Author's Note: This is a fantasy about a friend of mine, wouldn't it be wonderful if she really was into bondage ...

Part 2 and things get a little out of hand. I've got some ideas for Part 3 but if anyone's enjoying this and has any ideas, feel free to post them - let's make Sally suffer (but in a nice way) !

Part 1

Hi, my name is Sally and I live in rural Devon, England, one of the prettiest parts of the country. I am 25 and single, have long blonde hair, a slim body and 34C breasts. I inherited a large Victorian house in a tiny hamlet, so I have no mortgage and can get by nicely on my salary as a part-time teaching assistant at a local primary school.

I have had a fetish for bondage ever since I was a young girl, but I've never trusted anyone enough to tell them that, so I am heavily into self-bondage. My location is ideal for this – isolated, with no nearby houses and a large garden which is not overlooked, and in the middle of woods and hills. I have played out many self-bondage games here without any danger of being discovered.

On this particular occasion, I was having a new septic tank installed at the bottom of the garden – not very glamorous, but true. The workmen had dug a hole for it, about six feet deep and 10 feet long by four feet wide, but the delivery of the tank itself was delayed by a few days, so I was looking down into a deep pit in my garden, and my weird, perverted imagination started to work overtime. What an ideal opportunity, I told myself, for a unique self-bondage situation ! I could get into the hole, away from prying eyes but open to the elements and beneath what promised to be a clear blue sky, tie myself up, have some fun in the dirt, wait for my release and then get out and carry on my day – simple ! Of course, there would be a little more to it than that, there always was with me, but the initial outline of the plan was simple. It was a Friday, and I spent the rest of the day thinking up exactly the bondage I would use, what I would wear, and what extra little challenges I could set myself.

I woke really early the next day and, as I was too excited to sleep any more, got into my running gear and was out in the early August morning by 6AM. I live on the side of a steep hill with a public footpath running up through the woods to an ancient hill fort (just earthworks, no castle walls or anything). I jogged up there, happy to see no-one else was about at this ungodly hour, and looked around for a suitable hiding place for my handcuff keys. I hid them under a heavy rock by the third fence post from the gate into the next field – I memorised the location carefully as I would be retrieving them later, possibly in the dark, as wandering around here during the day in handcuffs and other bondage paraphernalia would be a bit risky, as walkers frequently came this way. I continued my run for another five miles, feeling very virtuous, which would make up for the naughty stuff to come.

By the time I got back, the sun was up, it was already quite warm and I was very sweaty. I jumped under a cold shower, which perked me up, then I warmed it up so I could shave my legs, armpits and pussy – by the time I got out I was as smooth as a baby ! I went downstairs in the nude and fixed myself a big breakfast – I was planning a long day and wasn't sure when I'd get my next meal. I went out in the garden, still nude, to check everything was okay. The ladder into the hole was in place, and I had rigged up a pole overhanging the hole from which I would suspend my release keys. It all looked good, except ... it looked really dry down there. I had envisaged myself rolling around in the mud, getting filthy while I struggled desperately in my bonds. To rectify the problem, I got the hose which was lying on the grass, turned on the tap and pointed the jet into the hole. I made the whole thing nice and damp, allowing a puddle to form just where the keys would drop, then left the nozzle dangling over the edge of the hole to make sure it didn't dry up later in the day, turning the tap down a bit so it didn't flood it and drown myself.

Back into the house and more preparations. First, one of my back-up plans – a note to leave on the kitchen table for my friend Catherine, who always comes over for coffee on Monday morning. If I was still not free by then – hopefully that was never going to happen – she would find the note telling her I was stuck in the hole and come to help me. Catherine didn't know about my fetish and it would be horribly embarrassing if I had to get her to release me, but better that than be there when the tank was delivered on Tuesday ! Now to get dressed up for my little adventure.

I may not have mentioned this but I also have a fetish for tight, clinging rubber, as well as the bondage thing. I took out a pair of black latex stockings and slid into them, pulling them up to the top of my thighs, enjoying the feel of them gently squeezing my legs. My breathing was already a little shallow and ragged as I picked up my shoes. They were black patent leather with two inch platforms and six inch heels, real fuck-me shoes, which were a little painful and difficult to walk in but so sexy it was worth it.

Next I stepped into my black latex body suit and pulled it up. It was cut high on the thighs and was no more than a thong at the back, leaving my buttocks entirely bare. I struggled into the arms of the suit, which ended in integral gloves, then pulled the zip from just above the crotch to the high neck line, so that my upper body would have been entirely encased in rubber, if it hadn't been for the fact that there were cut-outs over my breasts so that they were left exposed and accessible. I was definitely struggling to breathe now as my level of excitement grew, my heart thumping in my chest. My hands were shaking as I picked up the black latex hood and put it over my head, pulling my blonde hair through the hole at the top, twisting and inching the tight rubber down until it covered my face and formed a close fit against the neck of the suit. I turned and looked at myself in the full-length bedroom mirror and, as always, I was stunned by the figure in front of me, transformed from a very ordinary young woman into an absolute sex goddess. I had to tell myself to try and calm down as I picked up my cloth and polished the rubber until I was gleaming from head to foot. I was within a whisker of cumming but knew I had to control myself or I would never finish what I'd started out to do. I took out my rubber bit gag and strapped it tightly between my teeth, forcing my jaws apart; I tucked the chin strap in place and ran the straps up my cheeks to the top of my head, where another strap went to the back and buckled up behind. There were squares of leather attached to the side straps which acted like blinkers on a horse, removing my peripheral vision and forcing me to turn my head if I wanted to see something to my side. Again I checked myself out in the mirror and felt even more turned on as my mouth started to salivate and I had to struggle to stop myself dribbling. I ran my gloved fingers over the few areas of flesh still exposed and felt hot, really hot, and not just from the confining rubber. It took a supreme act of will to stop bringing myself off in a glorious orgasm.

I knew the next part of my preparation would be the hardest, as I squeezed lubricant onto the seven inch vibrating butt plug, spread my legs, pulled the body suit to one side and, bending forward, eased it into my backside. I groaned as it opened me up and then went deeper and deeper until I felt completely stuffed. I was panting and saliva was now drooling over my chin. I caught it in my gloved hand and rubbed it over my bare breasts. Slowly I straightened up and picked up my vibrator, one I had only recently bought, which had a curved shaft so that the head pressed against the G spot, and a special 'butterfly' attachment to stimulate the clitoris – I loved it. This one didn't need any lubricant as I was dripping already and as I pushed it into place, I felt my knees trembling and once again I had to fight to stop myself cumming. I took a few seconds to regain some semblance of composure, before pulling the latex back into place and hiding the invaders.

I picked out my shiniest pair of handcuffs and closed one bracelet around my right wrist, leaving the other open for later. I put a long piece of chain, two padlocks and two wide leather belts into a bag and tottered uncertainly downstairs.

I would be using an ice release mechanism and I went to the freezer to retrieve it. I had a plastic bottle filled with about four litres of water (over a gallon) which had been in there for over a week. In the middle of the ice was a set of keys which worked the padlocks in my bag, tied to a block of wood which hung out of the neck of the bottle – this ensured that the keys would definitely not get accidentally stuck in the bottle and also I would be able to find the keys with my searching fingers once they fell to the ground. As I lugged the bottle out into the garden, I picked up my second back-up plan, my mobile phone, which would go into the hole with me and enable me to call Catherine if I got trapped down there.

I fixed the bottle to the pole by the ring I had attached to the bottom, so it would hang upside down as the ice melted. Knowing it was going to be a hot sunny day, I had wrapped the bottle in aluminium foil to prevent the ice from melting too quickly. I made my way awkwardly down the ladder, my nervousness and excitement rising as I stepped onto the wet earth and felt my heels sink in. The fears and doubts inevitably started to rise and I had to try and push them from my mind as I finalised my preparations. I put the end of the chain around my waist, pulling it as tight as I could before I padlocked it in place, then I ran the chain down between my buttocks, through my legs and up and under itself at the front, forming a crotch chain which could be pulled tight as I struggled. I sat down on the cool mud and wrapped the silvery links around my thighs, then ran the chain between my legs to wrap around my ankles just behind. As I closed the second padlock, I knew I was now stuck here until the ice melted, but I was not yet finished. With some difficulty, I managed to loop the leather belts around my upper body, one above my breasts and one below, pulling them tight as I buckled them, pinning my arms to my sides. Nearly there ! I managed to reach down between my legs and switch on the two vibrators and, with my last bit of focused willpower, twisted my arms behind my back and closed the bracelet around my left wrist, completing my bondage. At last I could give myself over to the intense feelings running through my body and I let out a guttural moan as I toppled over onto my side and stretched my legs back, rolling onto my stomach and pulling the chain tight, driving the vibrators deeper into me. Within seconds I was crying and moaning through one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had, as I writhed on the ground, twisting and turning as I came so hard and for so long I thought I was going to die.

When my orgasm finally subsided I already felt spent, but I knew I had at least another two hours of this. The vibrators had an intermittent function, so after ten minutes they shut off for ten minutes, giving me a brief respite from their stimulation. I went through cycle after cycle, being forced to cum each time the vibrators started up. I hardly moved, except to squirm and writhe around when I started to cum yet again.

Soon I was burning up, and I realised that, with the August sun directly overhead, black rubber was not the best sunbathing costume. I twisted myself around until I could see my release mechanism but there was only the occasional slow drip of melt water, so it was going to be a while and I needed to cool off. I could see the hose pipe was still running and I wriggled and squirmed, inch by inch, towards it, the chain digging into my ankles and thighs and pushing the vibrators further into me. When they fired up again, I couldn't go on as they drove me to another climax. When I had cum and they had paused again, I felt too shattered to move but knew I had to or I would be in an even worse state next time. I shuffled painfully over the ground until I could slide into the pool of muddy water under the hose and I positioned myself so that the cold water was spraying over my head and body. It was a sweet relief and I just lay there, resting, until the vibrators kicked in and tortured me again. My bottom was giving me terrible pain by now, as the butt plug had been thrust much further in than I was used to, and my pussy was aching after so many orgasms. But this was what my self-bondage was about – if I didn't want to be suffering I wouldn't have got into this. My body and my beautiful shiny rubber outfit were now covered in mud, but I didn't care, I just had to lie there and grind my teeth against the bit, while I waited for the ice to melt.

I don't know how long it took but at last I heard a plop and saw the wooden block floating in the water a few feet from me. I felt a wave of relief, but when I tried to wriggle towards the key, I couldn't move ! I was exhausted by the vibrators, which thankfully had run down their batteries, and I had sunk into the mud a few inches and it did not want to let me go. With a suddenly rising panic I thrashed from side to side, sending waves across the pool and after a few seconds I got myself free and could move again. I struggled through the water towards the block but, frustratingly, I kept washing it away from my grasp. Eventually I got it and crawled out of the water.

I have had plenty of practice at unlocking padlocks with my hands cuffed behind me but here I had three extra problems. One, I was exhausted, two, I was wearing latex which meant 'feeling' the key into the lock was impossible and it was more just hit and miss, and three, the lock was full of mud, making it even more difficult to insert the key. So a task which would normally take a minute or two took me fifteen, maybe twenty. But at last I had it undone and I was able to stretch my legs. I spent a few minutes getting some life back into my legs before I struggled to my feet and staggered over to the ladder.

I had previously tried climbing the ladder without using my hands just to make sure it was possible, although then I had been wearing trainers, with my hands clasped behind my back, rather than in stiletto platforms with my arms strapped to my side and my wrists handcuffed. So I was a little nervous to say the least as I put my foot on the first rung. The trick was to pretty much lie on the ladder and push myself up with my feet one rung at a time. To my surprise and relief, it turned out to be not much harder in my bondage, although it was a little uncomfortable rubbing my bare breasts against the rungs as I shuffled up. Pretty soon I was at the top and was able to slide off the top of the ladder and onto the grass. I had escaped !

When I'd had a few minutes rest to get my breath back, I went to the house and into the kitchen. It was four in the afternoon, which meant I'd been at it for at least five hours, but it was still far too light for me to go out and retrieve the handcuff keys. I cursed myself for overextending the session, while secretly I was enjoying the thought of the extra time in bondage and discomfort – maybe I'm a masochist too ! Now I had several hours to kill and, as I was thoroughly exhausted, a nap seemed a good idea. However, I was filthy and didn't want to mess up the sofa or the beds by lying on them. Instead, I went to the shed in the garden and dragged out the seat cushions for the garden furniture, arranged them on the lawn as best I could, and lay down. Within minutes I was asleep.

When I woke up it was dark. It was a warm, still summer evening and, although I was stiff and aching all over my body, I felt refreshed by my sleep. I decided it was dark enough to risk going up the hill and I set off immediately. At my gate, I crouched down, looking this way and that, listening for the slightest sound. Satisfied no-one was around, I slipped out of the gate and headed along the path towards the ancient monument. I heard an owl hooting in the trees but not much else. It was an uneventful journey and I found the rock I'd hidden the keys under fairly easily in the dark. Lifting it was rather more difficult than I had anticipated, with my wrists cuffed and arms immobilised it was almost impossible to get any leverage on it to roll it away. Several times I had to stop to catch my breath and try and think of another way to come at it. I began to think that, after all I'd had to go through, I was going to fail at the last. I finally got it to move by sitting with my back to the rock, fingers underneath it, with my legs spread and my stilettos digging into the ground. I was able to move it just enough to retrieve the keys and I let out a groan of relief.

I am pretty adept at undoing cuffs behind my back and I soon had them undone. I unbuckled the belts and lay on my back with arms and legs splayed, enjoying the freedom. The first thing I had to do was ease that monstrous plug out of my butt, which was a pain and a relief at the same time. I took off the gag and the shoes, too, to give me some respite. Gathering up my gear, I trotted back down the hill to the house and, once safely inside, stripped off the rubber, eased the vibrator out of my sore pussy, and poured myself a big glass of wine. Another bondage session successfully completed ! This had not only given me many orgasms already, it would be in my dreams for a long time. I was just about to head off to a well-earned soak in a hot bath, when I remembered my note on the table. Picking it up to throw it in the bin, I noticed some extra writing and, with a growing feeling of panic, I read the following:

Sally,
Popped over to see you but you were tied up – or was it chained up ??! Anyway, see you on Monday as usual if you're free (and even if you're not !).
Catherine

Oh my God, I thought, I've been found out ! I went bright red in embarrassment, even though no-one was there to see. Everyone will know ! I'll be a social outcast ! I'll lose my job ! As I thought a bit more about it, I realised a number of things – one, she hadn't freaked out, two, she hadn't stopped me, and three, she hadn't freed me. I thought about her watching me struggle, bound, gagged, in rubber, and a familiar feeling of excitement started to rise. Maybe this wouldn't be the total disaster I'd first thought …


Part 2 (added: 10/17/2010)

The time until Monday morning seemed to drag by, with me in a constant state of nervous anxiety. What would I say to her, how could I explain my behaviour without coming across as a sick pervert ? Could I make up a lie ? How did you come up with a reasonable explanation for being handcuffed and chained at the bottom of a hole – a phantom attacker did it ? The note, the ice, the fact that I escaped all showed that to be a lie. As the time approached I felt physically sick.

And then there she was. Catherine is nearly forty, but looks after herself despite having two twenty-year old children – a classic yummy mummy (or MILF, if you prefer). That day she was dressed in tight jeans and high heels, which showed off her nice legs and tight arse, belted at her slender waist and a tight white T-shirt stretched over her ample breasts – quite over-dressed for our usual Monday coffee (I was in the more usual loose fitting long skirt and blouse, with flat shoes. I also noticed she was wearing more make-up and jewellery than was usual as she swept into the kitchen with a broad smile and talking some inconsequential nonsense about the approaching village fete.

Catherine used to work in London before she and her husband moved to the country a couple of years previously, barging into village life and taking over, as people used to a faster pace often do. They were well off – Derek had been something well-paid in the city before 'retiring' here at forty five, now doing consultancy and having a few directorships. She had introduced herself to me a few days after they arrived and never given me a chance to refuse her friendship, even if I'd wanted to.

She was looking at me expectantly and I realised I had missed something important as I fretted about the subject were weren't discussing.

"Sorry, what did you say ?" She smiled at my discomfort.

"I said I've got something to show you on the Internet, if you're interested". Oh boy, is it a new jam-making recipe or a village fete website she'd signed up to, I wondered as I brought in my laptop. She tapped away for a minute and then turned the computer to face me. Suddenly my heart was racing as I saw a picture of me, in my rubber, in the hole, chained and cuffed. I stared at the picture, my mind a blank, until it eventually started to unfreeze. How had she downloaded this photo, which she had obviously taken on Saturday as I lay there, unable to see her because of the blinkers, onto my computer ? I took in the rest of the screen and realised to my even greater horror that this was a website, with the name www.devonbondagegirl.com.

"That's right" she said as she saw the look on my face, "You're an Internet porn star ! I only set this up yesterday and there are no tags to bring anyone here, but some clever people have discovered you already". She leaned over and scrolled down and I saw that there were more, lots more, pictures of me. At the bottom of the page there was a counter and it read "000153".

"Please, you've got to take it down !" I said desperately.

"Oh don't worry, nobody can tell its you. Its wholly anonymous – at the moment" I heard the unspoken threat and looked at her smiling face.

"What do you want from me ?" I asked with a mixture of suspicion and fear.

"Well, for starters I'd like to know more about your little hobby. I'd like to see your bondage equipment". I couldn't take this in, what was happening ?

"Now !" she said as I hesitated, and although she was still smiling there was a steely look in her eyes. As if in a daze, I meekly led her up to my bedroom and opened the blanket box where I kept everything.

"Lay it out on the bed for me, so I can see it better". I did so, laying out padlocks, chains, ropes, handcuffs, belts and gags – I was a little surprised at how much I had accumulated over the years.

"Nice – but what about sex toys, I'm sure you have a few of those !" Reluctantly, I opened a drawer and took out the various vibrators, dildos and butt plugs I owned and put those on the bed.

"Wow, impressive !" she said. "What about clothes ? I know you're into rubber in a big way, let's see your collection". Feeling sick with embarrassment, I went into another blanket box and started to unload that – as well as the stuff I had been wearing on Saturday, there were several additional pairs of stockings, some crotchless panties, latex opera gloves, a mini-skirt and a sleeveless top. By the time I had put them all out, the bed was covered.

"Hang on, I'll be back in a second" she said and disappeared downstairs. I wanted to cry but realised that, despite everything, just handling the latex had turned me on. Just looking at everything laid out was exciting. Catherine was back less than a minute later and she was carrying her digital camera.

"A snap for the website of you and your stuff" she said, putting the camera to her face and pointing it at me.

"No !" I squealed, "You can't ! I'll be recognised !"

"Hmm, you're right" she mused, as if it hadn't occurred to her. "I'll tell you what. If you put your hood on, you'll be okay. But if you do that, you need to take off your clothes first"

"What ?" I said, just too frightened and confused to understand.

"Simple – stay as you are and I take a picture of schoolteacher Sally with her kinky gear, or strip and I take a picture of Devon bondage girl ready for a session".

Now I understood. I picked up my latex hood, but Catherine said sternly "clothes off first, hood second". My hands were shaking as I unfastened the buttons of my blouse and pulled it off, then loosened my skirt and let it slide to the floor. I looked imploringly at Catherine but she motioned for me to continue, and I slowly removed my bra, covering my breasts with an arm, until I realised I needed both to pull down my knickers and she'd already photographed by boobs anyway. As I kicked off my panties, I grabbed the hood and pulled it quickly over my head. As I did so there was a flash and I realised she had taken her first picture – it wasn't the last. I tried to cover my nakedness but she made me kneel down in front and spread my arms along the edge of the bed, fully exposing myself. After snapping a dozen posed shots, Catherine put down the camera and started to examine the bondage items with more interest.

"Put this on for me, would you ?" she said as she held out my ball gag with head harness, one of my favourites.

"Oh please don't make me do this" I begged in total embarrassment at the situation.

"Well, if you're not happy, that's fine. A quick email to the chairman of governors with a link to your site, updated with your name and address, should give him a clue what sort of person he has working in his school".

"You wouldn't !" I exclaimed, genuinely shocked.

"Try me" she said sternly, holding out the gag. Reluctantly I took it, admitting defeat. I pushed the ball into my mouth and fastened the straps around my face, under my chin and over my head. Catherine came closer and, with a cruel smile, ran her fingers over the ball and my lips.

"That's better. The sooner you learn to obey my commands, the better". She turned her attention to the chains and handcuffs, before selecting a length of white rope and walking around behind me.

"Put your hands behind your back", she barked, all pretence of this being a game or a bit of fun now dropped. As I did so, she wrapped the rope around them, knotting it tight and then synching between my wrists until there was little room for movement and, when I twisted and struggled, it was clear she had done an efficient job – I would never break free. I felt her wrap the rope around my elbows and start to pull it tight, forcing my arms closer together. I let out an alarmed cry as she yanked on the rope until my elbows were only inches apart, before tying it and again synching it. It felt like my shoulders were about to pop out of their sockets.

"We'll be able to work on that so you're supple enough to have your arms fully pinned together". The thought of 'working on it' filled me with dread but I had no time to contemplate that as she wrapped more rope around my body, pinning my arms and squashing my breasts. She then tied rope around my waist and passed it between my legs as a crotch rope, pulling it so tight before tying it off that it pressed painfully against my clitoris as it cut between my pussy lips.

"There, don't you look a picture ?" she said, then proved it by taking several of me, making me bend over and spread my legs so she could get a good shot of the crotch rope with my bound hands wriggling uselessly above it. I felt sick with shame that these photos would be displayed to the world, but at the same time, the feel of the ropes digging into me and the humiliation of my position were inexorably turning me on. I felt afraid and confused as Catherine roughly led me into the bathroom. At her prompting, I awkwardly stepped into the empty bath and sat down on the cold porcelain. At her orders, I struggled to lie down and twist around until I was lying on my stomach with the lower half of my legs bent up behind me. She grabbed my ankles and wrapped rope around them, tying them across each other, which forced my knees apart against the sides of the bath. I felt her applying more rope and then my head was snapped back as she tied my ankles to the D-ring on the top of my head harness and pulled it shorter until my ankles were only a foot or so from my head. I was struggling to breathe as the stretching of my neck restricted my airway and the fact that my weight was now all pressing down on my stomach and chest. I hardly noticed Catherine wandering around me taking pictures from every possible angle. I could feel beads of sweat breaking out on my brow as every muscle in my body was strained by the strict bondage.

"Oh dear", I heard Catherine say with mock concern, "You're getting all hot and bothered. This will soon cool you down". Suddenly there was a jet of ice cold water in my face and I was struggling even more to breathe as the water seeped around the ball gag and started to fill my mouth. Meanwhile I could hear water rushing into the bath as she also turned on the cold water tap at full blast. I realised that when I'd had a 'cold' shower before, I had never had it really cold as it was now, every drop stinging me like a needle. I could feel the water rising rapidly around me, inching up my prone body until it was lapping at my chin, and still I could hear the water rushing in. As the water started to cover my lower lip and half the red ball in my mouth, the taps were finally turned off, leaving me having to clamp my lips against the ball and breathe only through my nose.

As I strained to look up, I saw Catherine sitting on the edge of the bath, her hand trailing in the water and then cupping it and letting it dribble down my face.

"There, comfortable now ?" she asked rhetorically. "I've just got a few things to do. I'll be back later to see how you're getting on". I struggled to scream No! at her, but only succeeded in starting waves pushing the water over my face and making me swallow a mouthful. Catherine disappeared from my view and I heard the bathroom door shut and I was alone. I panicked and tried to break free of my bonds, even though I knew it was hopeless, but I quickly stopped as I realised that with any movement I risked drowning myself.

I don't know how long she left me there but it was hours rather than minutes. I was freezing cold and couldn't relax for a moment as my muscles were held under such tension by the ropes, and I had to keep biting down on the ball gag to prevent water running down my throat. I felt myself starting to become a little delirious as I lay there, wondering how something I had enjoyed so much had so quickly turned into such a nightmare.

I snapped back to reality when I heard a noise downstairs and then the bathroom door opened and she was back.

"Still here then ?" she joked humourlessly. "Do you want to get out ?" I couldn't say yes or nod my head, I just made some vague noise to convey how much I wanted to get out.

She cut the rope between my head and feet, the result of which was that my legs fell backwards and my head fell forwards, into the water. My body was so stiff I could hardly move and I couldn't get my head out of the water, which was now going up my nose and down my throat. I kicked wildly and desperately as everything started to become dark and my lungs were bursting. Just as I was about to pass out I managed to twist my body sufficiently to raise my head and coughing, spluttering and gasping for breath, I broke the surface. Catherine cut the rope around my ankles and told me to get out, seeming not to notice or care about my distressed state. I hauled myself over the side of the bath and lay on the floor like a landed fish.

She untied my arms and I was finally able to stretch and get some circulation going again. The rope burns on my wrists and arms were quite vivid and as I rubbed them I realised that if I wanted to go out today, I would have to wear long sleeves to cover them up.

"I'm busy for the rest of the day, so I'll leave you to sort yourself out", Catherine said, leaning over my prone body, "But here's something to remind you of your new position in life". As she said this she grabbed my hands and closed the bracelets of a pair of handcuffs around my wrists in front of me. I looked up at her in confusion, saying "What's going on ?" around the gag.

"Ciao, see you in the morning" she said with a little wave, and then she was gone. I stared at the cuffs and twisted my arms this way and that, as though that was going to make any difference. I heard her leave the house and realised I was on my own with this problem. My first priority was to remove the gag, which was making my jaw ache, and it was a huge relief when I managed to unbuckle the harness and pop the ball out. I also pulled off the hood, which was making my scalp sweat. Next was to get out of the handcuffs, but when I went into my bedroom, all my toys, including the other sets of handcuffs and, crucially, all the keys, had gone. I checked drawers, cupboards and boxes but they were nowhere to be found, and I had to conclude that Catherine had taken them all and I was stuck in the cuffs until she freed me.

I had to cut off the crotch rope with a kitchen knife and then I faced the problem of getting dressed. I was able to pull on a pair of track pants and trainers quite easily but, of course, I couldn't put a top on with my wrists cuffed. In the end, the only thing I could find to wear which didn't have sleeves or straps was a boob tube, so I looked a little odd, as if the handcuffs weren't bad enough.

I made myself something to eat, as it was now early evening and I hadn't eaten since breakfast, then sat down to try and work out what I was going to do about the situation I found myself in. Clearly, Catherine intended to make the most of this opportunity – but I didn't really know why she was doing it, was it to punish me, teach me a lesson or was it something else, something darker ? I needed more information and the only place I thought I might find it was on that website she had shown me earlier.

I called it up and was shocked by what I found. The site had been updated and now opened with a close-up of my face, albeit hidden behind the latex mask but it was clear and detailed, not just a grainy shot in the distance, as before. Underneath this was some text, which I read with increasing dismay:

Hi, I'm Devon bondage girl, welcome to my site. I recently became the plaything of Mistress Kat and she has created this site so that you can all share in my love of bondage and submission. My Mistress will post updates here whenever she can, so check back frequently. Maybe one day I'll have the courage to tell you my real name and I can stop hiding behind this mask. In the meantime, please enjoy.

The threat of exposure in the message was clear, but the way Catherine had called herself my 'Mistress' and me her 'plaything' was even more frightening – it was obvious the relationship she intended to impose on me, one in which she was the clear dominant and I the reluctant submissive.

Below the message were three links with thumbnail pictures, labelled 'In A Hole', 'My Toy Collection' and 'In The Bath' and I noticed that the counter had jumped to '014294'. I followed each to find a matrix of thumbnail pictures behind them, showing me in the various situations. I checked each picture carefully to see if my identity or the identity of my house was revealed, but they were thankfully anonymous. As I browsed the pictures, I found myself becoming aroused by the views of me in tight bondage and I remembered how good the ropes had felt, cutting into me and rubbing against my skin as I struggled vainly against them. My hands moved down between my thighs and then I was fingering myself, bringing myself to a noisy climax as I stared at my frightened face behind the hood, my lips stretched tight around the ball gag, which was slick with my saliva. When I was done I slumped across the computer and sobbed quietly, utterly devoid of ideas how I was going to escape. I went to bed miserable that night, my head spinning as I tried to work out what to do, but every time I thought about being tied up by Catherine I found my fingers in my pussy, working me to another climax. I did not sleep well, and my dreams were all of bondage and imprisonment.

The next morning I felt like shit but I had decided I needed to confront Catherine and stop this once and for all. I waited nervously for her to arrive and then showed her in.

"Ah, I see you've checked out the updates to the website", she said, indicating the laptop on the table.

"Catherine, we have to talk –" I started but she held up a finger.

"From now on you must address me as 'Mistress Kat' or 'Mistress'. You have to understand and accept your place".

"Catherine, I don't like this, you have to unlock these –" This time I was stopped by a slap across the face, the force of which knocked me sideways against the wall.

"I don't have to do anything !" she screamed into my face. "You still don't get it, do you ? I own you ! If you don't do what I say, I will destroy you ! It would take me a matter of minutes to add your name and address to this website and email a link to everyone at school, everyone in the village, all your friends, even Devon Life ! Now get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness !" Stunned, I sank to my knees in front of her and mumbled at the floor.

"I can't hear you !" she shouted.

"Please forgive me, Mistress" I repeated more loudly. She smiled down at me and ruffled my hair like I was a child.

"You're young and all this is new to you, I'll forgive you – this time" she said patronisingly. "Now you need to get changed, we have a busy day ahead of us". I stood up and she unlocked the handcuffs. I was just about to go upstairs when she called out.

"Wear that rubber skirt and top. And those shoes you wore on Saturday". I had never worn any of them in public before, but I had no choice and a few minutes later I came downstairs, dressed in black latex. Catherine did not look pleased.

"Did I tell you to put on underwear ? Take it off !" I slipped my bra off and pulled down my knickers, trying to lower the hem of the skirt to cover my privates.

Catherine had brought her open-top sports car and I got in, but then she reached over me and clicked a handcuff bracelet around my right wrist. Grabbing my other wrist she pulled both arms above my head and locked them together through the metal arch of the head restraint behind me. I looked on aghast as she calmly got into the driver's seat and set off slowly through the village. I frantically tried to cover the cuffs with my hands and act casual as we drove past a number of pedestrians but I could do nothing to hide the glistening black latex through which my nipples were clearly visible. I got a few curious looks before we were out into the open country. After a while we joined the motorway and I guessed we were heading for Bristol, the nearest big city, where at least the chances of anyone recognising me were minimal. Every time we passed a truck, Catherine sounded her horn, which made the driver look down on my rubber-clad figure in surprise and delight, drawing a responding hoot of appreciation.

At last we reached the city and Catherine parked in a multi-storey car park. She released me, putting the handcuffs in her handbag, then led me out into the shopping centre. I blushed bright red as I felt eyes on me from every direction, women barely disguising their disgust while the men ogled me openly and I heard a couple of wolf whistles as well as laughs and whispered comments. We stopped outside a hair salon and Catherine grabbed my arm.

"We're going in here and you are not to say a word in there, not one, understand ?" I nodded my head.

"Answer me properly" she hissed.

"Yes ... Mistress, I understand" I whispered reluctantly. We went inside and waited for the manager to come over.

"Hi" Catherine said, "I have an appointment ? My friend wishes to have a drastic change of image, I hope you can help". I looked at her in astonishment as the manager called over a stylist and they discussed what they would do to my hair !

"I think she needs something totally different, a new look", Catherine said airily. The stylist seemed to accept that I had no say in this and showed a book of styles to Catherine, from which she selected one, making sure I did not see. Ten minutes later, she was sipping a cappuccino and my beautiful long blonde hair was all over the floor.

I'll admit that she did a good job, highlighting and lowlighting what was left of my hair, which had been cropped into a pageboy cut, with my ears exposed and the hair off my neck, but I was devastated, I hadn't had my hair this short since I was eight ! I felt even more conspicuous when we went back into the shopping centre, but Catherine showed no sympathy.

"Cheer up", she said, "It will be so much easier to wear your hood with all that hair gone. See how I'm thinking of your comfort !" I tottered along on my heels behind her as she strode purposefully on. I realised I was totally reliant on her at this point, as she had not allowed me to bring any credit cards or money, I didn't even have my mobile phone. So I followed along behind her, like a child, unable to make my own decisions or choices.

We went into a bar in the city centre which was crowded with office workers having finished their day and relaxing, men in suits who looked around when we came in and stared at me as we pushed our way through to a small table and sat down. Catherine handed me a ten pound note and told me to go to the bar.

"I'll have a double G&T and you'll have a pint glass of tap water" she ordered. I had to push my way to the bar and I soon found that guys weren't moving out of the way, they were just leering at me and making me squeeze myself against them to get by. I finally got to the bar and got served, but then had to run the gauntlet again and this time I felt a couple a gropes of my arse and a grab at my tits. I got back to the table and sat with my eyes on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

"Wait here" Catherine said, then stood up with her drink and wandered over to a group of men on a nearby table. I couldn't hear what they were discussing, but I saw them look over at me several times and I saw the men smiling and laughing at whatever Catherine had told them. I felt myself blush furiously again and I looked at my drink with great intensity.

"Hello, darling, buy you a drink ?" I heard next to me and looked up into the face of a man in his mid-twenties, tie skewed and clearly the worse for drink. He pushed onto the seat next to me and I felt his hand grab my thigh, his fingers digging into my skin as he pushed the hem of my skirt up. I tried to pull his hand away but his grip was too tight, and then he leaned into me so I got a face full of his beery breath. His mouth clamped over mine and I simultaneously felt him grope my breast as his tongue tried to force its way into my mouth.

"Hey you" I heard Catherine growl, "Why don't you fuck off back under the rock you crawled out from ?"

"What's it to you, darling ?" the man slurred, "Can't she decide for herself ?"

"No, she can't. She's mine. Now fuck off". The drunk got up and staggered back to his friends, and I heard "fucking dykes" offered as explanation.

"I can't leave you for a minute, can I ?" Catherine said with some annoyance, then pulled me up out of the seat and led me towards the toilets. I recognised the guy Catherine had been talking to standing in the corridor and I saw him glance at her and give a little nod. Suddenly she was bundling me into the men's toilet and down to the end of the row of cubicles.

"What's going on ?" I asked as she forced me into the cubicle and made me sit on the seat. Saying nothing, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh my God, please don't do this !" I begged as she grabbed my arm and locked the bracelet around it, then twisted it behind my back, before grabbing my other arm and pulling that behind me too. The ratchet clicked shut and my wrists were locked together around the pipe on the wall behind me. Catherine pulled me forward and forced me to kneel on the tiles with the toilet bowl pressing against my back. She pulled out a second pair of cuffs and locked my ankles together behind the base of the toilet.

"Oh please, Mistress" I wailed desperately, "I'll do anything, please don't do this !" Again there was no reply but I watched in horror as she took a ring gag out of her bag. I whined and tried to turn my head away but she managed to force the ring into my mouth and strap it tightly into place. Now all I could do was whimper as she smiled down at me and patted my cheek.

"Don't be afraid" she said soothingly, "Just think of this as one of your public bondage games". She turned and walked out of the cubicle before closing the door on me, and I saw the small bolt slide across as she used a coin to lock the door from the outside. I listened as her shoes clicked across the tiles and the door swung open and then closed behind her. Maybe that is it, I thought with more hope than expectation, maybe she's going to leave me here, chained up in the men's toilets for a couple of hours, while men go in and out, unaware of my presence behind the closed door ? But somehow I didn't believe it. I heard the main door swing open, a man's footsteps cross the room, then I saw the bolt in front of me slide back. Then the door had opened and quickly closed, and the man Catherine had spoken to, who had given her the signal that the toilets were unoccupied, was standing in front of me.

"Jesus", he breathed, "She wasn't lying. Are you alright ?" Hoping this was compassion, I shook my head vigorously and begged him to help me.

"Wow, just like she said you'd be" he said and I realised he thought this was all my fantasy game, that I was pretending. He unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers down to his knees, followed by his boxer shorts. His cock was fully erect and, as he held my hair and my chin in a vice-like grip, I had no choice but to watch and feel and taste as he slid it through the ring and into my mouth. He let out a moan of pleasure as he pushed it deeper. I've never enjoyed giving head or been particularly good at it, as I have a strong gag reflex, and I started to retch as he thrust to the back of my throat. He pulled back, but it was not in any consideration for me as he thrust his shaft into my mouth again. Each thrust made me choke and retch, so the noises I was making were quite gross, but he didn't care, he just kept banging away until his cock twitched and, with a strangulated cry, he spurted his cum into my mouth. If I thought I was choking before, this was worse as now I couldn't breathe either. As he pulled out through the ring, I began a coughing fit which splattered cum all over his nice suit. With a curse, he grabbed my hair and turned my head away until I had stopped coughing and swallowed what was left in my mouth. Moments later he was gone and the bolt moved across to lock me in once more.

Just when I thought the ordeal was over, the door was unlocked and I was joined by another man. The process was repeated, as I was forced to take him in my mouth as well. He was different in that he expected me to use my tongue to stimulate him and he dragged my head slowly back and forth on his cock rather than him doing any of the work. The result was the same though and I felt sick as I had to swallow his cum as well.

When a third man entered the cubicle, I desperately tried to remember how many guys had been sitting at that table – four, five ? I now felt sure they were all going to abuse me before I was released. This guy slid his erection in slowly but ignored my choking and gagging as he pushed it as deep as he could, his pubic hair pressed into my face, then sliding it all the way back out and rubbing his cock against my lips and cheek. Inevitably, when he came he was not in my mouth and his cum spurted into my face, hitting me in the eye and across my nose. Instinctively I turned away, but that just meant his second spurt went on my cheek and in my hair. He told me to stick my tongue out and when I did so, he wiped his cock on it to clean off the last of his cum.

The next time the door opened, it was Catherine who came in and, to my intense relief, released the handcuffs and took off the gag.

"Get yourself cleaned up" she ordered, before leaving me to it. I struggled up off the floor and out of the cubicle to the row of sinks. I looked dreadful in the mirror and had to wash my hair as well as my face in the sink to get the cum out of it and I used a paper towel to wipe away the spunk which had dribbled down onto my top. As I finished, the door swung open and a rather surprised gent walked in, having checked the door to ensure he was in the right place. I rushed past him without a word and went back into the bar. Catherine was sitting with the group of guys who had just abused me, chatting, drinking, laughing, but when she saw me the smile disappeared and she got up. We left the bar and I was very relieved when we went back to the car.

"Take off those clothes" she barked as she opened the boot of the car.

"What ?!" I exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone was watching. She swung around and caught me with a slap across the cheek which knocked me to the ground.

"Don't you dare question my orders !" she screamed. I scrambled to my feet and quickly took off the top and skirt, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood in the public car park naked, holding out my only clothes. She snatched them from me and threw them into the boot, then whipped out the handcuffs again and locked my arms behind me. She took out the ring gag and put it back in my mouth, then told me to get into the boot. Awkwardly I clambered in and lay down on my stomach as she ordered, then felt her pull my legs up behind me and cuff them, with the two sets of cuffs entwined so that I was chained into a hogtie. The boot lid slammed down and I was left in pitch black, terrified about what I would have to endure next.

Thankfully, the next stop was outside my house. Catherine freed my legs and helped me struggle out of the car. It was dark and there was a distinct autumn chill as I stood there naked.

"I hope you enjoyed your day as much as I did" she said, "I'll see you tomorrow" And with that, she drove off, leaving me still handcuffed and gagged ! I watched her go in disbelief, but realised I'd better get inside before someone saw me. I needed to eat something, I was starving, but I couldn't with the gag in my mouth. My throat was dry but how could I get a drink ? In the end I stuck my head under a running tap and lapped at the water. I went to bed that night incredibly hungry and miserable, fearful of what the morning would bring.


Part 3 (added: 10/30/2010)

I was woken the next day by banging on the door. I was disoriented and couldn't understand why I was handcuffed and gagged, then I remembered the day before and I panicked. I looked out of an upstairs window and saw that the workmen had arrived to install my septic tank, but were looking around for the lady of the house before they could start. One of them looked up, shading his eyes from the early morning sun, and I dived out of sight. What was I going to do ? I needed this work done but I wasn't going out like this !

Luckily Catherine turned up a few minutes later and I heard her saying I was probably still asleep or tied up with something and that they should get started while she sorted me out and got me to make them some tea. I was grateful when she came in and released me, and I went to put on some clothes so I could go and talk to the man in charge.

"Hang on", she said, "It's such a lovely day, you should do some sunbathing".

"But I have to make the tea first. It's a little cold at the moment" I said in as conciliatory a tone as possible, I didn't want her to think I was arguing, I had seen what that led to the day before.

"Nevertheless" she said coldly, "I think you should wear this" She was holding up a bright white bikini I had bought a few years ago for a holiday in Greece, just three triangles of material strung together. I felt a little turn of the stomach – was it queasiness or excitement at exposing myself to public gaze ? I wasn't sure.

I went out into the garden and waved to the three men, watching as they turned and stared, realising the cool morning air was making my nipples stand out through the thin material and definitely attracting their attention. I introduced myself and found out that the foreman, Brian, was actually the father of Dave and Steve, two strapping young lads barely out of their teens and barely able to keep their eyes in their sockets. I took their drinks order and imagined their faces as I walked away, my buttocks exposed by the thong at the back of my bikini. Once I had delivered their ridiculously sweet tea, Catherine said she had something to do but would be back later, and expected me to be working on my tan, which was one order I was quite happy to obey. I got out a towel and lay down on the grass to watch all the hard work.

As the sun rose, it became very warm (for England) and the two young men stripped off their shirts with great alacrity, eager to show off their rather impressive builder's bodies. Suitably impressed, I nipped inside and brought out the tanning oil.

"Excuse me, could one of you help me with this ?" I asked, holding up the bottle, and watched as they almost came to blows in their rush to grab it. Dave, the older, taller but not quite as fanciable brother won and, with a broad grin, followed me across the lawn and knelt down next to me as I lay down on my stomach. I could see the front of his jeans straining and I increased the tension when I unclipped the bikini top and invited him to 'oil me up'. I really enjoyed his touch as he worked the oil into my shoulders and then his hands glided down to the small of my back, rubbing down to the top of my buttocks.

"Do my legs as well, please" I said dreamily, and felt his hands kneading my calves and the back of my thighs. I opened my legs slightly and, growing in confidence, he rubbed oil into my buttocks and let his fingers stray between my thighs. I wasn't sure about him, but I was certainly ready to pop my cork, so it was very difficult when I had to say 'Thank you' and take the bottle off him. He looked disappointed and I saw him swallow hard before he got back to his feet, hardly able to straighten up he had such a hard-on !

I managed to contain myself for a good thirty minutes before I called out.

"Steve, could you help me now, please ?" I held out the oil and as he bounded over, I turned onto my back, which brought him to a shuddering halt with his mouth hanging open as I hadn't fastened my bra top and he was now staring at my bare breasts.

"Could you do my front, please ?" I asked in my best helpless female voice, before lying back with my hands behind my head and legs slightly apart. The look on his face was a picture of lust, confusion and slight intimidation. I gave him an encouraging smile and he snapped out of it, kneeling down beside me and dribbling oil across my breasts. I let out an appreciative moan as he started to rub it in, working it until my nipples were standing erect and I was biting my lip in excitement. After what seemed an age, he moved on to my stomach and then my thighs. I was squirming under his touch now and it was so long since I'd felt the touch of a man in that way, that I was struggling to stop myself cumming. As he worked the oil around the tops of my thighs, pushing the strings of my bikini bottoms up and then pulling them down a little, I couldn't take it any more, and it was with an extreme act of will that I said

"Thank you, Steve, I'll take it from here". He looked even more disappointed than his brother as he returned to carry on working.

About an hour later, I decided it was time for lunch and I went over to where the three men were working. I was still topless and glistening with oil, so all eyes were on me.

"Would you like another cup of tea ? Or maybe something to cool you down – it is very hot out here". I led them into the house and we all had an ice cold beer. I couldn't help being amused by how Steve couldn't keep his eyes off my breasts, while Dave kept switching from my breasts to my arse, but never on my face. Brian was trying to be a gentleman, so didn't stare, but then he couldn't trust himself to look at me at all.

We were into a second beer when Catherine arrived. She looked sensational in sunglasses, tight riding breeches, knee-length boots and a white linen top unbuttoned to show plenty of cleavage. The young boys gave her an appreciative glance before carrying on staring at my more obvious assets, but Brian seemed smitten and engaged her in rapt conversation.

I was feeling a little tipsy by the time they went back to work but Catherine didn't look too pleased.

"You've certainly lost your inhibitions, haven't you ?" she said testily.

"Yes, Mistress" I murmured. When I heard myself say that, I was shocked – I was definitely enjoying the beer buzz and had been turned on by the morning's teasing, but I realised that for the first time, the thought of being disciplined by 'Mistress Kat' was making me excited. She picked up on that and gave a half smile.

"Let's see if we can help you lose a few more. Wait here". She went out to her car and I heard her take some things into the garage, then she came back into the kitchen holding what I immediately recognised as a black leather hood, bristling with buckles and straps.

"Put this on" she said, handing it to me. I could see it had no eye holes and as I brought it to my face, I had to bite down on a fitted mouthpiece which was like a built-in ring gag. As I pulled it over my head I was plunged into darkness and I could only stand submissively as Catherine tightened the straps one by one until the hood was clinging to my face. She took my hand and led me into the garage, the concrete floor cold underneath my bare feet.

"Take off your panties and wipe yourself with them, your cunt is dripping wet, you slut" she ordered. I slipped off my bikini bottom and wiped between my legs, the feel of the material against my swollen vulva almost enough to bring me off.

"Put them in your mouth" she barked. Obediently, and a little eagerly, I stuffed the damp material through the hole in the mask and got my first taste of my own juices, which was not entirely unpleasant.

"Clasp your hands together behind your back". I did as I was told and felt something being pulled up over my arms. After a few seconds confusion, I realised it was an arm binder, or single glove, something I had only seen in photos on porn sites or fetishwear websites. I felt it pulled up over my elbows onto my upper arms, then the straps go over my shoulders across my chest to the buckles under my armpits, tightening and restricting my already shallow and ragged breathing. Now I felt the strap around my wrists and the straps along the glove tightened until my forearms were virtually welded together. I let out a howl of protest as my shoulders were pulled back, but this just encouraged Catherine to pull the last strap one more notch before buckling it down.

Totally blind and helpless, I could only stand there as I felt a strap tighten around my right ankle, then Catherine was forcing my legs wider and wider apart, before I felt a strap buckled around my other ankle. I knew this from porn pictures too, it was a spreader bar – for the first time I hoped Catherine would take a picture of me because I wanted to see what I looked like in all this classic bondage gear !

If I'd been thinking straight I could have guessed what was coming next, but I was a little distracted, so it took me by surprise when my arms were hauled up into the air behind me, forcing me to bend forward. I guessed Catherine had tied a rope to the end of the arm binder, tossed it over a beam near the roof and was now pulling on it until I was doubled over and my arms were straight up in the air behind me.

"Comfortable ?" I heard whispered next to my ear, "Well, maybe when the boys have finished for the day, they'll come and sort you out". I heard her walk away and the door close, leaving me there. My arms were already killing me and soon my hamstrings were burning like they were on fire, but there was nothing I could do but stand there and wait. I was so horny that if I'd just been able to touch myself for a minute I know I would have cum, but I was just being tormented by my own desires. The time passed slowly.

At last I heard the door open.

"Jesus, will you look at this !" I heard in Steve's soft west country burr.

"Not so loud !" Dave urged, "Dad'll hear you !"

"You reckon ? I think he's only gonna be listening to that other bird – did you see the way she looked at him ? Dirty mare !"

"Talkin' of dirty mares, what about this bitch ? She's trussed up like a turkey ready for pluckin'"

"I dunno, do you think we should ?"

"Hello ?! Gift horse, mouth ! Are you gonna look in it or fuck it ?" This conversation was going on above me as they circled around, checking me out. I felt a hand grab my breast and squeeze, then another on my buttock, pinching it. I let out some desperate stifled cries, and felt the bikini pulled out of my mouth as they examined their prize. My knees almost buckled as I felt fingers on my pussy, parting my lips and exploring inside.

"Jeez, she's wetter than a dog on heat !" Steve said.

"Alright, you take that end, I'll take this". Moments later my mouth was full of cock and then, with my thighs being held tight, I felt a shaft drive into my hot little pussy and I came almost immediately. I was choking and gagging just like before but as long as I was being serviced from behind I didn't care. Each thrust forced me forward onto the cock in my mouth and reminded me of the restraints on my arms and legs, as they held me so strictly and, before I could prepare myself, I was climaxing again. I wanted them to keep going but, in a flurry of groans and thrusts, first my mouth was filled with spunk and then my pussy. They both withdrew and I was left standing there, semen drooling from my mouth and dribbling down my thigh, tantalisingly close to a third orgasm.

"Fuck, that was good !" I heard Dave say after a few minutes.

"You wanna change ends and go again ?" Yes, yes, yes, I thought.

"Hell yes !"

I came another couple of times as they took me again, filling me with their ejaculations.

"Christ, I'm knackered !" Steve said, "Shall we get another beer ?" I was disappointed when I heard them leaving, as I was ready to take it all again if they were up to it.

As the adrenalin wore off, I started to realise how tired I was and how much my body was aching. I was relieved when, maybe an hour later, I heard the door open and Catherine's boots clipping on the concrete.

"Had a good time ?" she asked rhetorically. "I didn't say you could have those boys, did I ? You need to be punished for your wanton lust and disgusting behaviour !"

I felt something touching my buttock, lying against it, then I let out a squeal as it stung me painfully. I squealed again as the sharp pain was repeated on the other buttock and I suddenly realised I had been hit by the end of a riding crop ! Time and time again the sharp blows were repeated, sending brief jolts of pain through me as she covered my cheeks. Then suddenly I let out a howl as I felt the thin switch slashed down across both buttocks, leaving a line of pain glowing across my soft flesh. I was twisting and turning in my bonds now, crying out as the rod whipped down on me again and again, striking me on the buttocks and the tops of my thighs.

The beating stopped and all I could hear was my sobbing and the rasping of my breath. Then the painful stinging blows started again, but this time on my nipples and around my breasts. I recoiled each time I was struck, but it went on for several minutes, driving me mad, like I was being bitten by particularly large mosquitoes. After another brief pause, I squealed in surprise and pain as the sharp slaps of the leather resumed, but this time against the still-engorged lips of my pussy ! Now I was screaming as she beat out an agonising rhythm on my tender flesh.

At last it stopped. The rope holding my arms up went slack and I sank to my knees and then lay on the floor, thankful for the relief of pressure on my shoulders. The straps around my ankles were unbuckled and I could stretch some of the pain out of my thighs, and then finally the hood was loosened and pulled free. I looked up to see Catherine standing over me, one boot either side of my head, her blouse open and her tousled black hair cascading onto her shoulders. Her breeches were gone and I was looking up at her mound of black pubic hair glistening in the dim light. She was holding the riding crop and laid it against my cheek.

"So, who's in charge here, Sally ?" she asked arrogantly.

"You are, Mistress", I replied meekly but with a feeling of excitement rather than dread.

"Very good. I hope you understand why I punished you for your earlier behaviour".

"Yes, Mistress"

"Oh, really ? Why ?"

"Because you wanted to, Mistress"

"Quite right. And now I want you to make me cum"

"Yes, Mistress"

As she bent her knees, her wet pussy lowered towards my face and I could see the semen still clinging to her – had she had the father, the sons or all three ? I didn't know, but I had no doubt she could have made them do whatever she wanted. I opened my mouth as her lips pressed against mine, my tongue darting in to seek out her swollen clitoris. I was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure as I delved as deep as I could into her.

"Open your legs" she growled and as I did so I felt the leather flap of the crop rubbing roughly over my shaved mound and pressing between my lips. As I worked frantically with tongue and lips to distract her, I felt her fingers spreading me open and exposing my clitoris. I convulsed when the first blow landed, my scream muffled in her body. I licked and sucked ever more desperately and she moaned and squirmed above me, but nothing I did could prevent her striking out a second time, making me buck and writhe in agony. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, she leant down over me and took my bruised clitoris into her mouth and sucked. I knew I was cumming then, but I tried to ignore my own orgasm and force her to cum with me. I redoubled my efforts and felt her arch her back, pressing her body down into my face ever harder as she cried out "Yes ! Yes ! Yes !" at last and I tasted her juices as they squirted into my mouth and face. Finally she lifted herself off me and lay out on the floor beside me. I was secretly proud of myself that, for the first time, I had wrested control from my Mistress !

A little later, as we enjoyed a glass of wine in the kitchen, Catherine now fully dressed and sitting at the table, me still naked and kneeling at her feet, she ran her fingers through my hair.

"You've been a good girl today, Sally"

"Thank you, Mistress" I couldn't believe how I had been turned from blackmail victim into willing submissive so quickly, but it just felt so natural.

"Your time as my pet won't always be quite so enjoyable, you know that, don't you ?" I thought back to the excruciating pain of the beating and was a little frightened by the prospect of worse than that. But then I remembered the climax which followed it.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress" I said, and meant it.


Part 4 (added: 11/05/2010)

Over the next few months, our Dom / sub relationship became more – not exactly comfortable as I have never enjoyed suffering pain, but let's say I now accepted the rough with the smooth. But that was all about to change.

It was the first day of the Christmas holiday and I had two weeks of fun as Mistress Kat's full-time plaything to look forward to. My day started like most Saturdays, I was up at 6AM and, after a quick breakfast, I dressed in my running vest, shorts and trainers and hit the road for a five-mile run. It was still dark and in Devon the winter's are almost always cold and wet, but I sucked it up and got on with it. When I had finished my run, rather than go back home, I went into the garden at Catherine's house and round the back to the shed. There I stripped off my sweaty clothes and put them in the shed, where I picked up the key to the back door of the house. Catherine's husband Derek had rigged up a water butt about eight feet off the ground with a drain at the bottom operated by a chain. I stood under the water butt, gritted my teeth and pulled the chain. A cascade of freezing cold water hit me on the head and ran down my body, bringing a sharp intake of breath from me. I quickly rubbed myself all over to remove the sweat from my run and then ran to the house, shivering violently, and let myself in.

Once inside, I went to the below-stairs cupboard and got out my uniform. It was a maid's black dress, with a low cut top with white frilly edging and pinafore, plus black crotchless panties, stockings and suspenders, but it was all in the tightest, shiniest, sexiest latex rubber with sky high stilettos to complete the look. I almost came as I squeezed myself into it and, as always, I spent a couple of minutes posing in front of the hall mirror, pouting and touching myself. There were also two sets of manacles, basically handcuffs with two feet of stainless steel chain between the cuffs, and I clicked these on my wrists and ankles before starting work. I then set about my usual routine, which was to wash up, clean the kitchen floor and dust all the downstairs rooms, making sure not to make any noise to wake up Catherine or Derek.

At about 9.30, I heard the faint tinkle of a hand bell and immediately stopped what I was doing and answered the summons. Derek was in the en suite bathroom cleaning his teeth and I quickly knelt on the floor to await his orders. He was naked but I was no longer repulsed by his rather corpulent and very hairy body. He had first seen me naked when I was dangling by my wrists from a tree in his garden in the throes of a vibrator-induced orgasm while being video'ed for the devonbondagegirl website by Catherine. He watched with mild interest until I had thrashed and moaned to a climax and, as I hung limply from the rope, gave his wife a peck on the cheek then called over "Hi, Sally, how are you ?" I mumbled something around the ball in my mouth and he started talking to Catherine about seeing all his old mates up in London ! He then operated the video camera while Catherine whipped me mercilessly with a flogger. Later that night, the two of them were having dinner as I dangled from the ceiling nearby in a horribly painful hogtie and with weights hanging from clamps biting into my breasts.

"Do you want to play with my little toy ?" Catherine asked him, gesturing towards me. He looked over and considered the question.

"Well, you know I've always wanted to explore anal sex ?" he said after a while.

"And I've always said 'Bugger off, that's sick and dirty' ?" she replied.

"Well, maybe this is the perfect opportunity ..." I was shocked – I'd never had anal sex and I agreed that it was sick and dirty, as well as likely to be painful. But my opinion didn't matter and indeed wasn't sought. I was taken down and then tied against the dining table, arms stretched across it and face pressed against the table cloth, legs spread and my arse readily available. I felt Catherine liberally spreading cool lubricant between my buttocks and into my anus.

"Maybe we should warm her up a bit first" Derek said. Catherine got my biggest butt plug and pushed it in and out, stretching my hole wide, while I gasped in discomfort. Then she got a life-like penis shaped vibrator and worked all seven inches of it into me, ignoring my cries of pain. Derek stripped off in front of me and I had never seen a hairier body outside a zoo ! He brought his semi-erect cock to full readiness and slid on a condom – "No offence, but I don't want your shit on my dick" he said. Then he went behind me and I felt his body against my thighs, his fingers poking and stretching my sphincter and then the tip of his cock pressing against my 'back door'. I started to cry and beg him not to do it, but Catherine stuffed my mouth with a cloth, stifling further protest and muffling my agonised cries as he forced himself into me. I could feel it sliding up inside me and it felt like something must tear. And then he started thrusting in and out of me and, against all expectations, I started to become aroused ! It wasn't enough to make me cum before he did, but it was interesting.

"Well, that was fun" he said afterwards, and that was about it, he didn't show any great interest in me for sex or other fetishes, except for Saturday mornings, like this one.

"Morning, Sally" he said as he turned and I could see that, as usual, he had his 'morning glory' as he called it, a particularly stiff erection.

"Good morning, Master Derek" I said meekly.

"I wonder if you'd mind taking care of this for me" he said as he came across and stood in front of me. I took his erection in my hand, put out my tongue and licked all around its large purple head, then opened my mouth and took him inside. His penis was not especially long, so I didn't mind taking it all in, but it was very thick, so it filled my mouth. His hands rested on my head, stroking my hair tenderly as I went to work with my tongue and (gently) with my teeth, bringing grunts and moans of ecstasy from him. As he became more excited he grabbed my hair and pushed his cock deeper, but I didn't mind. After a few minutes he started to cry out a little louder, his cock twitched and he shot his load into my mouth, and I swallowed it down willingly, before licking him clean.

"Thank you, my dear" he said politely, before wandering off to get dressed.

I went back downstairs and found Catherine was now up, so I made them a full English breakfast. As they ate and chatted, I stood in the corner looking on hungrily.

"What time are you off out today dear ?" Derek asked.

"I need to leave soon after lunch to get the train" Catherine replied, "I'm really looking forward to it" I was disappointed because, if she was going out it meant no 'games' for me. I carried on cleaning the house, but I was surprised and delighted when Catherine said I needed to get ready as I was going too. She told me to put on the one dress she kept for me at their house 'for emergencies' – it was a stylish and sexy black sheath minidress, which was woollen and clung to my curves like latex but was far more respectable. I always enjoyed wearing it but there was also a feeling of trepidation, as it usually meant I would end up having to take it off in some public place and suffering some painful or embarrassing humiliation.

We took the train up to London and acted like normal people, just friends chatting, up for a night on the town. But I was distracted, imagining a night in a seedy Soho BDSM dungeon being tortured and humiliated by total strangers – a prospect which turned me on as much as it worried me. But I was wrong – our first stop was a famous Knightsbridge shop (okay, Harrods), where Catherine bought herself a lovely evening dress and me an even more stunning one, a figure-hugging, silver-blue lamé gown, as well as matching shoes and sexy lingerie. We then checked into a very posh hotel and went up to our elegant room to get changed. There was a slight delay when we were both in our stockings and suspenders when Catherine started kissing me and it developed into a full-blown lesbian 69 session, which certainly relieved the tensions of the day ! Eventually we were both dressed and made up to the nines and we went out arm in arm.

But we didn't go out on the town or even to the hotel's famous restaurant. Instead we took the lift to the top floor, where there was a small but clearly very select group of guests, eight in all, chatting and sipping champagne served by waiters. It took me about ten seconds to realise that these were actually four other Dom-sub couples. Each couple included an older partner – three men and one other woman – and a much younger girl – I realised that at 25 I was at least 5 years older than the others. The Doms chatted like old friends and we subs neither spoke nor were spoken to. I stood there watching it all, guzzling my drink.

As we were not introduced, I amused myself by making up names for the Doms. The first guy was fifty and bald, and I immediately tagged him as Dr Evil. His sub was probably about 17, but she looked 12 as she was dressed as a schoolgirl – white blouse, pleated skirt, school tie, white knee socks, patent leather shoes, even her hair was tied in bunches. She had virtually no bosom or curves and she looked nervous and deeply unhappy. She didn't touch her drink – maybe she wasn't old enough.

The next guy was smooth, suave and about 40 and I decided he was Number 2 – somewhere between Rob Lowe and Robert Wagner. His sub was Asian, very beautiful face framed by straight black hair cut in a bob and wearing a silk kimono dress with a Japanese print design. She didn't smile but looked very carefully at each sub, assessing.

The woman looked rather cruel and hatchet-faced, so I named her Frau Farbissina, although she wasn't German. If I'd seen her sub on the street I would have said she was a lingerie model or maybe a high-class prostitute – long blonde hair down her back and wearing a startling red leather catsuit it looked like she'd been poured into, with her impressive cleavage on display. She seemed arrogant, confident she was the most glamorous person there, and she was right.

Finally there was a young guy, about my age, with slightly wild hair, and he was clearly Scott Evil. His sub was wearing a sharp trouser suit, hair tied back in a pony tail and looked like his secretary, fresh from the office – maybe she was, or maybe she was the office manager by day while he worked in the Post room, but at night ... or maybe not.

And then I wondered what they'd think of us. I decided that Catherine would be Mrs. Kensington and I would be the country bumpkin, all sweet and innocent of the wicked ways of these city folk, dressed up for the Young Farmer's hunt ball.

After about thirty minutes, we moved on to dinner – or, to be more precise, the Doms sat down for two hours of delicious food and fine wine with good conversation, while we Subs stood against the wall and watched enviously. I realised how hungry I was, and the champagne had made me a little dizzy and sleepy.

The group then moved on to a smaller round table, which was laid out with green baize, playing cards and gambling chips. Apparently they were going to play Poker – not a game I know, understand or am interested in. The Subs were all expected to stand behind their Dom and the game began. I have to admit I was bored, just watching piles of chips moving back and forth for no reason I could understand. I was pleased for Catherine that she seemed to be doing well, but that was about it. The chips in front of the suave Number 2 diminished and his Asian sub looked worried. When he finally ran out of chips I assumed he was out of the game and we could maybe get somewhere near the end.

"John" he called and the older guy who had been watching from the side came over and handed him a new pile of chips. He nodded to his sub and she started taking off her dress. As she stripped off, she handed her clothes over to John, who seemed to be the banker and Number 2 had just 'bought' chips with his sub's clothes. I realised this must be a kind of Strip Poker, with the subs forfeiting. Suddenly I was glad Catherine was doing well ! As the Asian girl took off her bra, I was surprised to see that her nipples were pierced by stainless steel bars, and then when she pulled down her panties, she revealed a small tattoo on her shaved mound which read 'SLAVE'. As I took this on board, I was shocked to see small steel rings in her labia, which had each been pierced in a neat row of four, and the pairs of rings opposite were each joined by a small padlock, making her pussy entirely inaccessible. What a terribly cruel master this Number 2 must be, I thought.

Number 2 continued to bet and lose and pretty soon he called John the banker over again. This time John, having provided more chips, handcuffed the Asian sub's wrists behind her back. I checked Catherine's pile of chips and was reassured. The fortunes seemed to change and the big winners were Catherine and Number 2. Dr Evil was the next to run out and the schoolgirl was forced to strip naked. She seemed very shy and tried to cover her small breasts and wispy pubic hair with her hands, but that failed when her hands were cuffed behind her. Dr Evil continued to lose and next time he had to go to the bank, John put manacles around the young girl's ankles. Continued losses and then he strapped a bright red ball gag into her mouth. When Dr Evil ran out again, he threw up his hands, pushed back his chair and stepped away. John took hold of the schoolgirl's arm and guided her to stand beside me, behind Catherine, who had won the hand. The girl looked desperately frightened and I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it didn't cheer her up.

Now Scott Evil and the Frau were losing, and the secretary and the model were soon naked, then chained, then gagged. When Scott went out, the secretary shuffled behind Number 2, while the model ended up on our side. There were only two players left now and the game went back and forth between Catherine and Number 2. But gradually, the pile of chips in front of Catherine dwindled and eventually they were all gone. The schoolgirl was dispatched to pay Catherine's debt, then the model. Finally she turned to me and nodded, and I knew what that meant. Swallowing hard, I unzipped my gown and dropped it to the floor, then took off my sexy lingerie and shoes, wondering if I would see them again. I paid more attention to the game now and was astonished when Catherine put the whole advance she had just received on the next hand and, to my relief, won. But it didn't last. Soon I was cuffed, then shackled, then gagged. Catherine went all in and Number 2 matched her. She put down three kings and two aces, which seemed good, but he showed four sixes and an eight, which seemed pathetic but I guessed from the reactions was the winner. Catherine stood up and gave me an apologetic smile. As I shuffled around the table to stand next to the other subs, John was uncuffing the Asian girl and giving her back her clothes.

It was clear the evening was over as the Doms shook hands and said their goodbyes. Catherine came over to me.

"Sorry about that Sally" she said cheerfully, "I had such great plans for us at Christmas, but never mind, you'll have an exciting time with Master Ivan and I'll see you in the New Year".

"Mmmmph mmmm ?!" I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief. Catherine looked displeased.

"Don't embarrass me !" she hissed, ""Try to act like a well-trained slave" I was shocked, she had never called me slave before – I always thought I was her plaything. Maybe I had been her plaything, but was now Master Ivan's slave !

"Arrange for them to be shipped to my estate" Master Steven said to John.

"Come, Reiki" he said and the Asian sub, now fully dressed again, followed him out of the door. As she left, she flashed us a look of triumph.

John had a set of steel collars joined by a chain, and he put one around each of our necks. Without a word, he led us out of the room and into the lift, which took us down. When the doors opened, we shuffled out into the car parking level of the hotel and off into a dark corner where a white van was waiting for us. The driver got out and John told him the destination.

"For Christ sake, that's 500 miles ! It'll take me all fucking day !"

"Stop moaning and help me get this lot packed away"

They unloaded four wooden packing crates and a load of webbing straps from the back of the van and unhooked the chain from our collars. They took the secretary first, starting by wrapping a strap around her head, covering her eyes and forcing the ball gag deeper into her mouth. Straps were then fastened tightly around her chest, her body just below her breasts, her stomach, thighs, knees and ankles. She was then made to sit on the concrete and her legs pulled up and strapped to her body, calves against thighs and thighs tight to her stomach. They picked up her trussed body and placed her in the first crate, eliciting a muffled cry as she was dropped into place and the lid of the crate was closed, forcing her head forward onto her chest. I watched in horror as they nailed the lid down, then lifted the crate and put it into the van. The model was next, 'processed' in the same way, and then it was my turn.

Once I was strapped up I found I could hardly breathe, the ball being forced deep in my mouth and the webbing crushing my legs against my chest. I felt them lift me up and put me into the crate, and suddenly I realised why I had heard the other women protesting as they were lowered. I felt two intruders, attached to the bottom of the crate, pressing against my pussy and anus, and then forcing their way into me as my whole body weight now drove the monsters deep inside me. I screamed in agony, just as the other two had done, as I sank down onto the enormous dildos. I felt the lid of the crate pressing on the back of my head, forcing it forward and down, making it even more difficult to breathe. I heard the nails being hammered into place and then the crate was lifted onto the van and slid up against the others. A few minutes later I felt the fourth box pushed against mine, then the van doors were slammed shut and the engine fired into life. We were moving.

I felt sick with fear. My cosy, safe little world of playing at being a sub had been swept away and now I was merely a prize in a game of cards, a possession to be crated and shipped, a slave to be – well, I didn't know how I was to be treated. I sobbed forlornly as the van barrelled along, every bump in the road making me grimace in pain and bringing faint cries from the other boxes, as we were taken towards our new life of slavery.


Part 5 (added: 12/09/2010)

The journey to Scotland was a living nightmare as the pain in my rear spread to every muscle in my body. There were many stops along the way, but I was left in the crate the whole time, unable to move, unable to sleep, unable to stop myself peeing and eventually defecating, and the smell in the van became quite disgusting.

Eventually the hellish journey ended and I felt my crate being manhandled out of the truck, up steps and down stairs, finally being put down and the lid being removed. As I was lifted out the sensation of the dildos being pulled out of me was horrible and I immediately lost whatever was left in my bowels. The webbing straps were removed and I was laid on a stone-flagged floor, face-down, alongside the other women. It was a great relief to be able to move and stretch, although I was still ballgagged with my hands cuffed behind my back and my ankles shackled, as were the others. As I looked around, I saw we were in some kind of dimly-lit cell or dungeon with no windows, just a heavy wooden door, covered with iron studs and bars, which looked impenetrable. The room was quite large and I saw chains and manacles hanging from the walls and I could make out what looked like torture equipment in the dark recesses – what looked like a human sized cage hanging from the ceiling, a table with shackles hanging from each corner, a winch with chains and manacles hanging from it. I shivered, both in fear at what was to come and because it was pretty cold. The other girls looked to be in as bad a state as me, both physically and emotionally, and the schoolgirl was sobbing.

About 30 minutes later the door opened and I saw the Asian sub from the previous evening, Reiki, enter. She was dressed in a black basque, stockings and stilettos, but with no panties and her breasts uncovered – but she was not naked, chained or gagged, like us.

"Welcome to my master's house", she said in a strong Japanese accent. "While you are here, you are slaves to my master, his family, and the staff of the house. I will be handling your training, punishments and work schedule". I thought I saw a sly smile flicker across her stern face as she said this. "Although you have been submissives, like me, be under no illusion that I will be sympathetic or kind – you are now slaves, and my job is to make you the best slaves my master could own. So, first, we must clean you up". She went to a dark corner and returned with the nozzle of a hose pipe. As I saw this, I was suddenly hit by a blast of icy cold water which made me squeal, cringe and gasp for breath all at the same time. Reiki moved closer and I felt the jet of water between my buttocks and the water forcing its way into my anus like an impromptu enema.

"Stand up ! All of you, stand up !" We scrambled to our feet and the hosing down continued. I cringed against the wall as the jet played over my pussy and then my breasts, before being directed straight into my face. I had to hold my breath to stop myself breathing in the water and it felt like I was drowning standing up ! At last the water was shut off and we stood there, shivering and dripping, while Reiki put the hose away.

"You ! Come with me !" I realised she was pointing at me and I shuffled after her, fearing I was being singled out for some new punishment. She led me out of the dungeon, slamming and locking the door behind us, then up some stone stairs to a corridor in the main house and into a room further down. The room was brightly lit and looked like an operating room, complete with a chair which looked like a cross between a dentist's and a gynaecologist's chair, with foot stirrups. Reiki unlocked my wrists and ankles, making me sit in the chair. As I did so, she tightened the leather straps on the armrests and foot plates, then added straps around my waist, shoulders, neck and forehead, pinning me down so I couldn't move a muscle. I started to whine in terror as she wheeled a gas canister beside the chair and then clamped a mask over my nose and mouth. I struggled desperately to get away from the sickly smell of the gas but it was impossible and I quickly felt myself slipping into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I was lying on the cold stone floor again, and I felt like I had been kicked in the groin, punched in the mouth and whipped across the breasts. As I tried to shake off the woozy feeling in my head and prop myself up on one elbow, I realised I was now in chains, with a thick steel collar around my neck and manacles on my wrists and ankles, all joined by heavy steel links. There was something in my mouth, which was no longer gagged, and as I explored with my tongue and fingers, I realised that my tongue had been pierced and there was a large stud through it. Quickly I looked down at my breasts and saw that they too had been pierced and shiny steel rings ran through the areolas around my nipples. With a growing sense of dread, I looked down my stomach and saw the livid mark of a fresh tattoo across my mound, the word 'SLAVE' clear to me even as I read it upside down. My eyes strayed beyond the tattoo and I let out a howl of shock and despair when I saw the row of rings shining in my pierced labia. I had been marked as a slave and these would be permanent – even if I could remove the rings, which looked pretty solid, I would still carry the stigmata of my slavery. As I looked up, I saw that the three other women, lying nearby, had been similarly marked and, as they recovered from the anaesthetic, went through the same cycle of discovery, disbelief, shock and horror as I had. As if there was some unspoken agreement, the four of us huddled together to try and comfort each other and, after a while, to try to share body warmth in our cold prison.

After some time, we risked a whispered conversation, telling each other our stories. The schoolgirl's name was Sophie – she was in fact, a student, and her master was a former teacher, a fact I found very disturbing, as it sounded like she had been groomed from an early age. The woman I had thought of as the secretary was Rebecca, and she had met her master at a BDSM club in London a couple of years previously and had since given up her job (as a Personnel Clerk) to live full-time with her master. Tanya was the 'model', and she worked in a pole-dancing club, where she had met her Mistress, who was also her lesbian lover. She actually seemed okay about the piercings she had been given, feeling they would bring her better tips in the club. When I came to tell them my story, about how my Mistress was 'a friend', it struck me for the first time how hollow that now sounded, given that she had just given away my freedom in a game of cards, without any regard for my feelings or wishes. I fell silent as the others speculated on what we would be forced to do here and when, or even if, we would be allowed to return to our former lives. That hit me pretty hard, as I had assumed I would be back home in time to return to work, but I realised there was no guarantee of that.

A little later Reiki returned with food for us – wooden bowls of grey, lumpy porridge which we had to eat with our fingers, but I was so hungry I licked the bowl clean, without ever satisfying the gnawing feeling in my stomach. When we had finished, Reiki came back and ordered us to follow her, up the stone stairs and down the corridor to another room. This one was full of leather harnesses and brasses, like a tack room at a stables, but I had a feeling this tack was not for horses. She made us sit on a long bench in the middle of the room and then dealt with us one at a time, starting with me.

First she unlocked and removed the heavy slave chains, then strapped my forearms together behind my back, wrist to elbow, with a leather binder. Next came a head harness which included big brass rings on either side of a metal bit, which bent into my mouth and was split in two, and Reiki pulled my tongue between the two halves until the stud was lodged in front of the bit, preventing me from speaking. Leather straps ran up either side of my face, holding blinkers which obscured my peripheral vision, and with straps under my chin, around my forehead and across my cheeks, it was a snug fit once it was buckled up tight and, to finish it off, a plume of feathers stuck out from the top. The Japanese woman now fitted me into a body harness, which started with a heavy leather collar around the neck, two steel rings which fitted over my breasts and were held in place by leather straps to the collar, around my back and to a wide belt now being fastened around my waist. A long strap hung down from the belt and I assumed this was to go through between my legs, but first Reiki went to a shelf and brought over what looked like a horse's tail. It was not until she came close to me that I saw that the 'tail' was attached to a long, curved phallus.

"Bend over !" she barked and I did so, also spreading my legs as far apart as I could, as I had already guessed where it was going. I felt her smear some lubricant between my buttocks and then thrust the phallus home with no attempt at gentleness, bringing a squeal of pain from me. She now pulled the crotch strap through and buckled it tight, forcing the dildo even deeper.

As I straightened up, Reiki brought over a pair of leather boots and I looked at them in astonishment. They were knee boots, but the soles were shaped like horse's hooves and they had no heels at all. I steadied myself against the wall as she pulled them on me and buckled them tightly. Once they were on, I felt like I was wearing four inch platforms with six or seven inch heels, which was not very comfortable but they were relatively easy to stand up in, as the hooves were so wide and they raked back under where the heel would have been. I experimented walking in them as the others were dressed in the same way. Tanya's breasts were so large they had to be forced through the rings of the body harness, bring cries of pain from her and curses from our jailor. The final touches were small bells clipped onto our nipple rings, and reins attached to the rings at the ends of the mouth bit. Once we were all prepared, we were lined up against the wall and told to stand to attention. Reiki left us alone and we looked fearfully at each other, wondering what would happen next.

The door opened and Master Ivan walked in, dressed in tweed jacket and trousers, accompanied by a woman in tight ski pants, Ugg boots and a Puffa jacket, then a boy who looked about eighteen and a girl who looked much younger, both in one-piece ski outfits and boots. Reiki followed behind them.

"Your ponies are ready for you, Master" she said obsequiously. The girl suddenly ran over to us and poked me right on my new tattoo, making me wince in pain.

"I want this one !" she shouted stridently – I didn't know what she wanted me for, but I instantly marked her as a spoilt brat.

"Now, Araminta, honey", the woman drawled in an American accent, "Don't scare the ponies. Rufus, darling, which do you want ?" The boy sullenly slouched forward towards Tanya, his eyes fixed on her enormous breasts.

"I'll take this one" he said in a bored tone, before reaching up and grabbing one of her nipple rings and pulling her towards him.

"Well, I'll take the little one" the woman said, indicating Sophie, leaving Rebecca with the Master. Araminta grabbed my reins and yanked me forwards, almost pulling my tongue out of my head and making me stumble alarmingly. We were led down the corridor, our boots clopping loudly like real ponies, to a large door, which Reiki opened, letting in a blast of cold air, and then out into the bright sunlight. We stepped out into a courtyard, but I could see the fields and trees beyond and everything was covered in a thick blanket of snow ! No wonder we were freezing down in the dungeons, and now here we were, out in the depths of a Scottish winter, naked ! I glanced around at the house and caught a glimpse of a large country pile, but the evil little girl yanked impatiently on the reins and my head was pulled around and I staggered forward onto the snow-covered cobbles. As I did so, my foot slipped and I nearly did the splits, just recovering my balance in time. From behind me I heard a scream and looked around to see that Sophie had not been so lucky and was now lying face down in the snow. The little girl laughed, while Reiki, now looking bizarrely out of place in her basque and stockings, whipped the poor Sophie across her upturned buttocks with a riding crop, as the Mistress stood passively, waiting for her 'pony' to get up. Sophie struggled to her feet and we crossed the courtyard and went out through an iron gate. Outside, I understood what we were here for – in front of us were four small sleighs, each ready for one of us to be harnessed. Each sleigh had a bench seat for its driver and a whip next to it. I was taken to the front sleigh and the girl clipped the shafts to D rings on either side of my belt, took the reins back over my shoulders and I heard her climb on to the sleigh. I felt the reins flicked against my back, heard a 'Giddyup' and then felt the sting of the whip on my buttock. I took the weight of the sleigh and tried to drag it forward, surprised at how heavy it was and how difficult to get started. The whip struck me again and again as I inched forward, straining every muscle. Gradually, as the sleigh began to slide across the snow, it became a little easier to move and I gathered speed. I could not look around to see the others because of the blinkers, but all I was concentrating on was the urgent cries from the girl and the excruciating crack of the whip across my buttocks and thighs.

"Wait for the rest of us, Araminta" I heard from some way behind us, but I was being urged to go ever faster and I was panting as if I'd run five miles already, my breath steaming out in front of me, spittle shooting around the metal bit in my mouth and running down my chin, falling on to my breasts. All I could hear now was the rasping of my breath, the crack of the whip and, rather incongruously, the jingle of the bells attached to my nipples. I had to keep going until my lungs were bursting and the blood was pounding in my ears as the whipping went on, getting harder as she drove me on. At last I felt the reins pulled back and heard a 'Woah' and I slowed. The momentum of the sleigh took us on a few more yards, then my legs turned to jelly and I sank to my knees.

"Get up !" Araminta was now standing in front of me, brandishing a riding crop.

"I can't" I tried to say, but only earned a swipe of the crop across my breasts, making me howl in pain.

"Ponies say 'neigh', not 'ow'. Say 'neigh' for me" She hit me across the breasts again and I cried out again. This earned me another vicious blow and this time I forced myself to say 'neigh'.

"That's better. Now get up, the others will be here soon". I staggered to my feet, but it was a good ten minutes before Tanya pulled up next to me, hardly out of breath. The other two arrived at a leisurely pace a few minutes later.

"That was very naughty, Araminta", her mother scolded gently, "Your pony looks exhausted and thirsty, you need to give her a drink". The girl scooped up some snow in both hands and pushed it into my face, making me choke as she forced it into my mouth. I started to cough and splutter, but I saw the crop waved under my nose and the threatening look on Araminta's face, and I turned the cough into a 'neigh'.

"Araminta's started training her pony already, Sonya" Master Ivan said proudly to the woman, "Well done, darling".

We spent the next two hours dragging the sleighs around the estate, by which time not only was I frozen, aching and exhausted from the exercise, but my back, buttocks and thighs were striped by the whip and my mouth was sore from the tugging of the bit in my mouth to make me turn left or right. At last we came back to the house and were met by Reiki, who took us back into the tack room and stripped us of our pony attire, putting us back into our slave chains. The dungeon, weirdly, seemed to me almost like a sanctuary when we were locked away, but I was soon put straight on that score. Maybe half an hour after we'd got back and were just thawing out, the door opened and Reiki walked in with the son of the family, Rufus.

"You ! Up !" Reiki barked at Tanya, dragging her to her feet and across the dungeon. She unlocked the slave chains, then made her bend backwards over a wooden cross-beam. She tied her wrists and ankles to iron rings on the feet of the frame, stretching her and arching her back painfully, before picking out a ring gag and strapping it into her mouth. The three of us watched in silence, feeling sorry for the girl but thankful it wasn't us.

"Master", Reiki said with a little bow, and left the cell, closing the door behind her. Rufus strolled over to Tanya and stroked her naked body. Small yelps and gasps came from her as he fondled her large breasts, pinched and pulled her nipples, traced the lettering of her tattoo with his finger, then pushed his finger into her shaved pussy. Her yelps became louder as he pushed two and then three fingers into her, then she started to cry out as he forced all four fingers and his thumb in, eventually working his whole hand up there as Tanya screamed and cried out in pain. I winced in sympathy and felt terribly guilty that I was unable to help her – but I knew there was nothing I could do, he would just attack me if I tried to intervene. Rufus stopped trying to fist her and picked up a flogger, laying into her with wild abandon, whipping her breasts, stomach and thighs with as much force as possible, bringing piteous cries and screams from the poor girl. He unzipped his trousers and Tanya's cries were silenced as he thrust his cock into her mouth through the ring of the gag. But she continued to moan and cry out as best she could as he reached out and carried on flogging her across her pussy and on her inner thighs. Mercifully, the beating didn't go on much longer as the young man quickly reached his climax and splashed his cum in her face and over her tortured breasts. Fastening up his trousers, he turned his back on her and left the dungeon.

I became worried as Tanya sounded like she was choking, unable to breathe properly as his cum sat in her mouth and she was unable to either swallow it or spit it out. I looked at the door, hoping Reiki would come back in and release Tanya, but there was no sign or sound of movement. Unable to ignore the other woman's obvious distress, I nervously went over to her and tried to help her breathe. I unbuckled the gag, which enabled her to spit out his cum.

"Thank you so much" she said tearfully, "Could you untie me as well, this thing is breaking my back !" I glanced nervously at the door, wondering what would happen if Reiki came back now. But I couldn't leave Tanya like this, so I untied her wrists and ankles. At that moment, the door opened.

"What the fuck you doing ?" Reiki screamed at me "You are slave ! You don't get to free yourself or anyone else !" She strode across the cell and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me across the room to another piece of equipment, very similar to the beam Tanya had been bent over, but with a much sharper upper edge – I hope she doesn't bend me over that, I thought. If only. First she strapped a ring gag in my mouth, then she unlocked my slaves chains. She grabbed my right wrist, tied a length of rope to it and bent my arm up behind my back, before tying the other end of the rope around my neck, which threatened to choke me. She repeated this with my left wrist, so both arms were twisted painfully behind my back, then I felt her putting rope around both wrists and tying them together, then around my elbows and pulling them until I squealed in pain and alarm. As I tried to come to terms with this entirely novel (to me) way of being tied up, she grabbed the largest butt plug she could find and, making me bend over, forced it into me, ignoring my protestations. I let out another pained cry as she rammed it home, but things were about to get much worse. She made me put my leg over the beam and stand astride it, then she went over to the wall and pressed a button. There was a whirring noise above me and a length of chain was lowered in front of me. Reiki took hold of it and wrapped it around my neck several times, before locking it in place with a padlock. She went back to the wall and pressed another button and, to my horror, the chain started to go back up, tightening around my neck, but just as I started to think she was going to strangle me, she shut off the winch. She tied ropes to my ankles and I started to really panic when she pulled my left leg out to the side, looping the rope through an iron ring in the floor and tightening it until my leg was stretched out and my foot no longer touching the floor. She went to the other side of me and started pulling on the rope on my other ankle. I screamed as I sank down onto the beam, simultaneously tightening the chain around my neck until I was choking and pressing my pussy and the crack of my arse down onto the one-inch wide beam with all my body weight balanced there. She tied off the rope and went over to pick up the flogger which had been used on Tanya. She seemed to put all her effort into those blows as she thrashed me all over my body, starting on my breasts, moving to my thighs, then going behind me and whipping my shoulders, back and arms, expertly flicking the leather thongs across my buttocks, before starting again on my front, seeking out any inch of flesh which appeared unmarked. Tears were running down my face as the flogging went on and on, and at the same time the pain in my pussy was growing worse. I could just about rotate my hips to relieve the pressure on my pussy and clitoris, but as I rocked back even a little the monster plug was driven deeper inside me, causing me even more pain.

Eventually Reiki seemed to tire, but even then she wasn't done with me. She went off to her secret supply of torture devices and came back with two hideous-looking clamps, almost like you would jump-start a car with and, stretching out my nipples, applied a clamp to each. I screamed in agony as the metal jaws bit into my tender skin, then looked on in horrified disbelief as my Japanese tormentor then hung lead weights to the clamps, dragging my nipples down and making the jaws bite even harder. I had broken out into a sweat now and I looked into Reiki's face for even a hint of sympathy or pity, but her face was set hard as stone, with possibly a look of hatred mixed with disgust, before she turned away.

"As for you !" she shouted, looking down at Tanya, who was lying on the floor looking up in abject terror, "When your Master honours you with his cum, you accept it gratefully, not spit it out, stupid bitch !" She dragged her to her feet and started tying her up again, binding her arms very tightly together behind her back, then buckling her ankles to a spreader bar.

"Please, mistress", she pleaded, "Please don't be too harsh. Have mercy on me !". Reiki straightened up and slapped her hard across the face.

"I am not your mistress ! And you must know, I have no mercy". She picked up a large spongy red ball and forced it into her mouth, until her cheeks were bulging and her cries were stifled to a murmur. She took a roll of tape and wound it around Tanya's head, covering her mouth, then her lower face, then her eyes, then the rest of her face, until all that could be seen was her nose and the hair on top of her head. She then tied rope tightly around each of her breasts, pulling the nooses tight until her breasts were globes engorged with trapped blood, then wheeled some sort of metal frame over to her and tossed the ends of the ropes over the frame. Next she dragged two large metal balls across the floor next to her feet. With some difficulty, Reiki lifted each ball off the floor and tied the end of one of the ropes to the ring on the ball. When she let the ball go, it sank down towards the floor, taking up the slack in the rope and suddenly dragging Tanya onto her toes as her breasts were yanked upwards by the weight. I could see how distressed she was, but the gag and the tape ensured that hardly a sound escaped from her mouth. Reiki stood back with hands on hips, admiring her work and its effect on the young woman for a minute, before moving on to the next stage of her torment. Carefully, she tied strings to each of the rings inserted through her labia, tying the other ends to the frame at either side of her so that her pussy lips were spread wide, exposing her most tender flesh and her clitoris. Tanya must have been in a nightmare world by now, feeling what was happening to her but unable to see anything. Reiki picked out a particularly nasty looking whip, just a thin leather strand which was frayed into individual thongs at the end only an inch or two long and, taking careful aim, flicked it against the exposed clit. Tanya, not expecting or prepared for the blow and the excruciating pain it must have brought, screamed helplessly into the gag and struggled in her bondage, succeeding only in pulling on the strings holding her pussy and starting the balls attached to her breasts swinging from side to side, only adding to her distress. Her tormentor was in no rush, taking careful aim before landing another cruel blow on her sex. I watched all this taking place right in front of me, while the inescapable agony in my own pussy inexorably grew worse. I glanced over at the other two women, seemingly forgotten in this orgy of pain. They were huddled together in the furthest corner of the room, clinging to each other for comfort, looks of abject fear on their faces, hoping they would escape the punishment session.

The door to the dungeon opened and the Master and his Mistress came in. the Master was dressed in a white silk blouse with leather trousers and boots, while Mistress Sonya was in a black latex cat suit with stiletto boots.

"I see these two are occupied" Master Ivan said with a thin smile as he looked at me and Tanya..

"Master", Reiki said with a deep bow, "I had to punish them because –"

"No need to explain, Reiki" the Master said, waving her away, "If you feel they need to be punished, that is enough. We can play with these two". They strolled over to Sophie and Rebecca, who tried to cower further away, despite already being pressed into the corner of the room. Mistress Sonya leaned forward and grasped Sophie by the wrist, pulling her to her feet. Master Ivan unlocked the slave chains from the girl and the Mistress dragged her, whining and struggling, across her room. She hit her around the head a couple of times and told her to stop fighting, which seemed to subdue her. She took her to the far side of the room where a spreader bar hung from the ceiling by a chain and the Mistress lowered it using another winch. She strapped the cuffs at either end of the bar around Sophie's wrists and then activated the winch, slowly drawing the bar up and Sophie's arms up with it, until she was stretched onto her tiptoes. She shut off the winch and approached the whimpering girl, running her fingers over her body, circling her pierced nipples and flicking at the rings until the nipple stood erect. She pressed her latex-clad body against the naked flesh suspended in front of her, digging her long nails into the plump buttocks and lowering her head to suck on her nipples. Sophie's moans suddenly turned to cries, and I guessed the gentle nibble had turned into a firm bite. Mistress Sonya stepped back and started the winch again, raising the girl until she was well clear of the ground and gently twisting on the end of the chain. She picked up a bull whip and expertly swung it towards her victim, the end flicking up and catching her across the stomach. Sophie's screams, unencumbered by any gag, rent the air of the dungeon. I looked away as each crack of the whip raised another livid welt on the girl's smooth white skin and brought fresh screams and cries from her.

Meanwhile, Master Ivan had also released Rebecca from her chains and had made her lie on her stomach on the stone floor while he tied her into an intricate hogtie. He had lowered a chain over her with yet another winch and had tied the ropes around her wrists, ankles, shoulders and knees to an iron ring at the end of the chain. He strapped a ring gag in a head harness onto her and attached that to the ring with a rope to the D ring on the top of the harness, pulling her head sharply back, then tied a crotch rope tight around her waist, passing the free end between her legs before tying it to the ring as well. When he activated the winch, Rebecca's body was lifted smoothly off the floor, her back arching as the ropes tightened, pulling her head back and her feet up. From the gasps and grunts coming from her, I guessed the tension in her body was making it hard to breathe, although the grimace on her face also indicated that every muscle in her body was being strained, and that crotch rope looked very taut, cutting into her horribly. When she was about three feet off the ground, the Master halted the winch and attached two of the metal-jawed clamps to her nipples, which brought the same reaction from Rebecca as they had when applied to me – blinding pain as the sharp teeth bit deep into her flesh. Master Ivan now added weights to the clamps, but he applied much more weight than Reiki had to me, pulling her breasts down into conical shapes, the nipples stretched until they seemed several inches long. When it seemed he couldn't make it any more uncomfortable for Rebecca, he tied another rope to the crotch rope and added a sizeable weight to the end of it, so that her back was pulled into an even more extreme arch and the pressure of the rope on her pussy was increased even further. Seemingly satisfied with her bondage, he positioned himself in front of her and pushed his erect cock through the ring gag into her mouth. Rebecca's laboured breathing was now interspersed with coughs and retches as he thrust himself into her throat, her whole body swinging back and forth on the ropes as he fucked her hard.

My attention was suddenly brought back to myself as Reiki appeared in my line of sight with a look of hatred in her eyes. I glanced over at Tanya, to see that she was still in the same stress position, but a weighted clamp had been attached to her poor tortured clitoris. I guessed she must be in agony, but I was now more concerned by the riding crop being waved in front of me. Reiki struck me across the breasts with it, and my torment started afresh.

I don't want to think how long that session lasted, but eventually we were left alone, back on the cold stone floor, back in our slave chains, all groaning and weeping quietly at our own separate aches and pains, all huddling together for warmth and comfort. I realised with a creeping sense of dread that we had been there for precisely twenty four hours. I couldn't imagine how I was going to survive two weeks of this.


Part 6 (added: 12/19/2010)

The next few days took on a grizzly routine. We were woken each day with a soaking from the hose, followed by "slopping out", where we emptied the galvanised buckets we had to use to go to the toilet. We were then given a breakfast of thin, tasteless gruel, which was meant to sustain us until a similar meal in the evening. Throughout the time I was there, I was perpetually cold, hungry and scared.

We were assigned our jobs for the morning. If I was lucky, I would be inside, either in the kitchen or around the house. The kitchen was overseen by Mrs McAndrew, a battleaxe of a woman who made no secret of her disgust and contempt for us slaves, stating loudly that we wouldn't be there if we didn't want to be treated like shit, which was probably fair enough. She gave me work such as washing up, cleaning the oven or scrubbing the floor and surfaces, but she didn't get violent. The same couldn't be said for Morag, who was the housekeeper. As a member of staff, she was allowed – even encouraged – to abuse the slaves, and she always had a crop or whip with her to deal out punishments. A favourite trick of hers was to make me wear a ring gag while cleaning and then punish me every time any saliva dripped out of my mouth, before making me lick it up off the floor or surface on which it had landed. She made me clean every bath, sink and toilet with an old toothbrush, then sweep every carpet and hall with a hand brush and dustpan, which was hours of back-breaking work.

But it wasn't as bad as working outside. It was always bitterly cold and with no clothes or shoes, whoever worked out there came in crying from the pain of near-frostbite. There were also the men supervising outdoor work, Murdo the gardener and Donald, the groom.

Murdo was a vicious lecher in his fifties, who ensured he had a different slave each day to use and abuse. Sometimes there was a pretence of work, such as forking the frozen earth, or chopping and carrying logs into the woodshed, but he usually just used the afternoon to torture one of us and to make sure he got his rocks off. If it was too cold for him, he would drag me into the tool shed and take me whichever way he fancied, and as many times as he could manage. On one occasion, having released me from my slave chains, he tied my wrists together and fastened the rope to the back of his quad bike and roared off across the estate, with me running along behind, desperately trying to keep on my feet as we racing along muddy tracks, through deep puddles and across the virgin snow. When I did fall, he just kept on going, dragging me along behind until I could scramble to my feet and stagger on. He finally stopped after about two miles, and I collapsed, my lungs bursting and aching from sucking in so much frozen air. I was hoisted to my feet and onto my toes as he threw the rope over a tree branch and pulled it tight, before tying it to the trunk. I could only watch in mute fear as he strolled over to a group of young saplings and carefully selected a long, supple stem and brought it over to me. Without a word, he swung the stick and my screams rent the still air as he beat me all over my body until the stick was broken and useless. Then he went and chose another. By the time he had whipped me with that one as well, I was hanging from the rope, senseless. He released the rope and I fell down onto the snow on my hands and knees, which was just where he wanted me, as he came up behind me and forced himself into my anus. He pushed my face down into the dirt and snow, muffling my cries as he rode my arse until he reached his climax and spewed his cum up my back. I lay in the snow, shivering and exhausted, as he sat on the quad bike and smoked a cigarette. Then it was back to the house, running, sliding and falling behind the quad bike again.

You knew what to expect if you were ordered to the stables, Donald had a strict regime. I had to muck out the horses first – no fork or shovel, just bare hands. Then I had to wash and brush the horses, which took a while. Finally, Donald would call me into one of the stalls and make me give him a blow job. If it hadn't been so damned cold, this would almost have been a pleasant afternoon's work.

As the afternoon faded, we were all brought back to the dungeon and given our second 'meal' of gruel. The evenings were then spent waiting, in fear, for someone to come through that door, select you, and subject you to some hideous torture or abuse. It might be straddling the wooden beam, which was agony, or being suspended from the ceiling and beaten senseless. Or it might be being strapped down and taken in all three orifices at once, if three of them wanted you. Or it might be the cage. The first time I was put in there, it didn't seem too bad at first, just an iron cage shaped like a person, which you walked into and were locked inside. Then I realised every surface was covered in tiny sharp points, even under the feet, so I couldn't even stand in there without these tiny nails jabbing painfully into the soles of my feet, and any move I made to try and ease that pain brought me into contact with the nails in front or behind, pricking my buttocks, back, stomach or thighs. Reiki pulled my breasts through the bars in front and tightened the screws on some kind of vice, which squashed them down until they were horribly and painfully misshapen, also pulling me forward to the front of the cage and onto the spikes. There was a round hole in the cage at the front and I guessed this was where as gag would be fitted, but I was not prepared for what happened next. Reiki picked up what looked like a metal funnel and slid it through the hole, pushing it into my mouth, forcing my jaws apart and pressing my tongue against the floor of my mouth. I started to protest as she shoved it in further, until the point of it was almost in my throat against my tonsils. She locked it in place, then I heard a loud click and I started to go backwards. I hadn't realised the cage was in a frame and I was now being rotated onto my back. I screamed as the spikes on the back of the cage were driven into my skin by my own body weight, but there was nothing I could do, I couldn't move, all I could do was suffer. I screwed my eyes tight shut and tried to stem the tears.

When I opened them again, I was confronted by the sight of Reiki standing over me, her legs spread wide and her hairless, pierced pussy above my face. I wondered what hideous torture was coming next, but I didn't guess that she would start peeing on me, her warm urine splashing into my face and stinging my eyes. I let out a cry of surprise and protest, but this was cut off as she directed the stream at the funnel, and suddenly it was flooding into my mouth. Taken by surprise, I coughed and spluttered as the acrid liquid caught in my throat and I found myself choking on it, unable to turn away, close my mouth or even block the flow with my tongue. The taste was foul but I could do nothing but swallow it, gulping it down so I could breathe. Reiki kept the stream of piss targeted at the funnel, forcing me to drink it down as she emptied her bladder. It seemed to go on forever before the flow finally subsided, the last few drips splashing into my face. When I had swallowed the last of it, I was at least able to breathe, but my torment was not finished. The cage swung back to an upright position and I felt the tiny spikes ripping at the skin on my back as I sank back down onto my feet, which were again pressing down on the nails beneath them. But the cage did not stop, swinging forward until I was facing the floor and every inch of my front was now screaming in agony as I lay on the bed of tiny nails. I felt clamps close around my nipples and now my breasts were being dragged down towards the floor by heavy weights added to the clamps, making them bite viciously into the tender flesh around the areoles. The cage swung again, and I found myself upside down, my weight pushing down on my shoulders, bringing a new source of pain, then it swung on until I was on my back, then around onto my feet. The dizzying whirl of pain was repeated again and again, the weights on my nipples swinging wildly as I spun, causing me even more discomfort. By now I was delirious and crying out constantly as the Japanese woman continued the torture. When at last I was freed from the cage, I slumped to the floor, unable to support myself. By the time I has regained my senses, I was in my chains again and Reiki was gone.

And so it went on, day after day, night after night. Until, one morning. Reiki came in as usual, but instead of hosing us down, she came over to where we were just waking up.

"You !" she said, pointing at me, "Come with me !" Fearfully, I shuffled along behind her as she led me upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. The room was empty and I was surprised when Reiki unlocked the slave chains from me.

"You shower and dress, then come downstairs to drawing room" she said, then she did something I had not seen before – she smiled.

"Merry Christmas" she said and left, taking the chains with her. I was bemused, not understanding what was going on, but I'd heard the word 'shower' and I went through to the en suite bathroom quickly, before she changed her mind. I got under the warm water and stood there for what felt like hours, washing away the cold, filth and pain of what I now knew was the last week, although it felt like half a lifetime. I luxuriated in the feel of the water and the soap on my tortured skin until my fingers were wrinkled and I felt I had to get out. The towels were fluffy and white, caressing my body and wrapping me in warmth and comfort. I strolled through to the bedroom and saw the clothes laid out – underwear, stockings, heels and a little black cocktail dress. There was also a hairdryer and make-up on the dressing table. I put on the stockings and suspenders, then the black lacy panties and bra, revelling in the feeling of wearing clothes for the first time in many days. I dried my hair and applied some make-up, making myself feel almost normal, except for the bruises and raised red wheals on my skin, evidence of the frequent beatings I had suffered. When I put on the dress, it would have been difficult to believe I had spent the last seven days as a sex slave.

As I nervously went downstairs and opened the door of the drawing room, I wondered what was going on and suspicious that this was all going to be swiftly taken away from me. Rebecca and Tanya were already in the room, washed and dressed like me, Rebecca wearing a red dress and Tanya blue. They were sitting by a roaring fire with champagne glasses and eating sweet and savoury petit fours from a silver tray, looking for all the world like guests at a dinner party. With their encouragement, I took a glass from another tray and tried the food, which was melt-in-the-mouth gorgeous. We held a whispered conversation and it became obvious they knew no more than me. A few minutes later, Sophie joined us, dressed in a white cocktail dress. She tucked into the food and drink with little restraint, trying to assuage her hunger, and it was little surprise when, ten minutes later, she had to dash off to the nearest bathroom to be sick. When she returned, she was suitably chastened and nibbled nervously at the remaining delicacies.

About an hour later, when we were all a little drunk on the champagne, the door opened and Reiki came in. She was wearing a stunning kimono and was beautifully made up, the whole effect finished off with a friendly smile. She wished us all a Merry Christmas again and asked if we felt better after 'freshening up'. She led us through to the dining room and it was like entering a whole different world from the one we had experienced so far here in Scotland. There was an enormous tree in one corner, decorated with lights, tinsel and baubles, decorations all over the room and the table was set out with what looked like the best silver. The family were all there and they greeted us warmly, even the kids. Master Ivan asked if we had recovered from our 'ordeal' – the only reference to the systematic torture and abuse he and his family had subjected us to over the past week. The atmosphere was surreal as he and his wife made small talk and we tried to work out a suitable way to respond – should we call them Master and Mistress or act like we were with friends ? In the end I settled on treating it as a dinner party with the boss and his wife, all caution and deference, which seemed to work. I noticed Sophie seemed to be having a fairly normal conversation with the younger members of the family, who were nearer her age, while Rufus engaged Tanya in earnest conversation, like he was just chatting up any other girl. I almost felt sorry for him, seeing as she was a lesbian and would not be remotely interested in him. I had to keep reminding myself that these people were our jailers, tormentors and, at least in their own minds, our owners.

We sat down to the most sumptuous Christmas dinner, and by the end of it I felt entirely stuffed, rather drunk and very sleepy. As if guessing this, Reiki, who had also sat down with us at dinner, suggested we might like an afternoon nap, and showed us each to one of the guest rooms. I took off my dress and shoes and crawled under the duvet on the king-size bed, sinking into the wonderfully soft mattress. I was asleep in seconds.

When I woke up, I saw that it was nearly 7 pm. I got out of bed and, after fixing up my make-up and hair and putting on my dress, I went back down. There was a party in full swing in the ballroom, with lots of people I hadn't seen before. I met Rebecca as I went in and she explained that these were friends of the Master and local worthies from the nearby village. We wondered whether they knew we were being held here as sex slaves, but for some reason neither of us felt it appropriate to tell them – after all, it could be argued we were there willingly. I saw Tanya had extricated herself from Rufus and was chatting up some local girl, while he had transferred his attention to Sophie, who was clearly feeling the effects of the champagne she had taken on board and was flirting outrageously with him. I couldn't understand how she could bring herself to even be polite to him, never mind pressing herself against him in a slow dance and smooching in a dark corner, but then maybe she just wanted some human warmth and kindness.

The evening went by pleasantly enough, with Scottish dancing followed by disco, all accompanied by a constantly-available buffet and bottomless glasses of booze, replenished by waiters who I assumed had been hired in. As midnight struck, Reiki, who had changed out of the kimono and into her party dress, came up to me and said she just needed to see me and the others for a minute. As she led us back to the drawing room, I had a bad feeling, and it was confirmed when I saw the slave chains on the floor in front of us. Reiki turned to us, and the smile was gone.

"Get out of those dresses ! Christmas is over !" she said with some venom. Suddenly Sophie started to wail and made to get out of the room, back to the party. Reiki grabbed her and slapped her across the face, pulling at the dress until she had dragged it off her body, then forcing the chains onto her struggling body, the locks clicking into place with a horrible finality.

"You others, get those dresses off now, or you will be punished !" We stripped off the dresses and stood meekly as we were chained up once more. We were still wearing the underwear and stockings, and it must have looked like some particularly kinky version of the Benny Hill Show as we shuffled across the hall and back down to the dungeons in our bra and panties, suspenders and high heels, weighed down by chains and manacles.

We had been back in our prison for no more than five minutes when the door opened and Rufus came in. Sophie jumped to her feet and shuffled over to him, her face lit up with hope.

"Oh, thank God you've come !" she said breathlessly, "You've got to get me out of here, I can't take it any more !" He unlocked the chains and they clinched, their mouths pressed together in a passionate kiss. As they came up for air, he put his arm around her and led her towards the open door. But before they got there, he pulled her to one side and bent her over the table.

"Please, Rufus, you don't need to do this, you know I'll do whatever you want", she begged, even as he tied her wrists and ankles down, "I thought you loved me !" It was the last thing she said before he thrust the ball gag between her lips and strapped it on tight. He ripped away her panties and moments later he rammed his cock into her. I felt sick that this girl had had her hopes of freedom so cruelly dashed, and the three of us crawled away and averted our eyes as she was taken by the heartless young Master. When he had had what he came for and shot his load over her, he left her tied down and walked out without even a glance back. We had to listen to Sophie's pitiful sobs, all of us too frightened to go over and comfort her.

Only a few minutes later, the door opened again and Reiki entered, accompanied by the man I had been introduced to earlier as the local mayor. Behind him were four or five other men from the party, plus the girl Tanya had been chatting up. It was going to be a long night.

The rota of abuse, humiliation and torture resumed, and was perhaps even more intense. The girl Araminta seemed to have decided I was the fittest of the four of us, and nearly every afternoon I was put into my ponygirl harness and forced to drag her around the estate, through the woods, up hills and across the fields, until I was frozen and exhausted. I don't think she was allowed into the dungeon to torture us – some bizarre parenting decision that she was too young for such depravity, perhaps – but she made up for it with the whip on my back as she drove me hard.

As the days went by, I became more and more concerned about when, or even if, I would get away from this place. I knew the other three had no specific deadline – Sophie and Rebecca were 'kept' playthings, and Tanya worked as a pole dancer, so she wouldn't be missed at work – but I had to be back home for the start of the new term. But what if they didn't release us ? Who would ask questions ? Catherine could spin the school some line, and I didn't have any family who would look for me. The thought filled me with dread.

One morning the routine changed. The four of us were taken to the tack room and our arms strapped behind our backs, wrist to elbow, as usual. But instead of the pony bits we were each fitted with a ball gag head harness, and instead of the body harness we were made to wear only a leather belt with crotch strap and silver bells on our nipple rings and pussy lips. To complete these outfits, we were put into trainers rather than the hoof-boots. Then Reiki led us outside, into the cold, where she addressed us.

"It is New Year morning. The master has organised a hunt and you will be the hares. In order that you provide the best entertainment for the master and his guests, there will be a reward. The one who avoids capture the longest will be given their freedom". We looked at each other with a mixture of fear, excitement and confusion as the Japanese led us to the front of the house, where there was a great gathering of people laughing and drinking from their 'stirrup cups' – I recognised many of the Christmas guests – horses with their breath steaming in the clear morning air, and hounds barking and running around. As we approached there was a ragged cheer and glasses were raised in toast. Reiki picked up a bucket which had some foul-smelling substance in it, took a wide pasting brush and daubed it on each of us, across face, breasts, stomach, buttocks and legs. It stank, and I guessed it was maybe fox shit, which would allow the dogs to track us easily.

"Okay", Master Ivan shouted over the general chatter, "Our pretty hares will have ten minutes head start. Whoever gets to a slave first gets to keep her for the day ! Reiki, set them running !"

As we set off, I knew I had to win, and I felt confident I was the fittest and the fastest runner – all that exercise was going to come in handy. As I was thinking this and just getting into my stride, Rebecca, who had started alongside me, suddenly veered towards me and shoulder-barged me hard. Caught by surprise and off-balance, I careened sideways, down the slope at the side of the path, falling into the ditch and headlong into a snowdrift. All the wind was knocked out of me and I was half-buried in the snow, fighting for air and some grip to get to my feet. By the time I did, I was shivering and dripping, and the other three were disappearing into the distance. Fighting to avoid panic setting in, I took a precious moment to catch my breath and think. Having done so, I set off over the snow field, away from the path and the others. I knew that if the hounds chased me, I was in trouble, but hopefully they would follow the stronger scent of the other three, at least for a while.

I ran over the broken ground and thick snow like my life depended on it – which I felt it did – taking risks with twisted ankles or heavy falls, going as fast as I could until I reached my objective – the river. I knew the estate better than the others and I was hoping that if I could reduce the telltale stink on my body, the hounds might have more difficulty tracking me. I waded into the fast flowing stream before I had time to think about it, and cried out as the freezing water rose around me. In the middle of the river, with the water around my knees, I heard a horn sound in the distance and I guessed the head start was over. I sank down onto my knees and gasped as the icy water rushed against my stomach. Rushing on before I had time to back out, I dived under the water, trying to rub myself against the rocks at the bottom to get rid of some of the filth I had been coated with. By the time I broke the surface, I was gasping for air and in pain from the cold and knew I couldn't do that again. I got to my feet and staggered upstream, figuring I could cover my tracks and my scent by staying in the water as long as I could stand it. I waded through the water as fast as I could, all the time expecting to hear the baying of hounds behind me. I reached the edge of a copse of woods before clambering out over rocks, to further hide my exit point, and headed into the deepest part. I tried to ignore the branches and brambles which whipped against and scratched my naked body as I pushed into the thick undergrowth, hoping the hounds or at least the horses couldn't follow. Eventually I squatted down under a bush and listened out for my pursuers.

I could hear the hounds in the distance, but was sure they weren't coming my way. I wondered what was happening to the others, and I couldn't stop myself hoping they had already been caught. After a while, I heard the little bells on my breasts jingling, and I realised it was because I was shivering violently. Although I felt I had found a good hiding place, I knew I had to move or I would freeze, so I racked my brains of where to go next. I had tried to wash off the fox dung but I still smelled awful, and I wondered if I might be able to mask the stink in some way. So I set off on a roundabout route, trying to stay under cover, back towards the main house. Although this seemed suicidal, I hoped it would be the last place they would look, plus there was a specific place I was heading for. After nearly an hour of meandering around the estate, I approached the outhouses with caution, keeping an eye out for Murdo or Donald working around there. I crept around the buildings until I spotted my destination – the pig sty. I had been forced to shovel pig shit on several occasions and I knew it was pretty bad, but just perfect to disguise my smell. Taking a furtive look around, I scurried over to the fence and forced my way between the bottom two bars, before rolling on the floor. I crawled over to the muddiest, smelliest, filthiest patch and rolled in it like a pig, rubbing my face and body in it. This attracted the attention of Daisy, the sow, who trotted over and poked me with her snout. When I saw the boar, Napoleon, heading in my direction, I ran for the fence and squeezed through, not wanting to see him get interested in me.

"Oi, what are you doing there ?" As soon as I heard Murdo's voice, I scrambled to my feet and started running. Behind me, I heard two voices – Donald was there too – then the roaring of quad bikes. I knew I had no chance – the trees were two hundred and fifty yards away – but I kept running as hard as I could. The engines roared alongside me and then one was in front of me, throwing snow up into my face. I felt a boot against my thigh and I went down, sprawling face down in the deep snow. By the time I could look up, they were both stood over me, leering down. They grabbed me and hauled me up, then pushed me across the seat of one of the bikes. I felt the crotch strap between my legs loosened, and the harness on my head being unbuckled. Soon I had Donald's familiar member in my mouth and Murdo was taking me from behind. I was too exhausted and cold to care much what they did, and I was just glad it was over when they spurted their cum in my mouth and pussy respectively. They pushed me off the bike and into the snow while they lit up.

"What do we do with her now ?" Donald asked, "Take her to the boss ?"

"No", Murdo said, casually spitting on me, "That'll spoil their fun. We'll just tell 'em where she is"

"But she'll just run away again and we'll get it in the neck"

"Hang on, I've got an idea" Murdo took a ball of twine from his jacket pocket and came over to me. He tied a length of it between my knees and another between my ankles, hobbling me so I could walk but not run.

"There, that'll slow her down" They laughed and got on the bikes, ensuring as they left that they covered me in snow. I struggled to my feet and watched them race away, before shuffling as fast as I could towards the trees. I had got about half way when I heard the dogs, and I was almost at the first trees before I saw the horses coming into view. As I finally made it into the small copse, I was suddenly surrounded by barking, snarling foxhounds. As I tried to speed up, I felt them biting at my calves and then one of them was right in front of me and I fell over it. Now I was down and I could feel paws on my back, tongues licking me and teeth grazing my buttocks. I managed to turn over but this just made it worse as they licked my face and breasts, I even felt a cold wet nose pushed between my legs. As I looked up I saw a horse towering over me, its rider looking down at me triumphantly.

"The last one's mine !" she cried and I almost wept with relief – I was the last ! I was dragged to my feet, a rope was put around my neck, and I was forced to walk back to the house behind the horse, but I was happy, I was going home.

Later that night, when the hunting party had finally had enough of torturing and tormenting us, Reiki came into the dungeon.

"My Master has been very generous, he decide tomorrow you all go back to your own Masters and Mistresses, not just winner". That brought a lot of tears of relief and we all hugged each other at the thought of our impending freedom. Cynically, I think there was always an agreement we would be there for two weeks only, but I can't prove it.

The next morning, our elation was tempered a little when we realised we would be crated up and transported in just as uncomfortable a way as we had arrived, but at least we were on our way home.

As the van rattled back down south, I thought about all the nightmares I had endured over the last two weeks and I thought back to the moment my 'friend' Catherine had effectively sold me into slavery on the turn of a card, and a boiling hatred rose up inside me. I will have my vengeance, I thought, in this life, not the next !


Final Part (added: )

Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and this would be pretty chilly by the time I got my opportunity. I got back into the swing of work, taking care to make sure no-one saw my piercings, tattoo, and cuts and bruises before they healed up. I also got back into the swing of being Catherine's sub – I told myself it was just cover until I took my revenge, but the truth is I enjoy being a sub, it's my natural role, and I just adore being bound and gagged incredibly tight, preferably in rubber ... just writing this is getting me all hot and flustered.

Derek seemed far more interested in me now that I was 'marked' as a slave, as though it allowed him to see me as a slave, rather than as a rather accommodating friend of his wife. He took to whipping me, as well as fucking and buggering me whenever the fancy took him.

My opportunity came at the half-term break in February. Derek went off to Portugal for a golfing week with his buddies, so he was out of the way. Catherine said she had a 'surprise' in store for me, but she would be the one getting the surprise ! To make it perfect, after a mild winter, Devon was hit by a dump of two feet of snow. As I tramped through the snow at 6 am on Saturday morning, I was excited at the prospect of finally getting my own back on Catherine, who had shown no remorse or guilt at her behaviour and the fact that I now bore the permanent marks from the previous 'surprise' – she seemed to think it suited me !

I changed into my rubber maid's outfit when I got there, partly because I thought she would not suspect what was coming if I was dressed as normal, but mainly because I loved the feel of the latex against my skin. As usual, I admired myself in the hall mirror, but this time I allowed myself to run my gloved hands over the rubber, feeling the hardness of my nipples and the wetness of my pussy. I tried to stop myself, but within minutes I was gasping for breath and my fingers were pressing against my pussy and pinching my nipples hard, and suddenly I was biting my lip and whining as quietly as I could as I came to an explosive climax.

Of course, this left me feeling drained, which was exactly what I had feared, but I just hadn't had the willpower to resist. I gathered myself and managed to resist the temptation to just give up and go for a second orgasm, instead focusing on the plan – I took the handcuffs and gag I had brought with me and crept up the stairs. As I peaked around Catherine's bedroom door, I could see she was still fast asleep, as expected – she rarely surfaced before 9 am. I tiptoed into the room and across to the bed, then very gently lifted the duvet off her, revealing her slumbering form, wrapped up in rather incongruous baby-doll pyjamas. She was sleeping on her front and a sleepy arm reached out behind her for the cover as I pulled it back, and I took the opportunity to click a handcuff bracelet around her wrist. She started to come out of her deep sleep now, mumbling something, but it was too late, I grabbed her other arm and twisted it behind her, before closing the other cuff.

"Hmmm, Sally ? What's going on ? What the fu-mmmmpfh !" Her indignant protests were cut off as I stuffed the penis gag into her mouth and strapped it as tight as I could. She was choking and retching on the rubber phallus – she probably hadn't given her husband a blowjob in ten years, so she wasn't used to it, but I had little sympathy. I grabbed her by the arms and dragged her out of the bed and down the stairs to the dining room. I pushed her down in a chair and grabbed the rope I had left there, wrapping it around her struggling body rather inexpertly but effectively enough to ensure she couldn't get up. Now that she was securely restrained, I had a chance to catch my breath and take more care as I tied her ankles to the back legs of the chair, forcing her to spread her legs either side of the seat, then secured her wrists by tying the handcuffs to the cross piece between the chair legs. I stood back and watched her struggle violently but entirely ineffectually, angry but incoherent sounds escaping around the gag and there was much shaking of the head.

"How does it feel, Catherine ?" I smiled, "When your 'friend' tricks you and subjects you to days of cruel punishment ? Not so nice, is it ?" She kept on shaking her head and trying to shout at me but I ignored her. I picked up a pair of scissors and carefully cut away her pyjamas, having to slice them up pretty small to get them from under the ropes on her bound body. But at last she was naked and I moved on to her hair. She had black hair down below her shoulders, but not for long – my first cut took it off above the collar. I have no training in hairdressing, so my attempt at a pageboy cut was pretty woeful, leaving her with a spiky and uneven finish, with her ears and neck bare. She was looking very annoyed by now, with murder in her eyes, but I just gave her a sweet smile, then reached down and grabbed a handful of her pubic hair, before snipping it away and trimming it as short as I could. I wasn't worried about the stubble – I would deal with that later.

I couldn't do the body modifications – the piercings and the tattoo – I had suffered, but I could at least make her understand a little of what it felt like. I had brought a permanent marker pen and I used it liberally, scrawling C-U-N-T on her forehead, S-L-U-T across her breasts and S-L-A-V-E across her lower abdomen. I also had three sets of nipple clamps, each pair joined by thin silver chains. I placed the first pair conventionally, biting into her large, soft nipples, and I was rewarded by the look of pain as she screwed up her eyes. The second pair were a little more difficult to apply, as she saw what I was doing and struggled like a maniac to escape. But she couldn't escape, and I enjoyed her screams as the metal clips bit into the soft flesh of her pussy lips. I watched her squirm and cry for a while as she tried to come to terms with the pain, before I applied the third pair. One end harmlessly attached to the chain between nipples; for the other end I reached down and spread her clamped lips and teased her clitoris to erection. I could hear the pleading tone in her whimpers now, but I merely enjoyed the sense of power as I closed the steel around her swollen clit and listened to her scream and wail as if the gag wasn't even there.

I took the opportunity to readjust Catherine's arm bondage, tying her wrists securely so I could remove the handcuffs, and then forcing her elbows together until she squealed in protest and cinching them nice and tight. I then went off to get my own little surprise, and when I re-emerged in front of my former mistress, the look of horror and fear on her face was a wonderful sight. I had bought myself a strap-on dildo, twelve inches of shiny black rubber sticking out from my groin and waving in her terrified face. I was starting to get a feeling of the aphrodisiac effects of total power over another woman and, as I untied her from the chair and dragged her to her feet, I whispered a threat into her ear.

"I'm going to enjoy fucking you, Catherine – you've certainly fucked me, one way or another, over the past few months". I hustled her through the kitchen, ignoring her garbled pleading and pathetic struggles, as I opened the back door and shoved her out into the snow. It looked terribly cold around her bare feet and, when I planted my platform boot against her bony arse and gave a hefty shove, it looked cold all over as she fell headlong and sprawled at my feet. When she had struggled, shivering, back to her feet, I pushed her in front of me, down the garden, to the tree from which I had, on many occasions, been suspended and whipped. I tied a length of rope to Catherine's wrists and, throwing it over a convenient branch, hauled on it until she was bent over with her arms straight up in the air behind her, leaving her tottering on her toes and totally vulnerable.

"Are you ready for me, cunt ?" I taunted, as I positioned myself behind her and grabbed her hips. There was a last desperate squeal before I pulled on the clamps to spread her pussy lips wide and plunged the huge dildo into her gaping hole with as much force as I could manage, drawing a howl of pain from my victim. As I pounded her pussy, we both knew this wasn't about sex, but power, the fact that she had, in my view, abused it and I had taken it from her and was going to make her suffer. After a while I pulled out and found a bamboo cane poking out of the snow and started giving her cheeks a good beating, relishing her screams and wails as she danced around on the end of the rope trying to get away from the blows raining down on her now-glowing arse.

It started to snow again, big wet flakes coming down in flurries until it was almost blizzard conditions. I decided to retreat back to the house, but felt Catherine should suffer a little longer and, as I looked back from the kitchen door, I could just about make her out, as the snow turned her roughly cropped hair white and started to drift around her legs. Poor lamb, I thought, she must be so cold, just as I had been up in Scotland, being forced to drag that sledge around. I smiled to myself and went inside to warm up and enjoy a well-earned drink. I lit a fire and poured myself a glass of wine, then made myself some lunch before finally relenting and going to check on Catherine. There had been several inches of snow in the couple of hours she had been out there and that, combined with the growing wind, had left her hunched body half covered as she shivered uncontrollably. I felt a sudden pang of pity, plus a little bit of guilt, and I untied her from the tree and helped her back into the house and in front of the blazing fire. Her shivering became even more violent as she started to warm up and the melting snow dripped off her, making quite a wet patch on the rug.

I wasn't sure what to do next. The truth was that I was not very good at this Domme role – I kept imagining myself as the one tied up and suffering, and there was a little bit of regret that it wasn't. Not quite enough to free my former Mistress though – I compromised by making her lie down on the rug and tying her ankles together, before putting her into a strict hogtie, her ankles bound close to her wrists, forcing her to arch her back. Gradually, she stopped shivering and pretty soon her face was flushed from the heat of the fire and the dripping snow was replaced by a sheen of sweat.

I remembered I hadn't dealt with that pubic fuzz of hers, so I rolled her onto her side and removed the clamps from her nipples, pussy lips and clit. I watched her writhe and whine as she suffered the exquisite agony of blood rushing back into the areas of pinched flesh. When she seemed to have got over the worst of it, I smeared a liberal coating of depilatory cream over her stubble and topped up my wine and threw a couple of logs on the fire as I waited for it to take effect. When I wiped the cream away, I was pleased to find she was as smooth as a baby's bottom – "Just like a proper slave" I said with a wicked smile. I slipped my finger between her now bare lips and teased her sore clitoris, eliciting a satisfying moan of discomfort and possibly outrage, which encouraged me to continue to toy with her defenceless body. I pushed a finger into her surprisingly moist vagina, whilst continuing to rub her swelling clit, and was rewarded by her moans becoming louder and her attempts to spread her legs wider and provide me with better access. I forced a second rubber-clad finger into her hole, which was now glistening with her juices, and dug deep to press on her G-spot. Her face was flushed red, and not just from the heat of the fire, as she gasped for breath and moaned her appreciation for my attention. I pinched her nipples with my other hand, bringing a cry of pain as well as pleasure from her, until she finally came with a strangulated cry, squirting her juices onto my hand. I wiped my sticky fingers on her face, making sure she could smell just how strong her feminine scent was.

At that moment, the doorbell rang and the effect on Catherine was surprising. Her eyes immediately widened in fear and she started to try to speak as she shook her head violently from side to side. I hadn't intended to go to the door but this extreme reaction intrigued me – who was she expecting, that she seemed so frightened of actually meeting ? It could be the vicar, I thought – I'm sure he would be interested to see her tied up on the rug, as well as my rather fetching latex outfit. I went out to take a look through the spy hole, as much to wind up Catherine as to find out who was there. I saw a man I didn't recognise, who looked rather middle-eastern, with his dark complexion, large hooked nose and big bushy moustache, and he was wearing a very expensive-looking coat. Behind him I saw a big black limousine with tinted windows and I was rather curious to find out who this was – it could be the several glasses of wine I'd supped were clouding my brain, but I opened the door a crack.

"Can I help you ?" I asked. He turned to look at me with disdain.

"I am here to see your mistress" he said haughtily.

"I'm sorry", I said, a little alarmed that he knew I was either a servant or a sub, "She is not in at the moment. Who shall I say called ?" He stared into my eyes, holding my gaze until I had to lower my eyes.

"I think you should let me in – now" he said and pushed the door open as I stumbled backwards. Behind him I saw for the first time the woman who was accompanying him, and I knew immediately I was in trouble. She was covered from head to toe in a cloak, but the ring through her nose and the huge iron rings in her ears convinced me she was the sub of the man who had just swept past me. As she came in, she unclipped the cloak and placed it on the coat stand, and confirmed my initial reaction. She was naked apart from leather boots and a wide belt around her waist, but that wasn't the most startling facet of her appearance. That was her breasts, which were enormous for her slight frame and quite clearly artificially enhanced. The large nipples were pierced by metal rings which matched those through her nose and earrings, and were joined by a silver chain to a similar ring which must have been inserted in a piercing through her clitoris. As well as these markings, she also wore a thin steel collar around her neck which seemed to have no lock, as though it had been permanently welded in place.

"Well, well, Catherine, what have we here ?" The man had gone into the living room and obviously found Catherine lying there. I hurried in and saw my former mistress struggling frantically and shaking her head, her attempts to speak totally garbled by the gag.

"It looks to me as though you are having trouble controlling your slave". He glanced over at me with a look of disgust.

"As for you, you clearly need a firm hand and proper discipline. Number 2, get Jenkins and my equipment from the car". The naked girl trotted off, not bothering to put her cloak back on before going outside. The man bent down next to Catherine and removed the gag from her mouth.

"Shazad" she croaked, "Take this girl as your slave if you wish, but you must free me !"

"Oh, really ?" Shazad replied as he toyed with her breasts, "It seems to me that you need as much training as she does".

"No ! You can't !" Catherine said desperately "I am a Mistress ! My husband ... you can't !" she ended lamely.

"You forfeited your position as 'mistress' when you allowed your slave to get ideas above her station and get the better of you. I know Derek will understand and I'm sure he will appreciate your re-training". I realised that this was the 'surprise' – Catherine had intended to share me with another Dom, just lie Christmas.

As Catherine continued to protest and plead, the slave girl returned with another man, Jenkins, dressed in a dark suit and chauffeur's hat, carrying a leather bag. He knelt down beside Catherine's prone body and took a gag from the bag. It was a black leather panel gag which covered the lower half of her face and had three straps to hold it in place. Jenkins attached a tube to the front of the panel and squeezed the bulb at the end of the tube. Catherine's frantic protests were quickly stifled altogether as the bladder in her mouth expanded, pressing her tongue to the floor of her mouth and forcing her jaw tight against the chin strap. He applied a series of leather belts around her chest, stomach, thighs, calves and ankles, then pulled her legs up so her heels were against her buttocks and strapped them in place. Finally he tied a rope between two of the straps and used this as a handle to pick her up and carry her out to the car like a suitcase.

I watched all this passively, as if it is was nothing to do with me. Of course I knew that my actions had led to this situation where Catherine was in effect being kidnapped but, as this new Master had said, it was really her own fault. I should have been worried about my own freedom as well, but somehow that was not high on my priority list.

The girl, Slave Number 2, took a very long piece of rope from the bag and handed it to her master. He doubled it over and, as he went behind me, he wrapped it around my body, across my chest above my breasts. I stood there, unresisting, as he knotted and wrapped the rope around my torso, framing my breasts, pinning my arms, binding my wrists. He cinched the ropes at every opportunity, between and at either side of my breasts so they were framed and squeezed by the white rope, each turn making the rope tighter across my chest and stomach. Soon I was only able to take shallow gasps – not just because the rope was so tight that it restricted my breathing but because the rope was so tight that it was really turning me on. The ropes criss-crossed my upper body about a dozen times when the Master spread my feet slightly so he could apply the rope between my legs and, as he pulled it through and yanked it tight between my buttocks, I reached an incredible climax, which continued to hit me as he further tightened all the ropes and finally tied off the end of the rope.

The slave girl handed the Master another piece of rope and he started on my legs, working from ankles to below and above the knees, then across my thighs, tying it to the rope at my waist, front and back, so there was no slack and the ropes all just pulled tighter if I bent forward or straightened up. I had never been tied this tightly before and it felt amazing. Meanwhile, the girl took out a gag similar to the one used on Catherine and strapped it onto my face. As she pumped the bladder, it felt like I was going to die from asphyxiation, with my mouth completely filled and my jaw stretched open as far as the gag would allow.

I was lowered to the floor and my legs were doubled over and tied together, then a rope was tied to the back of the gag and then to the rope around my shoulders, pulling my head right back. I realised I couldn't move a muscle, except to wiggle my fingers, which was not much use. At that point, Jenkins came into the room and picked me up by the ropes around my body and carried me out to the car. The boot was open and as I was loaded into it, I saw Catherine's frightened face, before the boot slammed shut, leaving us in pitch black.

As the engine started and the car pulled away, I wondered what fate awaited me at this journey's end.


Epilogue – www.devonbondagegirl.com

Hi, welcome to my website. Unfortunately, this is the last post I will be making here, as my new master does not wish his business discussed here. He has generously given me permission to make this final update.

As you can see from my final pictures, I no longer hide behind a mask. This is because my life as Sally Whitmarsh, teaching assistant from Devon, is over – I am now Slave Number 8 in my Master's harem here in Abu Dhabi. You will also see that my Master has ensured I satisfy his requirements, by having my breasts enlarged, my piercings modified and my permanent slave collar fitted.

My former mistress underwent six weeks of intensive slave training and has returned to her husband and now Master. I understand she is a very obedient slave.

I do not know what the future holds for me. The rumour amongst the harem is that slaves are sold off when they reach thirty, to less discerning masters. Until that time, I must serve my master as loyally and obediently as I can.

Thank you for reading my story. Goodbye.