dressed big sister, but unfortunately she was busy circulating with a tray of stuffed grape leaves (and getting her ass grabbed). Her tray empty, Candy minced to the kitchen for another tray of munchies, then returned just in time for Jodi's big entrance—and learned the gown that had been draped across Mistress' bed had, apparently, remained draped across Mistress' bed!
Jodi was stark naked!
The blindfold was still in place and her wrists were still bound. Also, she didn't want to come, to put it mildly. Eleanor had one arm across Jodi's shoulders and was physically compelling her mortified companion to join the party.
Jodi's arrival was greeted with tittering laughter and smiles, but the guests were all polite and pleasant as Eleanor made the introductions. Jodi, on the other hand could barely talk, could barely stutter, in fact, she was so nervous. Her cheeks blazed with a crimson blush.
Big sister's smooth, lightly tanned, toned and fit body garnered many compliments, many of which Candy overheard. And she was not in the least bit jealous. Not the least bit.
The party continued, the remaining guests arrived, and eventually, Jodi calmed down. The fawning attention of Eleanor's friends (fawning in Candy's opinion) helped, and so did the flutes of champagne the guests kept sharing with the naked, bound, and blindfolded damsel they had all come to meet... apparently.
Okay, Candy was jealous, and furious. Jodi was having all the fun. And granted, the guests had ogled the maid-in-chain's domestically captive form and she had learned that the protection of the chastity-belt was a prudent precaution. Comments were made about how "adorable" and "cute" Eleanor's new maid was, but after Jodi's arrival, it was as if Candy wasn't there. After all, she was just the maid, not a real person, like their hostess, Jodi, and the guests. Candy suspected the snooty aloofness was part of the theme of the party, but Jodi was the center of attention.
And then Libby arrived.
Dressed in a full-length, red, halter-top gown with a plunging back that very nearly exposed the top of her butt-crack, Mistress Chao joined the party. She was greeted by Eleanor with a warm hug and kiss, and obviously Libby was known to all the guests as no formal introductions were made or required.
Candy watched as Libby made the rounds from group to group, chatting up the guests, drinking champagne, and sampling the food from the buffet table. Candy's duty of mincing around with tray after tray actually wasn't necessary. The catering staff was replenishing the feast spread on the table as rapidly as it was being consumed. Candy's efforts were servile icing on the cake, so to speak. Actually, there was cake. Candy had seen it in the kitchen. It would come out later.
The much-put-upon maid heaved a sigh and returned to the kitchen, once again. However, before she could grab another tray of savory tidbits, she discovered she'd been followed.
"Good evening," Libby announced, addressing the caterers. She then pulled Candy into a tight embrace and planted a long, wet, deep kiss on Candy's startled lips.
The staff smiled and returned Libby's greeting, never breaking stride as they continued their duties. One of the staff had to step around Libby and the chained maid whose face she was sucking to carry a steel chafing dish insert full of Swedish meatballs to the buffet table, but it wasn't really a problem.
Libby finally ended the kiss, then clipped a chain leash to the ring on the front of Candy's collar and turned to the kitchen door.
"Hey," Candy complained, "I have a tray of... uh, whatever-those-things-are, to serve."
"Not any more," Libby purred, and led her through the swinging door.
Eleanor smiled as Libby led Candy in her direction. The couple she'd been talking to took the hint and departed for the buffet. "And who is going to serve my other guests if you abscond with my maid?" she chuckled as Libby and her pet maid joined her.
"Your guests can find their own party favors," Libby stated.
"Eek!" Candy flinched. Libby had reached under her skirt and given her left butt-cheek a squeeze that was almost, but not quite, a pinch. It wasn't the first time that had happened in the course of the evening, but it was Libby's hand! A thrill shivered through Candy's steel-clad pussy, but she managed to keep her arousal from her face... or maybe not.
"I'd suggest you two get a room," Eleanor purred, "but the night is young."
Libby grinned. "Agreed."
"What's this thing called the Sisterhood?" Candy said, out of the blue. "A ladies' club or something?"
"What did you say?" Eleanor demanded.
"The Sisterhood," Candy reiterated. "I heard somebody mention it. It sounds like a club, the way she said it."
Eleanor and Libby exchanged a look, then Mistress directed her unamused gaze back to Candy. "Who? Who was talking about this 'Sisterhood?'"
"Uh..." Candy pointed across the room with her fettered hands. "The tall lady in the salmon-pink strapless gown."
Eleanor, Libby, and Candy stared at the woman in question. She was tall and beautiful and elderly, like Eleanor. The elderly characterization was Candy's, of course. The woman in question was fifty-something, and her brown hair was cropped short in a boyish pixie. But there was absolutely nothing boyish about her figure. She was exceptionally fit, shapely, and attractive for a woman of her age, for a woman of any age for that matter.
"I think Abby might have over-indulged a little," Libby suggested in a low voice. "What are you going to do?"
"What else," Eleanor sighed. "Report her."
"She'll be punished," Libby said gravely.
"I have no choice," Eleanor sighed. "It might be a test."
Candy looked from Eleanor to Libby in mild confusion. What are they talking about? she wondered.
Libby raised a skeptical eyebrow. "A test?"
Eleanor smiled as she gazed across the crowded room at the statuesque beauty in the salmon gown. "With Petra La Roque newly in charge of discipline for North America? I wouldn't put it past her. She's been trying to lure me to that new Caribbean resort of hers for months. Failure to maintain good order in the local circle would be the perfect excuse for a formal summons."
"I see," Libby chuckled. "Still, I'd hate to throw Abby to the wolves without due cause, as much as she might enjoy the experience."
"I'll make a vague notation in the chapter records and handle it myself," Eleanor purred, her eyes still on the "Abby" woman. "That should be enough for the Council."
"I agree," Libby nodded.
"Me too," Candy added, gravely.
Eleanor and Libby smiled at the maid-in-chains.
"What?" Candy demanded. "You have a girls' club called the 'Sisterhood.' Big deal. Can I join? Or do you have to be old?"
Libby coughed into her hand. That is, she very poorly suppressed a laugh.
Eleanor fixed her maid with her most serious expression. "Listen to me very closely, young lady. There is no 'Sisterhood.' You've never even heard the word 'Sisterhood.' Do you understand?"
"Uh..." Candy shrugged. "Sure, Mistress, if you say so."
"I do," Eleanor said, then leaned close and planted a quick kiss on Candy's lips. "Enjoy yourselves," she chuckled. "Both of you. Now..." Her gaze returned to the far side of the room. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to have a word with Abby, perhaps invite her to stay the night, possibly the weekend."
Libby and Candy watched Eleanor glide across the room. Halfway to her goal, she paused to whisper something in Jodi's ear and give her butt a resounding slap. Jodi giggled and blushed, and the immediate circle of party guests smiled and chuckled.
"Ya think I should prepare one of the guest rooms for this Abby lady?" Candy wondered.
"If Abby stays," Libby purred, "her guest room will be down below."
"Oh," Candy nodded. Then her eyes widened and she lifted her gaze to Libby's smiling face. "Oh!"
Libby chuckled and kissed Candy's lips, as Mistress had done. "Eleanor was perfectly serious," she intoned. "Forget you ever heard the word 'Sisterhood,' and don't mention it to Jodi."
"What's going on, Lib?" Candy asked gravely.
"The start of a long, wonderful journey, for you and your sister," Libby purred. "Obey your Mistress, keep your eyes open and your wits about you so you can learn, and enjoy the ride."
"I can do that," Candy said, "the enjoying part, anyway." Her eyes were on Jodi, who was smiling and chatting with Eleanor's guests, and quite obviously enjoying herself, despite her naked, bound, and blindfolded condition. "She is such a flirt," Candy muttered.
Libby smiled, gave Candy's leash a gentle tug, and led her towards the buffet table. "C'mon, let's get some food and champagne. I'm starving."
Candy heaved her best theatrical sigh. Champagne sounded good. "If I have to."
The party lasted into the early hours of the morning, and Abby did, in fact, spend the weekend. She learned an important lesson about the value of discretion—and had a blast!
|& The Story||Entire|