Author's Note: A mixture of fantasy and reality for me. Well . . . ok, mostly fantasy, but not all of it. ;) Sorry it's so long. I couldn't stop myself! Comments welcome.


Rhonda awoke with a fair amount of soreness and stumbled to the kitchen in her teddy, shaking out the cobwebs and following the smell of fresh coffee.

"Morning, my pet," Clark remarked looking up at her with a smirk from her newspaper. Rhonda winced at his presence. She was hoping he had let himself out already. Rhonda had a little over an hour to prepare before her BFF, Claire, arrived for an extended weekend of playtime. Clark didn't know about Claire, and Claire didn't know about Clark. Rhonda was hoping to keep it that way.

"I thought you were heading to the cape this weekend," she croaked at him. "Some reunion, or something."

"I still am. Want to come with me? Meet some of my friends? Get a nice suite on the beach? You can bring some of your toys if you want." He was pouring it on thick this morning, Rhonda thought to herself. She liked him well enough, but he still didn't grasp what she really wanted in a relationship, yet. She had a need, and reluctant though she was to it, it was powerful and she was through fighting it anymore. Rhonda craved bondage; sometimes constant, prolonged bondage. Clark was helpful, and learning how to satisfy her cravings, but he was still a part-time lover for her, and only an innocent flirtation in her mind. Her real partner in rope was Claire, who'd been her on-call safety and girlfriend for two years.

Rhonda met Claire online, at one of those fet-life dating sites. She hadn't expected anything to come of it, initially, and was pleased to find someone who shared her interests living just a few streets down from her house in Newton. They got involved slowly at first, with one acting as a safety for the other's self-bondage sessions. Then one night Rhonda forgot to call in after her session and was caught off guard when Claire appeared in her living room after letting herself in with the set of keys she'd been given. Rhonda was quite embarrassed, as she had been lounging on her couch, naked, fingering herself at the time while watching a movie. She'd frozen at the intrusion, holding in her ragged breath behind her ball-gag and looking her future lover in the eyes. The cuffs on her wrists and ankles told Claire the whole story. "You really like being tied up, don't you?" she giggled. The two of them then sat down for a cup of tea after Rhonda had cleaned herself up and put on a bathrobe. She apologized to the dark-haired Claire for forgetting to call and they began swapping stories and becoming fast friends. Not long after that, they began having regular sex, and enjoying some joint self-bondage sessions. Claire was a self-professed bi-sexual, but Rhonda had told Claire that she was a straight-up lesbian. She didn't want to have to go back on her word and explain some guy's presence in her house on the morning of their biggest adventure together.

"I can't go with you this weekend, Clark, I have my friend coming into town."

"'Clark'?", he queried. "What happened to 'Master this' and 'Master that' and 'Take me on the floor, Master?'" He got up and stepped behind her, running his fingers over her body as she mixed creamer into her cup. Rhonda squirmed and twisted away when his hands moved between her legs. Clark didn't argue with her, but Rhonda knew he was upset when he left a few minutes later. She thought she heard him mutter something under his breath; something like, "I'll be back, bitch", but she couldn't be sure. She'd make it up to him next week, she told herself. Now it was time to prepare for some real fun! She shook off her concerns for Clark and headed downstairs to the basement to get everything ready.

Rhonda wasn't rich, but she'd had some very good fortune thus far in her career. Eleven years of steady employment and frugal, single living had paid off her modest house and left her a large, monthly sum to buy bondage gear and toys. She and Claire had spent last summer giving her basement a fetish makeover. Plush, dark carpet now adorned her sound-proofed basement floor and walls. They had installed several leather benches, an x-cross, a rack, a couple of large dog cages, adjoining jail cells separated by iron bars, and a vibrating bed covered in red, satin sheets. Each girl had her own personalized closet of gear, bindings, and gags. Rhonda's form was slightly shorter than Claire's 5'7" frame, and slightly plumper too. Losing weight was not an issue for Rhonda, however, because Claire constantly told her how her body was perfect and voluptuous. Claire was a bit leaner than Rhonda, due to her height, but her breasts and hips also gave her a picturesque hourglass shape.

Rhonda slid open the shelving doors that held Claire's gag collection. This was a little tradition they'd adhered to ever since they started sharing bondage experiences with each other. While they would often bind themselves identically, each girl would pick out a gag for the other to wear. It gave the whole adventure an extra twist of excitement, not knowing which gag one would be wearing for the next 2, 4, or 8 hours straight. Rhonda picked out Claire's largest red ball gag and laid it out on the bed for her. It had a chin strap to keep it firmly attached to her jaw, but did not have the traditional trainer straps on it, the ones that went above the bridge of the nose and over the top of the head. Rhonda knew that Claire liked to be pushed to her limits. The big ball would cause her much pain over the next two days, but she knew Claire wanted it that way. She checked to make sure the hole in the middle of the ball would mount properly to the feeding tube of the machine they'd just saved up for. It was a sanitary food storage device connected to a tube and nozzle. Duel compartments within it would hold cinnamon oatmeal and H2O for their session. All a gagged girl had to do was suck on it to get nourishment, provided she wore a gag that mated with the nozzle of the feeding tube.

Rhonda skipped happily back upstairs to whip up about ten servings of oatmeal while reflecting on how she and Claire had gotten to this point. It was Claire who'd started it, really. After they had met a few more times to talk about self-bondage and describe to each other why it was such a turn-on, Claire purposely sabotaged her key-release system one night. When Rhonda finally arrived at her apartment, she found Claire on her back, naked with wrists cuffed to ankles and elbows cuffed to knees staring up at the ceiling where her key was caught in the pulley by a knot that she had put in the string. The first thing Rhonda noticed was the sparkle of wet pussy as it glistened against the bedroom lamplight. "Come closer. I need to tell you something," Claire had said to her after Rhonda had removed her gag. Waiting until Rhonda had bent closer to her, Claire spread her legs and lunged forward to lock lips with her. After 15 minutes of making out, during which time Rhonda took full advantage of Claire's still vulnerably bound body by running her hands up and down her form, Claire finally gasped: "I haven't come yet! I've been waiting for you all night!" Without a word, Rhonda then knelt over Claire's head and leaned forward to complete the 69 position.

Rhonda snapped out of her revere when Claire called out her greetings from the front door. "I'm early, Hun," the brunette bellowed while dropping her travel bag in the main hallway. "I couldn't wait to get started so decided to get here early." Rhonda fumbled with the water kettle and almost dropped it, dizzy with lust after nostalgically thinking of their first night together. Things moved pretty fast after that night. Infatuated with each other, they spent every night together for the next two weeks. They spent much of their time binding each other, practicing rope techniques, and testing escape methods. Each time they bought a new toy or researched a new bondage position, they fought over who would get to try it first. It soon after became apparent that each one loved being bound by the other, but wasn't really that interested in doing the binding. So, naturally, they began to explore ways in which they could bind themselves at the same time. The 18 months that followed were a blur to Rhonda now. The memories of hundreds of lovemaking bondage sessions had become all jumbled up: their limbs constricted by chain; their flesh marked and bruised by steel cuffs, their lips parted violently with large rubber balls; and their pussies, slick with desire and grinding into each other. Lately, their sessions had been getting longer, and more extreme, testing their limits.

"Think we should fuck first?" Rhonda called out to her partner. Her face felt flushed as her sex tingled with anticipation. Claire rounded the corner into the kitchen and greeted her partner with a deep, slow kiss. "Mmmmm. I love that teddy! Did you put that on just for me?"

"Of course!" lied the blonde. "What have you got on under that coat?" Claire backed away and let her overcoat slip off her arms. She was completely naked, except for her heels. "Hmmm. I approve." She giggled. Claire described her latest trip to the mall while she clicked the ratchets shut around her wrists and ankles with some cuffs she pulled from her coat pocket. Rhonda and Claire had matching sets of these cuffs. They both had long chains connecting them so as not to completely inhibit movement about Rhonda's house. They just liked wearing cuffs around the home and when prepping for long bondage sessions. Their normal routine involved a shower, then make-up and wardrobe before setting their release mechanisms, all whilst wearing shiny, steel cuffs. The morning's enema was an additional step for this particular adventure. "Where are your cuffs? Get out of that teddy!" Claire scolded as she playfully slapped at Rhonda's ass, causing her own chains to jingle.

"Ok! Ok. Just a minute." She let Claire take over the oatmeal preparation and hustled upstairs to her bedroom. Rhonda nostalgically recalled their very last session together as she stripped and locked on her own cuffs. There were many O-rings bolted to the walls and floor of her basement. Last weekend Rhonda and Claire had bolted their matching collars to a couple of O-rings twenty feet apart. They had carefully measured and left just enough slack so that when they leaned forward and back toward each other, their asses would touch. Claire had a double-ended dildo mounted to her pussy, with one end buried inside her and the other sticking out like an erect penis. They spent eight delightful hours bucking into each other back to back on all fours coming repeatedly, with their leashes stretched to the limit, pulling at their necks. Rhonda loved every second of it. She loved the feel of the dildo, the tightness of the cuffs that held her hands to her hips, the tightness of her corset, the sloppiness of the drool that constantly spilled out of her squealing mouth spread wide by her ring-gag. She loved that she could scream as loud as she wanted now and the neighbors would never hear it. She loved that she could do elbow ties now that she had a partner.

What made last weekend even more fun was that they had done it blindfolded. This had made the impalement of Rhonda's pussy upon Claire's dildo a difficult, and frustrating, task, but not an impossible one. Even after the key dropped, they still fucked each other, ass to ass, for an extra hour, just to maximize their orgasms. They never seemed to want their sessions together to end. Rhonda knew this weekend might be different, and she was overflowing with excitement.

The young women frenched in the shower and took turns scrubbing each other. They went through the final steps of preparation together between kisses. One of the things that made bondage so much fun, they knew, was orgasm denial. As much fun as the previous session had been, they both wanted to try orgasm denial for a large chunk of the weekend. They still liked the set up from last weekend, but wanted to try complete separation with orgasm denial, and tighter bondage. Stimulation was still acceptable, the more the merrier actually, but absolutely no cumming until release, and even then, only a partial release. They still wanted to fuck while bound when the time was up, so while the first stage of timed release would let them screw, a second stage of timed release was required for complete freedom. To accomplish this feat, they decided to use chastity belts. The key to their belts and an extra few feet of slack on their leashes would be set to release after 24 hours. The remaining keys, including the ones to their gags, would release about 12 hours after that, giving them plenty of time to penetrate each other's bodies.

Rhonda shoveled lukewarm oatmeal into the containment canister downstairs while Claire locked the door to the house and checked all the windows. Then Claire picked out a fat ball-gag for her partner while Rhonda set up the feeding tubes. The set up was simple. Each girl would be tethered by the neck to her side of the room. With only seven or eight feet of slack, the tether would not be long enough for them to reach each other, the door to the basement, or the keys that hung from the ceiling. They would have to wait, each at her own station, until a large bucket of ice melted next to the door, and dropped a set keys to their tethers at Rhonda's feet via a pulley in the ceiling. They had timed this ice bucket before, and knew that it took about 22 hours to completely melt within an ambient temperature of 85 degrees. Two keys would drop once that ice melted. One would unlock the padlocks that shortened their tethers, extending them another 3 feet each and allowing them enough slack to meet at the center of the room. The second key would unlock each of their chastity belts, allowing them to mount a sybian device they had placed at their meeting point. The sybian had two phalluses attached to it and was designed for two women to use it at the same time. They had been saving their first use of it for a special occasion and this was it.

A second, larger bucket of ice would drop the remaining keys to freedom, again via a pulley, sometime Sunday evening. Once the buckets were in place, Claire met Rhonda on the bed and the two of them began some passionate foreplay, still cuffed. Rhonda loved the silky feel of Claire's smooth skin after a shower. She was younger than Rhonda, about 23, and her breasts and ass were still very firm, brimming with baby fat. Claire loved how Rhonda could expertly work her into a sexual frenzy with her tongue and then stop right before she was ready to explode. Rhonda enjoyed being fingered by her partner just before bondage the most. Once they were both panting with lust, the regular cuffs came off and were tossed into a distant and unreachable corner of the room and they began binding each other for the main event.

Claire and Rhonda started with the stainless steel bands. These were locked onto each wrist, ankle, and neck. They also had bands for above the elbows and knees; the bands above the knees would lock onto their belts via a set of chains and then to each other, preventing them from spreading their legs while bound. Claire looked soulfully into Rhonda's eyes as the blonde locked her ankle cuffs on with tiny padlocks. Rhonda thought Claire's sky-blue eyes were breathtaking. The collars were then locked at the front o-ring to the length of chain that would separate them on opposite sides of the room. A padlock held a single three foot loop of this chain in place and was meant to be unlocked after the first timed release, extending the tether but keeping them imprisoned in the basement. Once they were both appropriately restrained, they would each individually lock the other ends of the chain to the bolts at their respective ends of the room. They had to do it this way because once their elbows were locked together behind their backs and their wrists were locked to the front of their belts, they would not be able to reach up and lock their collars to their leashes. They were practiced at avoiding such complications, having been at it for two years together.

With their arms shackled but still free, they proceeded to apply the chastity belts. Each was nervous about this because they had decided it was time to add anal play to their bondage sessions, and they would be plugged in their behinds until the belts came off. Rhonda blushed in embarrassment as Claire fingered her asshole with lubrication, stretching and relaxing her sphincter. The enema had been complicated, and messy, but they had gotten through it with little pain. She hoped the need to defecate would be suspended for the next 24 hours, because the plug was large and nothing was coming out of her body that way until her belt came off.

"Ahh!" She grunted as Claire tried to push it into her body. "I don't know, Claire-Bear (a pet name). Ugghhh. Maybe we overestimated a bit on the size of these plugs."

"Shhh. It's alright, Rhon'." Claire's chain tether jingled as she knelt over her lover, who was on all fours with her rump sticking up in the air, so she could whisper soothingly in her ear. Rhonda felt her ease the plug back out and replace it with her fingers again. They slid slowly in and out of her. "Doesn't that feel nice? Mm? That's a good girl, you can take it."

"Ohhhh..." Rhonda responded by bucking a little and rubbing her nipples into the carpet. Anal stimulation felt uncomfortable to her. It didn't quite feel sexual, but she and Claire were determined to share everything with each other, their whole bodies, and this was the next step. Claire rubbed her partner's pussy with her other hand and then pressed the plug against her backside again, this time more forcefully. "AAHH!" Claire twisted it home and Rhonda was overcome with discomfort and moderate pain. She trembled on the floor and hung her head. "Oh God, Claire! What are we doing?"

"Foreplay, honey. 24 hours of foreplay! I want to see you helpless!" She whispered in her ear. "Now plug me!" and she knelt down on all fours and stuck her own ass up playfully at the wincing blonde.

Once her own plug was inside her, Claire apologized to Rhonda for making light of her protests. They were both now having serious second thoughts at the severity of the game they were about to play. Claire had thought the plug would feel a bit like taking a good shit, which she found pleasurable at times, but thus far it only felt like searing pain; manageable but impossible to ignore. They steeled their resolve and kept going.

Their ankles were to be kept apart by a twelve inch spreader bar. This would visually contrast with the short chain connecting their thighs together below the chastity belts, and make walking difficult and awkward. The belts then went on and Rhonda said goodbye to her pussy for a while. Claire dutifully rubbed it slick with desire before pulling up the crotch strap and locking the shield in place. Claire had discovered, long ago, that she could make herself come with a dildo strapped inside her belt by concentrating and flexing her vaginal muscles, rhythmically. Rhonda and Claire were determined to be bound identically, so the blonde was left without a phallic companion locked inside her for the session, much to her private disappointment. After Rhonda caged Claire's musky sex in her own belt, the two of them kissed one last time, knowing it would be their last for a while, then they pouted at the size of the gags they were to wear.

Claire whimpered submissively as she forced her mouth open wide enough to fit the ball behind her teeth. Rhonda checked to make sure that the hole for the feeding tube was unobstructed and aligned appropriately before stuffing her own mouth. Once Claire's chin strap was adjusted tightly Rhonda beckoned her to turn around so she could padlock it into place. Claire was already feeling some pain in her jaw by the time she padlocked Rhonda's gag, and she whined in sadness at the pain she would endure all weekend. The elbow cuffs were next in line to get the padlocks, bound together behind the back, followed by the wrist cuffs, fastened to a d-ring at the front of their belts. With padlocks in hand, the submissives brought their gags together, muzzling affection for each other one final time before heading back to their solitary sides of the basement to padlock their leashes to the wall. Rhonda took one final look around to make sure everything was in place. The dispensary to her right was on and flashing green; that was a good sign. To her left was a pot into which she would urinate, should the need arise. Peeing through the shield of a chastity belt was messy and had a tendency to splatter. Minimal spray could be achieved by squatting directly on top of the bucket, and the girls were well practiced at it. It looked ridiculous and was not something they wanted anyone to ever see, but they had no secrets between themselves, and it was kind of a turn on to watch. The buckets of ice were in place, far out of reach, and she could see the keys up at the ceiling waiting patiently for the ice to melt. Claire had locked the front door and bolted all the windows. It was now or never. She took one final look at Rhonda, who was also finishing the same assessment in her head. When their eyes met, they obediently locked their leashes in place. They were finally imprisoned.

Rhonda could think of nothing but the discomfort in her ass for the first few minutes. Shuffling away from her partner had caused the plug to shift painfully inside her, reminding her of her own submission and stupidity. She felt objectified, like a toy to be played with, but that was a good thing. She could see that Claire was already writhing her hips with need at her end of the room. Her lips were moist with drool, which was likely to begin dripping and swinging from her mouth soon. Drool was inevitable, they both knew well, but it was also hot. Rhonda reflected about the first time she had filled her mouth with a large gag. She had struggled with it for a good half-hour, clamping her lips shut and sucking in the saliva. She didn't know why at the time. It was instinctual, she figured. But eventually, all her efforts to not drool on the floor were in vain, because when her mouth finally tired, and it didn't take long, it leaked drool like a geyser. Trying to not drool when appropriately gagged was an impossible task. Over the years Rhonda had learned not to fight it, and to just let it happen.

Claire swooned for a while then took an assessment of her bindings. Her arms were completely stationary in their position, and useless to her, but thus far she could not perceive any lack of circulation in them. She was pleased. All she had to do was wait patiently for release. She grunted and lay on her side, watching her lover like a voyeur. Rhonda was clearly still wincing in pain from her anal plug. "Poor Rhonda," Claire sighed. "Don't worry, love. I'll make all the pain go away tomorrow. Just be patient," she thought. Her attempts to be brave, however, did not alleviate her own pain; that in her ass and the increasing discomfort in her jaw. She smiled lovingly around her gag. Claire didn't think of herself as a pain slut, but she did realize that certain types of pain turned her on, like nipples clamps. As her jaw began to ache more and more, her hips began to rock and she could feel the first drops of pussy juice squeeze out around the shield of her belt. She looked back at Rhonda and daydreamed about being fucked by her. She longed to have her pussy filled, and the thought that she was helpless to get any relief only made her hornier.

Within a half hour both girls were completely incompetent with lust. Hours went by filled with nothing more than moaning desire with eyes shut tight, each girl lost in her own fantasy. Rhonda slowly felt the sharp pain in her ass decrease and she began clenching her sphincter around the plug to feel its invasiveness anew. Picturing the fat part of it lodged up inside her most private hole as she flexed her ass cheeks made her feel dirty and horny. As Claire's jaw became numb, her thoughts of helplessness increased. The more desperate she was to end the ordeal, the more her body responded. She marveled at how her pussy could tingle with such incredible arousal despite a complete lack of direct stimulation. Her clit was pulsing with need. With her hands bound at her front she could just barely massage her upper thighs with her middle fingers, but no more. She couldn't reach her clit with her elbows bound together, even without the belt obstructing her delicate touch. The best she could do is lay her palms flat across the upper belt strap and marvel at how segregated her touch was to her slippery pussy, despite the fact that it was only centimeters away from her fingertips. Caressing her belt in this way caused her to feel genuine affection for the device, as if it were a divine gift that could open up new worlds for her to play and frolic in.

Rhonda's exertions came to a fever pitch about three hours after the final padlock snapped shut. With her desire on overdrive for so long, she soon became thirsty and hungry. Grunting at Claire she pointed to the feeding tubes, which were closer to the center of the room. Claire nodded in agreement and they shuffled clumsily toward each other. Crawling on her knees was much harder than Rhonda had anticipated it would be. Most obvious to her was the restriction provided by the chains that connected her thigh cuffs together. She felt the sharp tugs on the bands of them as her thighs tried in vain to separate to accommodate her short journey to sustenance. More humiliating was the effect of the spreader bar between her ankles. Her feet swayed from side to side as she rocked forward, making her feel as if her bound feet were the tail of some clumsy Empire penguin. Claire, on the other hand, grunted with the effort of rocking onto the balls of her feet and attempting to stand. She failed at it twice and fell forward, first onto her bound knees, and then onto her breasts. She had to be especially careful as she feared that falling backward would cause her to land forcefully on her ass, and, more importantly, the plug pushed inside it. Even though she was really starting to enjoy the sensation of being plugged, she suspected that falling on it would cause her a significant amount of pain. The chain connected to her collar shook playfully as she waddled her spread out ankles forward, lurching forward and to the side occasionally as she tried to stay upright.

As she approached her partner, Rhonda noticed that the elbow tie made Claire's tits stick out like missiles. Rhonda knew them well, as Claire would let her play with them for hours at a time, and she could see by her hardened nipples that Claire was extremely turned on by the session. Her mind floated back to self-consciousness and she glanced down at her own breasts, only to see them offered up just as proudly as Claire's. "God! We look so fucking hot!" she thought as she winced in pain at the chafing of her knees. The carpet was plush but after three hours of writhing on it, Rhonda's knees were red and stinging from rug burns. Claire's knees were in similar shape. Rhonda felt her hips writhe against her will. Just as she was powerless to hasten their freedom from the chains, she was powerless against her body's reaction to them. Even their collective clumsiness was a turn-on for her, because it signified incapacity and vulnerability. Claire's waddle looked absolutely stupid to her, but at least a small part of the fantasy was to look and feel stupid, as though she were nothing more than a sexual toy, fully objectified.

Claire giggled with excitement once they got up close to one another, about 6 feet apart once their leashes went taught. Rhonda hoped she could tell she was smiling behind her gag, too. So far, the session had been a resounding success. Claire bent down to her side and found the feeding nozzle with her gag. Sucking hard on it gave her water. She greedily swallowed as best she could. At that range, the chain to her collar was now fully off the floor, stretching out between the wall and the willing prisoner. The strain this put on her neck made swallowing difficult, but not impossible. Mostly it just caused her to make more noise than she otherwise knew was needed for the task. The sounds of loud slurping and heavy breathing mixed with their grunts in such a way as to make Rhonda feel like an animal in a zoo feeding at her troth. There was a switch within her reach that would allow her to suck out the oatmeal instead. Rhonda thought that the slurping and sucking sounds they were making as they fed and watered themselves were disgustingly sexual. She was sure Claire noticed it too, by the smile in her eyes when they finished.

With hunger and thirst abated, Claire fitfully tried to advance on her lover and was pulled back, violently, by her collar causing her to fall, rather painfully, on her ass, driving her plug further into her, just as she had feared would happen. The shock of it brought her quickly to tears. Rhonda could only cry out for her partner as her own leash threatened to do the same to her. Claire soon recovered her senses, but that didn't stop the two of them from straining, pulling, and aching to come together again. Claire was close enough to see the sweat slide lovingly between Rhonda's breasts. How she ached to lick at it with her tongue. It was a pointless game, but still a game worthy of their time, since they had nothing better to do anyway.

By the fifth hour of their self-imposed confinement, Rhonda was getting a little tired. Clark had fucker her senseless the night before and the current bondage session was an exercise all by itself. It couldn't have been later than 4 or 5pm in her mind. They had no clock to watch, but they did have a tiny 6-inch window at the top of the Eastern wall that sat under the porch on the outside of the house. No one could see in unless they crawled under the porch, but the girls could see out well enough to tell if it was daytime or nighttime. Rhonda and Claire had discussed covering this hole up for good, but had decided that some minimal way to judge the passage of time was probably a good idea. It was still daylight out when Rhonda tried to settle down for a nap. Finding a comfortable position was nearly impossible. The way her bound arms were wrapped around her torso the only way to keep from pinching her arms or elbows was to lie face down on the carpet. Her bondage was tight, as she had wanted, but it was almost too tight to allow for any sleep at all. After fitfully tossing her hair and huffing into her gag for the better part of two hours, she finally nodded off. The April light was just beginning to fade when sleep took her.

Claire wasn't about to miss out the greatest bondage session of her young life by sleeping. She decided to pass the time by fantasizing about anal sex. Leaning up against the wall in a sitting position she would stare at her lover and concentrate on what each of the dildos in their collection would feel like up her ass. She was positive that it would hurt, a lot. But she sort of counted on getting off on the pain. "Should I ask for the thick, smooth one, or the thinner one that's shaped like a penis with the veins and everything?" As she pictured each phallus penetrating her ass in her mind, she bounced up and down upon her plug, which was easy to do in her seated position, and felt that sharp, searing pain again, and again, and again. "No! The big one with the studs! I forgot about that one!" And she bounced harder on her plug. "Arghh! Argghh! Argh!" She felt like she was about to come. She shook her head from side to side, rattling the chain of her leash, loudly. "I can't!" she thought to herself. "I promised Rhon'! No cumming until tomorrow!" She whimpered and shuffled back to the feeding tube, on her knees this time, desperate for something to keep her mind off her arousal. She could clearly smell herself now, as her natural lubricant had coated her inner thighs completely several hours ago. "I'm going to come so fucking hard when I get out!" she thought to herself between slurps of oatmeal and water.

Rhonda awoke around midnight, although she had no idea what time it really was. She hoped it was close to morning, and her disappointment grew hour after hour of staring up at the darkened hole in the Eastern wall. Claire was asleep when she awoke, so after quietly feeding herself, she got as close as she could to her and lay down upon her side to watch her beautiful, slumbering form. Her jaw ached substantially now and her plug was still impossible to ignore, but she pushed her concerns aside and carefully examined her partner in silent meditation. "If this isn't love, I don't know what is," she thought to herself. "Why else would a girl do this to herself? But is it my love for Claire or my love for bondage?" Her thoughts had an ebb and flow to them. Long moments of joy would eventually be eclipsed by a suffering longing emanating from her neglected vagina. She'd feel desperate to embrace her lover, followed by a sadness that she could not touch her, ending with a strong desire at the thought of helplessness. This cycle repeated itself, seemingly to no end. Without an orgasm, she could not rest. "Claire is so beautiful when bound," she thought. "I wish I could play with her tits right now! MMM!" she called from behind her gag as she clenched her legs together and squeezed her plug with her sphincter. "I want to fuck her so bad!"

Then Rhonda did something she didn't expect, or have any control over. She cried. Her desperation had led to panic. It would be impossible to explain it to Claire with her mouth stuffed as it was, but she felt guilty about cheating on her; and with a man, no less! But that wasn't the only thing that made her cry. Claire had beautiful natural breasts, the kind only youth and genetics can provide. Rhonda had told her that her own were natural too, and in truth, they had been, once. But when Rhonda hit thirty they began to sag quite a bit. Now she was thirty-three and with large, beautiful, un-sagging, fake tits. While she felt ashamed to have lied to Claire about her age and implants, what brought her to tears more than anything was her own jealousy at Claire's youth. She wanted to hold her more than ever, and to hold on to some of that youth for herself, even if just to be near it. Rhonda decided she would come clean to Claire about her lies and her tits, when they were free once more. She would also confess her love for her. If Claire loved her back, she would forgive her. She had to forgive her!

Salt from her tears slipped behind her ball gag and into her mouth. She felt shame from her hysterics and fear at her isolation. Her mascara had probably run. She probably looked frightful now, she thought. She felt frightful, and in pain. She felt like a complete mess, but she also felt extremely horny. Her tears began to flow freely again, now because of she was helpless to get off. She was quickly losing control. She had been right to be afraid. This was too much! They had pushed too far. Rhonda began thrashing against her leash to get at her lover. To be held by her. The world was a blur behind her tears and when she couldn't make out Claire's figure any more she began to shriek.

Claire awoke with a start and winced at the pain in her jaw and in her ass. Her left hand had fallen asleep, but not because of the cuffs. She had slept on it and it hung lifeless in front of her. As she tried to shake it out she looked around at the cause of all the noise. There was Rhonda, trussed up, gagged, and plugged like a Christmas turkey right in front of her, thrashing madly and streaming tears and drool around the room this way and that. Claire was taken aback at how hot Rhonda looked straining against her bonds like that with her perfect tits sticking out. Claire pictured herself taking her on the floor with the big strap-on. She thought about slipping her hands around the blonde's neck and choking her while she fucked her, bound exactly like she was. Her sex tingled and she shook out the cobwebs from her eyes.

Rhonda was clearly distressed, and now was no time for a fantasy. Claire absentmindedly thrust herself forward to reach out for Rhonda and was violently yanked back to the floor, pinning the plug against her bottom for the second time. The pain was sharp and it took her breath away. "MMRRPHH!!!" she screamed from behind her gag. Claire was in awe of the situation. She knew she had been asleep, so how was it possible that she could be so aroused so quickly after unconsciousness? Her plug had just given her more pain than she thought she had ever experienced before, and now, incredibly, her pussy was ready to explode. If she could only touch it, she knew she'd come harder than she ever had before. She clamped down on her gag and shrieked herself, afraid to come and, at the same time, afraid of not coming. As she looked down at her imprisoned pussy a dazed corner of her mind told her to get up and comfort her lover, but for the moment she continued to cry out in lust.

Rhonda was so hysterical she was becoming short of breath. Where was Claire? With her eyes flooded with water she couldn't see what had happened to her. She tugged again, and again on her leash, harder and harder, desperate to break the bonds that kept them apart. A few seconds of rational thought would have reminded her that her basement dungeon was too solidly built for a 95 pound submissive to escape from using only brute force, but she was beyond rational thought. Her tears also brought her an increase of secretions in her nasal cavity. As she struggled for air a large ball of snot flew from her nose and stuck to her cheek, just under the strap of her gag. At this point Rhonda was in serious danger of asphyxiation, which was something she had asked Claire to do to her during sex from time to time, but that was under controlled conditions. Rhonda was now out of control and she knew Claire could not help her. As she struggled for air she felt a familiar burning sensation in her pussy, the kind she felt just before Claire would make her come during asphyxiated sex. Her fear was about to put her over the edge, and in the end, it was the thought of coming that saved her. She knew she was not allowed to come. If two submissives could serve each other, if it was possible, it was in that moment. They stood on the precipice of lust, desperate to jump off and into ecstasy, but tethered in place by a commitment to one another. Rhonda froze, involuntarily, desperate to obey her promise to Claire that she would not come. She could feel her vaginal muscles tense in pre-orgasmic bliss. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she desperately tried to fight it off by keeping completely still and silent. After a good twenty seconds she slowly took in a deep breath and finally felt her orgasm shrink away, back to where it came from, leaving her unfulfilled.

Rhonda's panting resumed its horny, pre-hysterical rhythm and she tried to blink away the tears from her eyes. Claire was humping the floor in front her, rubbing her exposed nipples into the carpet, but looking at her full in the face with deep concern. The brunette rose to a kneeling position, obviously flushed with desire and made a series of motions with her hands, like sign language. Rhonda had assumed that meaningful communication between them would not occur during the entire session, but she had been wrong when she saw Claire's hand movements. With her hands pinned to her belly button, the young girl pointed to herself with her left thumb, then made a heart shape with the fingers and thumbs of both hands, then pointed to Rhonda with her right index finger. She repeated this motion of her hands, over and over again, as she slowly began to weep as well. She motioned to herself. "I" She made a heart shape with her hands. "Love" She pointed at Rhonda. "You". The situation was sick and twisted and beautiful. "I. Love. You." Over and over. Calmer now, Rhonda resumed her own tears.

The sun was finally up and the girls were slurping breakfast. Rhonda was getting really tired of eating oatmeal, but compared to her other worries it was only a minor annoyance. Despite her smeared makeup, excitement coursed throughout her body. Six or seven more hours and they could finally get off on the sybian, face to gagged face. Rhonda hoped there'd be enough slack in their bonds to let them hold hands while coming. She fantasized about it while quenching her thirst. They'd managed to spill quite a bit of water and oatmeal onto the carpet during their confinement. It would need a good scrubbing when it was all over, she mused. But later, she thought to herself, after they've fucked each other silly. Claire was also showing signs of giddiness by giggling while thrusting her pelvis out at Claire after feeding. "She's such a schoolgirl!" thought Rhonda as she playfully rolled her eyes back at her busty partner.

For the first time they felt they had some semblance of control of the situation. They were still helpless and lusty, and in increasing levels of pain, but they were no longer scared. Rhonda thought briefly about how long she could go bound and plugged this way with no relief. A week? A month? A year? Surely her mouth would not take to being gagged so long, and they would both have to shit soon anyway. But if they could overcome such obstacles, would Claire ever consider a longer bondage session? Would she be willing to spend a month in this prison with Rhonda? A lifetime? It was ridiculous, nothing more than a fantasy, but a tempting one.

Painful and scary as it had been, their latest adventure together had been the most exciting and erotic one yet. Rhonda was eager to finally speak with her lover about her experience and hear about Claire's in return. She wanted Claire to rate her experience with the plugs and whether or not they should wear them again next session. Rhonda, herself, was all for it. Even though they were painful and humiliating to wear, they were a huge psychological turn-on when the sensation was juxtaposed with her hungry, wet pussy. The thought of having her ass forcibly stretched all weekend and being unable to do anything about it made the reality of the fantasy very intense. She really wanted to know if Claire felt the same way. More than anything, however, Rhonda wanted to get Claire's rating on orgasm denial. It was enormously frustrating! On the other hand, Rhonda had never felt so sexually alive for such an extended period of time before. She felt she seemed to be writhing her hips every second of every hour. Her fantasies were wild and creative as she imagined what she would like to do to Claire when they were finally free again, and what she would like Claire to do to her. She had been thinking about this ever since she padlocked her collar to her side of the basement; ever since had been forced to watch Claire swoon.

As the hours ticked away Rhonda and Claire found themselves staring expectantly at the keys hanging from the ceiling. "Soon!" Claire thought to herself. "Soon, we will be together again!" But it was a pointless exercise. The keys would drop, they knew, no sooner or later than when they were meant to drop. Staring at them would not make it go any faster, so they gave up on it and tried to interact with each other instead. They tried, in vain, to play a game of charades, but there are not many phrases one can act out while bound in their position. Then they tried to sing some of their favorite songs, humming them from behind their gags of course. The hours flew by without them seeming to notice. Rhonda got hungry again and slurped some more oatmeal. She was examining how much water and food they had left when Claire made a strange noise.

"Nigh-all!" Rhonda looked at her inquisitively.

"Whah?"

Claire had a worried look on her face and cried out again from behind her painful gag, "NIGH-ALL!" and she pointed to the window. Rhonda glanced up at it and was stunned to see a window that was all too dark.

"Nightfall?" she thought, horrified. It didn't make any sense. "Those keys were supposed to drop no more than 22 hours after being set. What did I do wrong? Is it too cold in here? Is the line caught?" She looked up at the keys and followed the string that held them in place with her eyes over the pulley and down to the bucket. From her angle so close to the floor there was no way either she or Claire could see inside the bucket. Regardless, nothing, absolutely nothing, looked out of the ordinary. With limbs straining and her mouth throbbing in pain, Rhonda made her way to the bucket, stopped about a dozen feet short by her leash. Claire followed in the same direction. She whined.

"MMMmmmmm!" Claire looked at her in fear and communicated the only thing she could with her hands. "I. Love. You."

Claire had no idea what time it was but it had to have been several hours since nightfall. She tried to avoid looking at Rhonda, since it only got her horny to look at her tied up like that, but trying not to look at the helpless blonde and actually doing it were two different things. As soon as Claire would lose her focus she would start staring at Rhonda's breasts again. They had a beautiful, large shape to them. Rhonda told her they were real, but Claire knew better. It didn't really matter that they were fake. They were incredible to look at and a lot of fun to play with.

"Mph!" Claire grunted, pulling her gaze away from Rhonda's chest. Something had gone horribly wrong with their set up. She kept retracing their steps in her mind, but nothing came of it. They would have choked themselves from hysterics by now except that they both knew that somewhere around midnight the second set of keys would drop. That set would release their cuffs and their leashes completely. Then they would find out what the problem was with the first staged release. It was alarming, to say the least, and she felt foolish for having committed herself and Rhonda to such a dangerous game without any additional safety mechanisms. It was such a rookie mistake. Knowing that freedom would, or at least should, eventually come, she tried to put her mind at ease, but watching her lover in such a sexy bind was not a helpful distraction. Claire knew that wanting to fuck right now was a pretty irresponsible emotion to harbor, given the circumstances, but now, more than ever, her bonds felt inescapable, and that was an incredible turn-on. Despite herself, she stared at her partner again, in heat.

Rhonda couldn't help it. Her arousal was leaking out of her belt again. She was definitely worried about getting out of the bonds, but she also couldn't help thinking that their 36 hour session was an amazing accomplishment for them, especially due to the orgasm denial they had imposed on themselves. Despite her fears she knew that she and Claire would look back on this adventure they shared together with fondness for years to come. Release would come. She was sure of it. It had to or they were truly fucked. They had already gone through about half of their meals and water. If they rationed the rest of it, how long could they last? Long enough for next Friday when Clark was sure to come calling? Rhonda winced around her gag at the thought. They might be alive by next Friday, but their bodies would likely have undergone considerable damage by then. She felt grateful that she didn't need to shit yet. "Small comfort," Rhonda thought to herself as she clenched at the unrelenting plug inside her.

Claire was staring at her again. "Why does she keep looking at me? Is she angry with me? It was my release system that failed, after all. God! She looks so sexy!" Rhonda wondered if Claire could feel it too: the desire that comes from fear, from the unknown. It was true that she had fantasized about extending their session somehow, but she would never have wished for this. Her clit was pounding in her loins. She tried to push it out of her mind. She tried to track the time instead. "If the sun goes down at 7:30 and it's been two hours since dusk, the second set of keys will drop in no more than two hours, probably sooner." The bucket had been timed to release within 36 hours, and the session had started a little after 11am on Saturday.

It was pointless to dwell on, and Rhonda was sure she'd find the answers soon, so she gave in to her passions and began swooning in place, desperate for the orgasms she felt were long overdue. Claire could not stand watching her partner writhe in place without giving in to temptation herself. Her fantasies began again, vivid, violent, and violating.

"Clink," went a set of keys onto the carpet. Rhonda opened her eyes and moved desperately toward the sound. They needed to get free immediately so they could fuck! Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach when she saw them. They had fallen right next to the sybian, right where they were supposed to fall . . . in the center of the room. She was positive she could not reach them. Claire was already stretching out her long legs, straining against her leash, trying to move her big toe toward the key ring. She was at least six inches short, even though the keys seemed to have bounced slightly toward Claire anyway. Rhonda figured it was pointless but she tried to extend her shackled legs toward them too. Maybe she could somehow push them toward her mate. She couldn't. Stretching back as far as she could she was still at least a foot away from them. Claire frantically grabbed the only object she had, her piss-pot, and dumped it out. She brought it back toward the keys and tried to position the lid over them. She actually managed to throw it, top down, over the keys, but then soon found that by doing so, she could no longer reach it with her toes.

"We're in trouble!" Rhonda thought to herself. "We're in big fucking trouble!" Claire was still struggling to get at the keys but Rhonda could see she was losing faith that it could be done. What a mess they were in! Rhonda was angry with herself, and the pain in her jaw and her ass only made it worse. She began to panic again and her breath became ragged. The smell in the room was becoming intoxicating as well. She could almost taste the oatmeal, urine, sweat, and feminine arousal in the air. The most frustrating thing was she wanted to come and she couldn't. Yes, she was concerned. Yes, she feared for her life. But at the same time, being stuck like they were was making her horny again. She saw Claire begin to cry too and the thought that they might die like this made her pussy moist. Rhonda, between gasps, fell to her back and raised her hips up to the ceiling. Livid with rage and arousal, she screamed as loud as she could. It frightened Claire, who began to sob more loudly. Rhonda looked at the window. It was completely black outside, probably around midnight. They would both miss work tomorrow, Rhonda at her securities firm, and Claire at the expensive beauty shop she worked at. They'd get angry calls from their employers, but no one would come for them for at least a few days, at best. Then she looked at the food unit again. Still about half left of both the food and water. There was no telling when help might come, if at all. They would have to begin rationing, immediately. But before Rhonda brought this up with Claire, they both lay down for a nice, long cry first.

Rhonda's tears begat exhaustion, which begat sleep. She awoke to find daylight had returned to the window, and she also saw Claire sucking water greedily from her feeding tube. She tried to get up quickly to stop her, but instead she moaned in discomfort and slumped back to the floor. Rhonda had to shit, badly. She tried to push the discomfort out of her mind and resumed her efforts to communicate with Claire.

"Soff!" she called from behind her gag, trying to say 'Stop!'. Claire looked up at her, inquisitively with dried out tear stains down her cheeks. Rhonda had a brainstorm and knelt as close to her partner as she could, so that her right hand was touching the carpet. She drew out letters with her index finger, slowly spelling out the following words: WE-MUST-RATION! Claire seemed to understand and followed her lead. Although the following conversation would have normally taken a few seconds to speak, it took the bound and gagged women a half hour to complete it, rife with misunderstandings as it was:

"I'm thirsty."

"I know, but we must conserve our water."

"Can I eat?"

"Yes, but the sooner it's gone the sooner we go hungry. It takes weeks to starve. It takes days to die of thirst."

"OK. I will stop drinking"

"Take a small sip every few hours. Don't spill any."

"Are you having some?"

"I'll drink a little, but soon I should start drinking my pee."

"?!"

"It could keep us alive for an extra couple days. I have to."

"I have to shit."

"Me too. There's nothing we can do about it."

"Will we die here?"

"Someone will come, soon."

"Who?

"Someone." Not believing her, Claire began to cry again.

"Stop crying. You'll dehydrate. Try not to drool either."

"How?!" Claire motioned, angrily.

"Lie on your back."

Rhonda and Claire retreated back to their sides of the room again and tried to lie still. It was uncomfortable, causing Rhonda to constantly arch her back to avoid pinching her elbows with her own weight, but at least she wasn't losing her drool. Hit tits were sticking up erotically like balloons, though. She felt completely parched. The thought of drinking her own urine made her stomach turn, but she knew she'd have to do it. No one was coming anytime soon. It was possible that Clark would return before Friday, but unlikely. She wished she had been nicer to him Saturday morning.

Rhonda began to dread the thought of him seeing the two of them trussed up like this. Clark got off on living out rape fantasies. She didn't really know how perverted he was, now that she thought seriously about it. She had spent Friday night in a straightjacket and with her ankles cuffed. The fantasy was that she was a helpless schoolgirl trapped in a mental hospital and he was her abusive jailor. There was a lot of playful face slapping and hair pulling that night. He fucked her over the bathroom sink, on the living room floor, on the kitchen table, and, of course, on the bed. Basically, wherever he caught her after giving her a ten second head start was where he did it to her. After each fucking he added adornments to her body, like a gag and nipple clamps, while he waited for his erection to return. He didn't try to make her come, either. He just used her pussy as fast and as hard as he could each time until he exploded inside her. She had asked him to do this. Rhonda eventually did come the fourth or fifth time around. Not much of a game, really, but it made for good fantasy sex. The thought of his hard dick made her restless, causing her chains to clink and jingle as she tossed and turned.

Rhonda fretted at the thought of Clark's potential arrival. If he found them like this, would he take advantage of them? Didn't she want him to? Would Claire want him to? Claire had said that she was bi when they first met. Rhonda had unwittingly set herself and her partner up perfectly for Clark. No one would ever know, and a few snapshots of their predicament would probably insure their silence about the whole thing if he actually did rape them. Then an alarming thought struck her. What if he found them and them kept them locked up for good? He could give them regular enemas and replace their food and water. He could probably pull it off, too. She knew how smart he was. She tried not to think about it. "He wouldn't dare!" Besides, it would indeed be a very difficult thing to pull off. They'd eventually go on the missing persons' list. The police would investigate her house. It was not possible, but it still made her pussy tingle. Leaking arousal was bad, she knew. It would only dehydrate her faster. She sighed and thought about her own urine again.

It had to have been around midday when Rhonda decided the time to drink her own piss had come. Her throat felt like sandpaper. The pain from her mouth and the discomfort of her full bowels were getting harder and harder to ignore as well. Perhaps a drink of luke-warm human waste would ease her suffering. Perhaps not, but regardless, the time had come. Claire turned her head to watch as the blonde made her slow crawl away from the feeding tube and toward the pot. The smell was putrid as she leaned her head forward to examine what she was about to consume. Urine, she knew, was not an ideal replacement for H2O. There was a reason for its color. The body simply did not want those chemicals and elements inside it. It was waste, but still, it was mostly water, and by recycling it they had a chance to make it to freedom in a few more days. Claire whimpered affection in her direction as Rhonda tightened her lips around her gag and dipped into the liquid. Even though she only took a small sip, the taste was so horrid she feared she would retch into her gag and choke on her own vomit. Rhonda fell backward to get away from the smell and forced herself to swallow it, wincing in disgust and shutting her eyes tight. Her wrists strained against her cuffs as she coughed and sputtered at the taste. Eventually, she settled down and slowly crawled back over to Claire. She couldn't look at her, however, and turned her head away in shame.

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

The sharp sounds of untethered palms slapping together shocked both the girls to alertness and their heads snapped to the source of the noise which was coming from the carpeted stairs. Clark was lounging on the bottom step, having silently snuck in, with exasperation showing on his smug face.

"Wow, my pet! That's a scene I won't soon forget!" He shook his head and crossed his arms. Claire was stunned, but silently shedding tears of joy at their rescue. She clearly did not understanding what this strange man's presence meant for the two of them the way Rhonda did and she twisted in place at the prospect of freedom. Rhonda was too humiliated to cry and she couldn't look at him, or his broad shoulders and muscular chest.

"I saw you from the window there. The door was unlocked." An awkward silence followed as Rhonda and Claire looked at each other, accusingly. "Ok, I'm sold." Clark stated with enthusiasm. "What game are we playing today?" Rhonda could only hide her head in shame. Clark bounced up from his seated position and approached her. He knelt down and yanked her head around toward him by her leash. Rhonda's highlights whipped to the side and she finally met his gaze. Claire was no longer looking relieved. In fact she was slowly backing away from the two of them. Holding her head in place with his right hand, Clark used his left to run his fingers through Rhonda's hair and to trace a soft line from her forehead down over her gag and under her chin, lifting it toward him.

"Where's your head, Rhonda? You know me. What am I supposed to think finding the two of you here like this?" Rhonda could only motion to the upturned pot at the center of the room and point to it with her fingers. Clark released her and uncovered the fallen keys while she struggled to get into a kneeling position before him with her head bowed down. "Be submissive now," she told herself.

"Which key unlocks the gag?" Clark demanded as he thrust them into her right hand. Rhonda's heart fluttered. Perhaps he was going to be their savior after all? Clark loosened the straps and slowly removed the large ball that had kept her tongue a prisoner in her own mouth for two days. She shuttered and cried out in pain as she finally closed her jaw. Her mouth would probably not feel right for weeks.

"Oh, God! Thank you, Clark! I thought we might die this way. Our keys failed to drop and our safety fell on the wrong part of the floor. Help me w-"

"Shut up!" Clark snapped at her and he pulled her hair back, violently. He had an intense scowl on his face, like he was being given bad news or something. Rhonda couldn't quite read his emotions, but her fears returned about what he would do to them. "You're a real bitch, you know that? You play all these twisted games with me every Friday night and then you kick me out first thing in the morning like I'm a piece of rotting meat or something. Now I find you like this and you expect me to help you, like you think I'm a nice guy or something."

"Clark, please, we n-"

"I said shut the fuck up!" He slapped her, harder than usual, across the face and Rhonda fell, powerless onto her side, dazed. He reached down to grab her hair and raise her back into her kneeling position. It was extremely painful on her scalp. "First of all, let's be clear about a few things. From now on you will not interrupt me, will you?" Rhonda shook her head, trembling in fear. Clark nodded at her response and began eyeing Claire, huddled against her own wall trying in vain to hide her nipples, yet powerless to avert her eyes. "Secondly, you will address me Master or Sir from now on, won't you?" Rhonda nodded compliantly again, but did not speak. This only aggravated Clark further. "Won't you?!" he demanded as he tightened his grip on her hair.

"Y-Yes, Master!" she replied while wincing in pain.

"Good. Now I have some questions for you." Strangely, he now knelt before her so that their heads were at eye level and cupped her face in his hands, lovingly. "When did you start this session?"

"Saturday. 11AM, Master." Rhonda felt like an emotional train-wreck in his arms.

"You remember your safety word from our last encounter?"

"Yes, Master."

"What was it?"

"'Peaches', Master." Rhonda began to sob again.

"If either of you have an immediate need, now would be the time to use your safe word."

"P-Peaches! M-Master! PEACHES!" She could hardly say the words she was crying so hard. She was overjoyed at being rescued, but she was devastated at the identity of her rescuer. All of her lies would come out now. There was nothing more she could hide. If he used Claire the way he was used to using her, she would lose her young playmate forever. She was sure of it.

"That's a good girl." He brought her sobbing head to his chest and held her for a moment. "It's ok. Daddy's here. Have a good cry, now."

"Ew," thought Claire.

Rhonda could not hold back and the tears erupted in force. Clark 'shushed' her until she was calm again. "Ok, my pet. What are your needs? You will speak for her as well," and he pointed at Claire.

"We have to defecate and we are dehydrated. We've also skipped several meals and we need to stretch our limbs out soon or they will begin to atrophy."

"That's it?"

"Isn't that enough?" Rhonda looked at him in alarm. "Let us go, please. We're in pain!" Clark furled his brow and pursed his lips.

"Hmmm. You forgot to address me as 'Master'," he responded, flatly. Before Rhonda could protest further he reached out and twisted her left nipple, harshly. Rhonda's shriek was cut short by her ball gag filling her mouth again. After he buckled it more tightly than it had been before, he took a moment to run his hands over her breasts and tummy.

"I knew it!" Rhonda lamented to herself, wide-eyed with panic and arousal. "He's going to rape us!" But he didn't, yet. Clark pulled the first set of keys down from the ceiling and released their leashes from the walls of the basement dungeon. With impatient tugging and much squealing from his charges, he led them up the stairs and into the master bath.

"I think we'll let your friend relieve herself first, hm?" he remarked to Rhonda as he padlocked her collar chain to the o-ring high up in her shower stall, keeping her straining on tip toes against the pull of her collar. He picked Claire up with ease and seated her on the toilet. After unlocking her belt her leaned her forward and gently removed her intimate companion. "Plugs!" he exclaimed. "Big plugs!" he announced as it finally came free. Claire sighed heavily as she immediately released her bowels. As she did so Clark refilled the enema bag that was still set up from the girls' last pre-session cleansing. Claire looked up at him, innocent and doe-eyed when she finished.

"Alright. You know where this goes," he said as he pulled her neck chain to the floor and held it there with his heel. So far Claire found him to be firm, but not abusive; at least, not yet. Rhonda was frightened for her partner. Was she scared? She didn't show it. Perhaps he would be gentle with her.

As the water filled her intestines, Clark knelt down and massaged Claire's breasts. "Mm-hm. These are real." He cast a knowing look Rhonda's way. "Real and young. I think I'm going to like you, Number 2. That's what I'll call you for now. Number 2. You don't need a name, do you?" Claire shook her gagged face from side to side, moaning as her tummy filled with water. "I can't thank my bottom bitch enough for bringing you to me, Number 2. You and I are going to have lots of fun together, aren't we?"

"Mmmm!" Claire squealed as he molested her. Rhonda knew that squeal well. Claire was clearly aroused at this new twist in their adventure. She finally began to relax a little. "I can take his punishments," she thought to herself. "But if he hurts her I'll never forgive him."

When Claire's enema finished the girls switched places, excepting that Claire was tethered to the shower stall without her chastity belt. It was still impossible for her to touch herself, and she grunted in sexual frustration as she watched Rhonda receive her own enema. Clark paused after stripping naked to admire his two busty, bound prizes whimpering in the shower, giving him sympathetic, pleading looks from behind their oversized ball gags. "Pretty as a picture." He mumbled to himself, as he stepped in to join them. Clark scrubbed them thoroughly and mercilessly, rubbing their entire bodies with his bare hands. He was sure to clean them both inside and out, spending an ample amount of time with his fingers buried inside, first, Rhonda's pussy, and then Claire's. The squeaks of delight from behind Claire's gag were an obvious indication that the brunette was enjoying herself, and Rhonda harbored several jealous thoughts about the pleasure she wanted to give her partner, but was forced to watch her receive. His erection kept bumping into the two of them in such an obtrusive manner. "Just stick it in me, already!" Rhonda thought to herself as it pressed hard into the small of her back for at least the 7th or 8th time. The shower and his hands were so magical after all that suffering. Rhonda was sure she'd cream herself in seconds if her would just start fucking her. Her observations of Claire told her she felt the same.

But he didn't fuck them in the shower. Instead he toweled them off, tied up their long tresses with hairpins and led them, crawling, to the kitchen where he proceeded to mix up some bacon, eggs, and buttered toast. He put some cool water in a large bowl and laid it at their feet for them to drink in turns while he cooked. Claire let Rhonda drink first, as she still had the faint taste of her own urine in her mouth. Rhonda was a little incensed at being forced to eat from the floor, like a dog, but after she thought about it, it seemed natural enough. She had done it for him before, actually. The fact that Claire was there with her made it seem different somehow; more insulting and humiliating. She pondered why Claire's presence should make such a difference. Wasn't this a fantasy they shared? The bottom line was she still didn't trust Clark to let them go, even though her jaw was killing her and her arms were throbbing from a lack of movement. Why wouldn't he just let them go? They could play this game next weekend, dammit!

Clark removed their gags and made them promise to be good girls and to not talk while eating. Then he went back into the bathroom to clean their plugs, gags, and belts. Rhonda was fairly certain he wouldn't hear them if she whispered.

"Claire! I'm so sorry! I should have told you about Clark." Claire paused while chewing her bacon, but did not respond. She didn't even acknowledge that Rhonda had said anything. "Please, Claire-Bear! I love you! I'll never hide anything from you again!"

This did get a response from Claire. "Hm. Are your tits real?" she asked, calmly. Rhonda was speechless, unable to admit to a previous lie and unable to form a new one. "I didn't think so," Claire stated, and she bent forward to resume eating.

"Please, honey, Clark will probably end this charade if you ask him to. Let's stop now and have a long talk about it. Ok? The three of us! Ok?" Rhonda was feeling desperate. She was losing her lover. Clark was quickly taking her place.

"I'm not talking to you right now. Master's orders," Claire responded. Shocked, Rhonda had no choice but to dip her head and eat her belated breakfast in silence. After a few seconds, she forgot about her present love triangle. The food was delicious, and she was absolutely famished. She finished everything, quickly. They were both licking their plates clean when Clark returned from the bathroom.

"Good, I see you're finished with breakfast. We have some calls to make, don't we?" Rhonda was starting to tire of all the rhetorical questions.

"Yes, Master." They sing-songed in response. Claire and Rhonda had to give their respective employers a call to explain their absences from work. Rhonda was forced to use some vacation time she had been trying to save, a whole week's worth, actually. Claire was told not to come back to the shop that she worked at. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to care too much about being unemployed. After Clark hung up the phone for Claire he shuffled them back in line at the top of the basement stairs.

"Now open wide, because these are going right back in." He held up their ball gags. Rhonda tried not to protest as her mouth was forcibly stuffed once more. Her jaw ached, but the brief absence of her gag had been healing. The pain was not nearly as intense as before. In fact the gag almost felt comforting to her, like a familiar friend. Clark led them back to the basement carrying their belts in one hand and their leashes in the other. The stairs were a difficult task, bound as they were, so he let them go first, pulling taught on their collars to give them balance. They could stand, and even walk in their position: upper thighs bound by a short chain, ankles separated by a 1 foot bar; but it was a very slow, unbalanced walk. He padlocked Rhonda to her side of the wall again. She whined and shook her head to and fro. "Shut up!" Clark snarled at her. After padlocking Claire in place her returned to Rhonda's side and pushed her to the floor, face down.

"Stick your ass in the air." Rhonda lay still, frozen with defiance and fear. "I can make you do it. Do you want that?" Rhonda slowly wiggled her knees up to her torso, lifting her exposed rump to her captor. He pulled her hair back and made her face Claire. "Look at her. She will tell me if you break eye-contact with her. I want you to look her in the eye while I do this." Rhonda focused her attention on the beautiful, young Claire. She perceived with her ears the sound of thick, squirting jelly just before Clark pressed a lubed finger into her rectum.

"MMMPPPHH!" She screamed. Not from pain, but from the violation.

"Tsk. Give me a break, you slut," he said as he slid a second finger inside her already stretched out anus. "You know you like this." Claire's eyes were ablaze with desire as she watched Rhonda get her asshole reamed by a dominant male. She knew exactly how Rhonda felt: a little pain, a lot of shame, and somewhere in between those two sensations was that dirty arousal, slowly growing inside her. Rhonda's grunts turned to squeals of arousal with each of Clark's quickening two-fingered thrusts. Just when she was beginning to feel an orgasm brewing insider her he stopped. "Feels like you're just about ready for it. Take a deep breath now." Clark pressed the large plug into her backside with commanding force. Rhonda grunted like a pig from behind her gag, not daring to look away from her heart's desire, as she felt her most private hole expand around the base of the plug once more. "There. That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Rhonda didn't answer. She was focused on her breathing. "I think you need a quick reminder of who's in charge here."

Clark was still naked, and Rhonda's other hole, her pussy, was dripping wet from being forcibly plugged by him. Bent over as she was, she was in an extremely vulnerable position. She hated the fact that he had made her hot, but she could not hide it. She wanted to come. She didn't want the belt; she wanted his cock inside her instead. Coming was all that mattered. She felt surprise and joy as he thrust into her from behind. His strong hands held her back and neck in place as he gave her three powerful, deep thrusts. That was what Rhonda had been waiting for all weekend. She cried out in ecstasy as she prepared to explode all over his meat, but after those three thrusts, he pulled out and quickly padlocked her crotchstrap in place, imprisoning her sex once more. "RRAAGGHHH! LEASE! UCK EEE!" She screamed and bucked in place.

"NO!" Clark knelt down to pull her head by the hair and whisper in her ear. "Submissives don't keep secrets from their masters. Let this suffering be a lesson to you. You deserve this punishment." He flung her on her side stood over her. "By the way, muscles don't atrophy from a few days of nonuse. That takes weeks, actually. As long as you're circulated, your arms will be fine." Clark left Rhonda's sobbing, writhing form where it lay and approached the intoxicating Claire, who had been eagerly awaiting his attentions. He offered her his open palm and she shuffled forward and rubbed her gagged cheek into it. "Good girl." He said. She smiled behind her gag as Rhonda cried, still trying to hold onto the sensation of a hot, hard penis inside her pussy. Clark looked Claire in the eyes. "I'm only going to ask you this once, so think carefully before you answer. Would you like me to use you?" Claire nodded vehemently, with no hesitation. "I don't think you've given it much thought, Number 2. I want to use your body, and anything goes. Is that what you really want?" The brunette paused long enough to writhe her hips in place and looked back up at him, again, nodding with vigor. "Very well."

Rhonda looked on in sexual torment as Clark unlocked Claire's tether, picked her up, and carried her to the satin covered bed at the far end of the room. He locked her leash to the iron cast headboard and placed a pillow under her tummy, lifting her exposed ass to his member. Then he began to massage lubricant into her asshole. Claire was in raptures! Just a few hours ago she thought she might die without ever feeling the delicious pain of anal sex. Now she had been fed, watered, and cleansed by the dominant man of her dreams; and he was about to fuck her in the ass! She was excited and nervous with anticipation.

"Soon you will learn, as Rhonda has, that I take what I want from my slaves." He pulled her head back by the hair as he pressed his cock against her ass. "You hear me, slut? Your holes are mine and I don't care if you like it or not. I don't even care if you get off. You're going to pleasure me with your holes." Claire cried out sharply as the head of his cock forced its way into her. He moved slowly at first, working the lubricant along the length of his shaft, deeper and deeper with each push. Claire struggled to breathe between thrusts, biting down upon her gag in pain and drooling uncontrollably. Getting abused like that was so hot! Her clit was throbbing with need. With his dick fully greased, Clark began thrusting harder and harder, grunting with pleasure. "God! That's tight!" Clark exclaimed. Claire could only respond with high-pitched grunts of pain and desire with each thrust.

"MAH! MAH! MAH! MAH! MAH!"

"Hurts so good, doesn't it, bitch?"

Rhonda hated watching, but couldn't turn her eyes away. Her true love was being taken in the ass by the man she had tried to hide her from. It was psychological torture of the worst kind. She curled up on her side trying to ignore the feeling of her own plugged ass, and of what Claire was going through without her. Worst of all, Rhonda now felt jealous of Claire, and she wished their places were switched, and that she was the one getting fucked in the ass. Even if it didn't make her come, at least it was sex. Clark had conquered them. He had won and in a just a few, short hours under his control. He hadn't even needed to resort to rape or blackmail. They had surrendered to him on their own. Nothing would be the same. Everything had changed. She and Claire would obey his commands from now on until he was through with them.

After unloading his seed into Claire's behind, Clark slumped forward on top of her in exhaustion. Claire hadn't come, but that didn't change the fact that she had loved every second of her first anal fucking. It hurt her and it felt dirty, and that had turned her on. Her pussy was ripe and ready to explode, as it had been for most of the last 2 & ½ days, but not coming was only a minor disappointment for her, as she basked in the afterglow of her submission and pain. She hoped nothing was torn back there. She wanted him to do it to her again, soon. Clark turned her onto her side and played with her breasts while they spooned. Claire waited patiently for his erection to return, and it didn't take long. The vulnerability of her young body was an incredible aphrodisiac, for both of them. Clark was about to use her mouth but thought better of it when he couldn't find the right key for her gag and slowly slid into her sex instead. This time Claire did come, repeatedly. Her cunt had been sopping wet for two days without the slightest bit of stimulation. Feeling a warm cock inside her was like releasing the flood gates. She almost passed out from all the pleasure, but just when she felt she couldn't take it anymore, her new Master held her tight and ejaculated deep inside her womb.

After three or four minutes of sucking on Claire's sweaty nipples, Clark led her back to her side of the basement. After plugging her ass and locking her belt back on, he left them and went back up the stairs without saying another word. Claire slumped to the floor in post-orgasmic bliss and was soon snoring contentedly, feeling fully objectified. Rhonda's afternoon of tossing and turning in sexual frustration was just beginning.

It was 9pm on Monday when Clark returned to his new slaves. They had spent the bulk of Monday afternoon tossing and turning in agitated desire, wondering when their new master would return, and what he would do to them. Rhonda had intermittently attempted to communicate with Claire as she had before, by tracing out the letters with her fingers but the brunette was having none of it. They still stared at each other's vulnerable and exposed bodies swimming in the sexual tension of enslavement but Claire still felt like her trust had been betrayed. Their fantasy had become an inescapable reality. When Clark got back he led them upstairs and the previous ritual of toilet use, enemas, forced scrubbing and a meal was repeated, the same as before. When they finished eating, Clark chained Rhonda's spreader bar to the back of her collar, leaving her immobilized and gagged in the hogtie position on the kitchen floor while he led Claire back down to the basement again. The whole experience was disorienting for Rhonda because Clark wasn't saying much, purposely keeping both of them in the dark about what he was going to do to them and for how long. She twisted desperately in place at the thought that he was going to fuck Claire in the ass again, only this time in private. But in just a few minutes, he came back up and began removing some of her cuffs.

"You slaves are messy, and the basement is foul-smelling," he said as he used her familiar house-cuffs to bind her wrists and ankles again. With her elbows finally free and the bulk of her movement restored, Rhonda moaned behind her gag as she stretched out her joints. "I want you to scrub the piss off the carpet and clean up around the feeding machine. Come back up here when you are finished and I'll think about giving you a reward." He handed her a bucket of soapy water and a sponge. "I'll find out if you touch her," he warned her, sternly.

Rhonda was still gagged, collared, and belted, but at least she could walk normally in the ankle cuffs with the slack in the chain they provided. She grunted her acknowledgement of his instructions behind her gag and headed down the stairs, bucket and sponge in hand. Claire wasn't lying on the bed with her ass exposed, as Rhonda had assumed. She was back in her corner of the dungeon, belted and bound as usual. She had a disheartened look on her face when she saw Rhonda descending down the stairs instead of her new master. Claire was clearly getting off on his treatment of her and Rhonda's heart sank at the look of disappointment in her eyes. She sighed, reservedly, and began scrubbing at the urine spot Claire had left the day before.

An hour later and Rhonda had the room in tip-top shape again. As she made her way back to the stairs she paused at the ice buckets they had set up when the whole fiasco began. Something in the smaller bucket caught her eye, and she reached in to investigate and to fish out the object. Rhonda pulled a large, jagged rock from the bottom of the melted ice water. To her astonishment, the string she had rigged to the keys for the first stage of their original planned release was looped around it, having been cut after Clark had needed to get those keys back down from the ceiling. This was the answer to why the first timed release had failed. It had been sabotaged! It hadn't mattered when the ice melted, because the rock was heavier than the keys and would not allow them to drop when expected.

Rhonda couldn't believe it as she examined the knot that firmly held the string around the fist-sized rock. She had set the ice buckets in the freezer herself the night before the session started; the night Clark came over and chased her around the house. Clark? How could he have known? Rhonda looked back at Claire and saw she hadn't seen what Rhonda was holding in her hands, preoccupied as she was with humping the floor and moaning with desire through her gag. The blonde held the rock in her hand and jingled her chains back up the stairs. She winced at the discomfort in her ass the plug gave her with each step.

"All finished? Good, it's getting late and I have to work in the morning." Clark had been watching a movie on Rhonda's couch. She knelt in front of him, like a dutiful slave, and placed the rock on the coffee table next to his feet. She didn't look at him, but kept her eyes lowered. She didn't want a fight, but she wanted him to know that she knew what he had done.

"Figured it out, have you? Not that you deserve an explanation, but I've been dying to tell you anyway. I didn't know about you and that other slut. I knew you were up to something, but I didn't know what. Then on Friday I went out to the garage to look for some extra rope and do some snooping while you were tied down to the bed. That's when I found the ice-bucket in the freezer. It hadn't frozen yet so I took out the string and tied it to that rock. I didn't even see the other bucket in there. Just lucky, I guess, that it failed too." He chuckled. "While you were still tied up I did some more snooping and found your little dungeon. I got the spare keys to your front door, too. They weren't hard to find. Yes. I set you up. The two of you were mine from that moment on, even though you didn't know it. Now I've been keeping you prisoners in your own house for three days. I've fucked your girlfriend in the ass and made you watch. In another minute I'm going to order you to suck my cock. Then I'm going to chain you to the wall in the basement again. I'm going to do all of this to you, and you're going to let me, aren't you; because you want me to. Isn't that right?"

Rhonda nodded, obediently, and shuffled forward as he unzipped his pants. She rubbed the drool from her gagged mouth up and down his growing shaft before he unbuckled it. His pre-come tasted salty at the back of her throat while her head bobbed up and down his length.

Rhonda slept fairly well that night, all things considered. She was beginning to accept her fate as Clark's personal toy, but she still felt love for her girlfriend, Claire. Resigned to her plight, Rhonda had little trouble drifting off to sleep. She still hadn't had an orgasm throughout the whole ordeal, but, truth be told, she had lost hope that it would happen at all after Clark had shown up. Perhaps with acceptance of her place, she mused as sleep took hold, she could transcend her position and finally share her love with Claire. She didn't know how, but she still held out hope. She no longer had anything to hide.

Clark was late for work and in a hurry the next morning when he arrived for the girls' daily maintenance of sanitation and meal prep. As a result Rhonda and Claire's bodies went unmolested Tuesday morning apart from the occasional nipple pinch and slap on the ass. Faster than either girl had hoped they were tethered to the basement walls again without a thing to do but feast their eyes upon each other and fantasize about the orgasms they couldn't have. Clark did, however, add a few decorations to their bindings in order to make them more "lady-like", as he called it. Rhonda and Claire were both fitted with high-heels that strapped on to their ankles. They were black heels with a candy-apple red underside. He also changed their gags to ones without holes running through the middle, as they no longer needed the feeding machine for nourishment. They were matching ballgags, still quite large and uncomfortable, but with sleigh-bells hanging out the front. The girls would now pleasantly "jingle" as they shuffled and squirmed along the floor of their prison. Rhonda was, again, concerned about dehydration but before she could communicate her worries Clark told them that they would be just fine drinking water during their meals, so long as they drank enough of it. Rhonda found the gags humiliating, and gave him an angry scowl as he locked the straps around her head. Claire looked fantastic to her, now with her heels and the bell hanging from her face. It was a symbolic form of slavery, nothing more, but an incredible turn on for them both.

Clark returned to them at around 6pm, still wearing his suit and tie, but with a massive hard-on. He didn't bother feeding or cleaning them first but went straight for Claire, releasing her tether and carrying her to the bed again. Rhonda could only watch helplessly as he threw the dark-haired slave on her back and unlocked her chastity belt. He quickly covered her head with a clear plastic bag, loosely securing it in place with a rubber band around her neck. Then he climbed underneath her bound ankles, spreading her legs wide around his torso, and fucked her, hard. Claire struggled for air as her tits bounced up and down with each of Clark's powerful, masculine thrusts into her ripe, girlish figure. Claire twisted helplessly in place, trying not to pinch her elbows underneath her as Clark filled her insides with his sperm again. He allowed her to breath freely for about ten minutes as he recovered his desire, then he flipped her over on to her tummy, re-fit the air-restricting bag over her mouth and nose, and took her from behind. Claire's screams were frantic with ecstasy and fear, and after a few minutes in that position, she did finally pass out from a lack of oxygen, at which point Clark removed the bag, checked her breathing, and then kept on fucking her limp form until he came again, grunting loudly with the effort. Rhonda was inconsolable throughout.

After Claire woke up, Clark led his charges back upstairs for the maintenance they required, adding a "morning after" birth control pill to Claire's meal, then he led them right back down to the basement again. "Will this never end?" Rhonda asked herself as she watched him climb the stairs, leaving them alone for the night. Her own pussy clenched and dripped desire as she replayed the scene of Claire's ravishment over and over in her mind until sleep took her.

Clark woke Rhonda sharply at seven Wednesday morning and led her up the stairs to the bathroom alone. As she sat on the toilet relieving herself he stood in front of her and bent her head forward, using her mouth for a quick blowjob before work. After gagging her mouth again he scrubbed her body in the shower with his hands, roughly massaging her privates as before, but not letting her come. With her belt and her day-cuffs locked back on her body Clark dismissed her to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the three of them, then he hustled back downstairs to collect Claire for her bathroom break and daily scrubbing. Rhonda marveled at how careful he was being with them, not giving either girl a moment's freedom, either of limb or voice. He only took her gag out when he was ready to replace it with his penis. Cuffs were always locked on before any ever came off, insuring her captivity even if she had any thoughts that it were possible to overpower him. Clark was easily twice Rhonda's weight, and mostly muscle, at that. She felt torn. On the one hand, when she thought of the whole experience as a fantasy she was living out, she felt incredibly feminine and sexual. She enjoyed serving him this way, it felt so natural. On the other hand, it wasn't really clear to either her or Claire how serious the situation was. Were they prisoners? Were they just playing a part? Would he ever let them go so they could return to the lives they had made? It frightened her to think that she would never spend another day of her life without having her mouth forced open by a large, colorful ball; but it excited her, too. She wanted to cuddle with Claire again. The only time they ever touched each other was when their bodies would rub up against each other during their group showers. If it really was just a game then she wanted to enjoy it. If Clark meant to keep her like this indefinitely then she had some things she wanted to talk about with him. But Clark wasn't showing his hand yet.

The ball in Rhonda's mouth jingled as she slowly made her way to the kitchen table, steaming plates of omelet in hand for her Master and her fellow slave. After returning to the table with her own plate, Clark looked up from Rhonda's daily newspaper and directed them to the floor. He stood behind them and unbuckled their gags and had them eat in front of him again, without hands, utensils or napkins. Rhonda shot glances at Claire as they ate side by side like Clark's pet dogs. She didn't seem to mind the degradation, and happily munched away at her meal oblivious to Rhonda and her inquisitive looks. When they finished Clark herded them back to the basement, bound the same as always, and left for work. Claire and Rhonda shared similar thoughts of helplessness and lust that day. Each was becoming accustomed to the routine, and getting more and more comfortable with the idea of a life servitude. Despite herself, Rhonda's thoughts had become altered, thinking to herself, "I hope Master fucks me when he gets home", instead of, "I hope Clark fucks me when he gets home". Claire had forgotten the strange man's name very soon after his arrival, and thought of him only as "Master".

The rest of the week passed very slowly for Rhonda, as Clark had continued to use just her mouth, and only in the mornings. In the evenings he continued to probe Claire's body, abusing her ass again on Wednesday and Thursday night. He fucked her mercilessly, and always right in front of Rhonda. Claire took particular pleasure in Clark's use of an anal hook on her, which was a device she had never seen before. He showed up Thursday evening with the item in hand, and after sliding it into her backside, he tied it off to her ponytail, forcing her head back by the hair, and screwed her doggy-style on the floor. He instructed her to signal through her gag to him when she was about to come, and whenever she did, he leaned back and pulled the orb-like head of the hook out of her ass, stretching her sphincter, and then back in, repeatedly, as her pussy throbbed around his dick in orgasmic contraction. She felt so objectified, and she came so many times her abdomen muscles quickly became exhausted, leaving her form limp and even more defenseless to his onslaughts. Claire had never known such control, not only over her body, but her mind and emotions as well. She was desperate to please him at every turn, and to follow every command with youthful enthusiasm. Rhonda was so turned on by the sight she no longer shed any more tears. She just humped the floor, yearning for some of his attention for herself. Claire's tits looked so amazing swaying violently back and forth underneath her as Clark violently thrust into her from behind. With his strong hands gripping her hips, the young girl's body seemed like a toy that he was merely playing with. And, ohh, how she squirmed beneath him!

When Friday evening finally rolled around, Claire and Rhonda had completely lost sense of time, and any hope for freedom. After the girls ate he carried Claire down the stairs and kissed her tenderly on the forehead before padlocking her in place. Claire whined and began to cry as she realized he was not going to have sex with her. As she sobbed herself to sleep, alone in the basement, Clark took Rhonda to her own bed, upstairs, and slowly made love to her imprisoned body. Rhonda could hardly believe it, but her desire to understand the reasons for the change were quickly lost when she finally felt the head of Clark's dick press into her slippery sex. It had been exactly a week since she had fucked, or had an orgasm. She met his thrusts as best she could despite her bonds, and grunted her enthusiasm at him from behind her jingling ball gag. A week of orgasm denial had served her well. She was now conditioned, body, mind and soul, to feel grateful for the man's attention. After several hours of slow, passionate lovemaking, throughout which Rhonda was compliant and enthusiastic, he held her in his arms and finally spoke meaningful words to her.

"Claire will forgive your deceptions. I've seen her looking at you when you're not paying attention. She may put up a fight at first, but she'll come around, with time. I'll see to that." He stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray he had placed on Rhonda's bedside table. She never let him smoke in her house before, when she still had some say in the nature of their relationship. Now she didn't seem to mind. He could smoke all he wanted, so long as he fucked her from time to time. "I want the two of you to stay lovers. I can accept that sometimes you will need to make love to each other, as long as you both understand that you belong to me, first and foremost.

"I'm going to the cape again tomorrow, so I guess I'll be letting the two of you go soon. Here is what I propose: I would like to be your weekend Master. You and Claire can do whatever you like from Sunday night to Friday afternoon, but on the weekends, I want you both to subject yourselves to my control. This is just a proposition, it's not a demand, so you both can have all week to think it over. If you're willing to serve me simply bind yourselves in the basement next Friday night, exactly as you did last Saturday morning, only without the ice buckets. I will come for you. If you don't have the courage to do it, then I'll show up and we'll sit down for a nice cup of tea and have a chat. You should know, however, that if we do have that cup of tea, it will be the last time either of you ever see me again. I expect you'll relay my offer to Claire. Now I think I'll have a crack at your ass before sending you to bed."

Between gasps of pain and pleasure, Rhonda was overcome with emotion at the way things had turned out. Knowing that it had all been an intense game finally allowed her to relax and enjoy her submission. Her first anal fuck was breathtaking, and not nearly as painful as she had feared. He even fiddled with her clit near the end, bringing her to another climax just as he emptied his sperm into her from behind. She slept soundly just a few short minutes after he was done with her, exhausted from a week's worth of bondage, humiliation, chastity, and sweet sexual release.

Clark used Claire's mouth for the first time as she sat on the toilet, relieving herself Saturday morning. Rhonda watched helplessly from her tethered position in the shower. As the blonde felt his familiar, soapy hands slide over and inside her pussy, she fought the urge to complain from behind her gag. Wasn't he letting them go today? Didn't he promise her he would release them so he could go to the cape? Her chance to speak out arrived with breakfast, as her gag was removed so she could feed, but she kept her mouth shut. Rhonda didn't fear his wrath anymore, only his disappointment. She needed to trust him now, or this new life might be lost for both her and Claire. So she obediently sucked down a glass of water from her straw before he replaced her gag, this time with the ball with the hole in the center that mated to the feeding tube downstairs.

"Let's see here . . ." Clark mused as he examined the double-dildoed sybian machine after tethering Rhonda and Claire to their respective sides of the basement again. Clark found the on/off switch and the dildos pleasantly came to life, twisting in place as they thrust up and down. He could also hear the vibrator beneath the raised nodules that were designed to stimulate the clitoris when mounted. "That looks like fun! I'm sorry I'm going to miss that," Clark mumbled to himself as he stood up and looked about the room one final time. Rhonda finally started paying attention to what he was looking at. Up until that point she had believed he was about to release them. Now as she followed his eyes about the room she noticed a familiar set up, one that he must have assembled while she still slept that morning.

"Looks like everything's in order, girls. You've got your feeding tubes within reach. The machine has been refilled with Brown-sugar oatmeal and water. Your piss pots have been emptied. All that's left are your keys. I'll go get them." Clark almost skipped up the stairs and out of sight. Rhonda shot Claire many questioning looks from behind her gag, but the brunette just stared blankly back at her. Claire was apparently in on the joke, it seemed. Rhonda felt like she'd had quite had enough of this game, thank-you very much, and was desperate to stretch her limbs out, remove her gag, and have a nice long talk with her girlfriend. It just wasn't fair!

"Here they are!" Clark called out as he returned with the two, large ice buckets, setting them by the door. As he strung the keys into the pulleys on the ceiling he did one final double check. "Now let me get this straight. These two keys," he said, fingering the keys that were held in place by the smaller ice bucket, "release your belts and extend your tether chains so that the two of you can ride the sybian in the middle of the room. That right?" He looked over at Claire, who nodded excitedly. "And then the rest of the keys unlock everything else?" Claire nodded again. "Good. I guess that just about does it."

Rhonda was incensed. How DARE he?! He was determined to keep them this way, adding insult to their injuries, for another 24 hours, after which they would probably hump the machine side-by-side like they had originally planned. Of course they would. Rhonda was well aware of what staring at a trussed-up Claire would do to her sex drive for another day. But it just wasn't fair! He was leaving! Why couldn't he just let them go, too?

"I'll miss you my pet," said Clark to Claire as he cradled her head in his hands, standing above her. She lovingly rubbed her face into his open palms and her body against his leg. "As for you," he said to Rhonda as she shifted awkwardly away from him, obviously hurt at this perceived betrayal. "It's up to you how well we'll get along moving forward." He pulled on her tether lifting her to her knees by the neck, choking her as he rubbed her defenseless breasts with his opposite hand. "I know you better than you know yourself. I know that you like this," he said as he twisted her nipples, eliciting a squeal of pain from her gagged mouth. "Perhaps in time you will realize it, and accept my handling of you more obediently." He slapped at her teats as she continued to fight for air. "Perhaps not." He released her and she slumped to the ground, recovering her senses. Despite the hurt and the betrayal, her sex dripped with excitement.

Clark ascended the stairs and closed the door behind him, leaving his charges imprisoned to their own devises after a week of repeatedly probing their holes with his cock. Rhonda turned onto her back and let loose an enraged howl from behind her gag. All of her emotions were behind it: rage, lust, humiliation . . . . After screaming herself hoarse she curled up into the fetal position and cried. Her body convulsed with sobs for several hours as Claire looked on, a line of drool hanging from her vacant, submissive stare.

They took turns feeding. Rhonda couldn't look her former lover in the eyes anymore. She spent most of the time crying, turned away from her partner. By Sunday morning Claire was finally convinced of Rhonda's remorse, and began to feel sincere affection and sympathy for her friend again. When the first set of keys finally dropped Sunday afternoon, Rhonda didn't even turn her head, convinced Claire would no longer love her and resigned to wait for the full set to drop, but Claire cooed at her, beckoning for her attention after releasing her tether. The fact of the matter was each girl was incapable of releasing her own chastity belt with her elbows and hands bound as they were. The original plan was for one girl to release the other, so Rhonda dutifully accepted the keys from Claire, released her own tether, and then unlocked the brunette's belt. She tossed it aside and began to turn away again, back to her own private hell, but Claire quickly leaned into her and grasped at her hands, pulling the blonde close. As Claire lovingly nuzzled up to her, rubbing her slick gag over Rhonda's and pressing her tits into her body, the blonde reacted, passionately. They fumbled with each other as they fell to the floor, tightly holding hands as Rhonda shed some final tears of joy and relief at her forgiveness. Claire cooed at her, comfortingly as Rhonda calmed down. They were finally together again, and of their own free will, at least, of limited will. Claire giggled as she fumbled with the lock on Rhonda's belt and her thigh cuffs. When they finally came free the blonde shifted forward and Claire began to passionately rub her pussy with her hands making Rhonda swoon with desire.

Rhonda motioned for Claire to turn around so she could remove the young girl's plug, but Claire shook her head and turned her ass away from her. In an effort to demonstrate her affection for the plug, Claire sat flat on her rump, forcing the plug deep inside her ass as she grunted with desire, rolling her eyes back into her head. Her shoulders shook with need as she looked down at her pussy. Rhonda followed her eyes and saw the girl's cunt ooze with natural lubricant as she bounced lovingly on the plug. Apparently, Claire quite enjoyed having her ass filled, and was not ready to have her plug removed. Rhonda stared back at her lover with amazement at her sexuality. Claire was dripping with desire, and the sight of it stoked the fires in Rhonda's pussy. If Claire was going to leave the plug in, Rhonda was going to as well, damn it!

They continued to clench their hands together as they took turns mounting the sybian. Rhonda thrust her head back with lust when the pumping dildo finally impaled her sex. It worked wonderfully, thrusting deep inside them while stimulating their clits. Her first orgasm came quickly, and powerfully. Throughout the many that followed, Claire and Rhonda continued to hold each other's hands, wincing with lust behind their gags, and gaping dumbfounded at each other from the sight of bound female flesh before them.

Rhonda turned off the engine and closed the garage door. Claire's Ford Escort, a 15 year old clunker, looked positively ancient next to her late model Civic. They would have to sell it, Rhonda thought. Claire wouldn't need it anyway. The brunette was currently bound, gagged, and waiting patiently in one of the dog cages for her mate to return from work. Originally, Rhonda had had some scruples about keeping the young girl imprisoned in the basement all day while she went off to work for the last week, but Claire's insistence finally won her over. Rhonda shuddered with desire at the thought of Claire's moist sex, patiently waiting for her return. They recently bought a large, vibrating anal plug for Claire to wear during the day. It plugged into the wall and was set to vibe her ass for ten minutes every hour. Claire could not come from anal stimulation alone, but she could get very close. She wanted to feel arousal constantly during the day while Claire was at work. She considered it good training. Anal play was a fantastic new turn-on for her and Rhonda couldn't argue with that. "Work" took on a whole new meaning when it included the knowledge that your lover's pussy was constantly slick with desire all day.

The previous Sunday night their keys had finally dropped. Overcome with relief and joy, they dismounted their new favorite toy, freed themselves, showered, ate, and slept in each other's arms again, peacefully. Throughout the evening, Rhonda repeatedly sought forgiveness and Claire repeatedly granted it.

"I'm so sorry about Clark! I should have told you about him. And I'm sorry about the things he did to you."

"I liked the things he did to me," Claire had said. "In fact, I sort of wish he was still here, and that I was still tied up downstairs." Rhonda had instantly felt deep sorrow at the loss of her lover, but Claire kissed her and reassured her of their bond by explaining further. "Nothing could ever replace you, my darling. No man. No woman. You will always be special to me. I love you, dearly. But I loved being used, too. I wish there was some way that we could still be together, and still be used by . . . what was his name again?"

Feeling better about herself, Rhonda conveyed Clark's offer of control to her partner. Claire was clearly all for the idea but Rhonda had some concerns of her own. "Normally you and I see each other on the weekends. If Clark uses us every weekend like that, when will we get to use each other?"

"Let me move in with you," she responded. Claire explained that she was now unemployed, and probably couldn't afford the rent for her place anymore. She didn't have many possessions, and she loved Rhonda. Didn't Rhonda love her too?

"Yes! Yes, of course I do, but is that really what you want? You are still so young! Who knows? What if someday you want a husband, or children?"

"What I want," mused Claire, without any hesitation, "is to be tied up in the basement every day while you go to work. I'll cook for you. I'll clean for you. I'll eat your pussy every night if that's what it takes. And on weekends, I want the two of us to serve Master together." Claire had such a sweet voice that reminded Rhonda of innocence and inexperience. Clearly, however, the busty brunette knew what she wanted out of life. "I want the two of us to experience control: his control. I want us to be powerless. I want him to force us to please him. I want him to use me, and I want to watch him use you. I want that more than anything."

And so, with her life beginning a whole new chapter of sexual pleasure, Rhonda hung up her overcoat and retired to her bedroom to change outfits after a distracting day of work. "Thank God It's Friday!" she thought to herself as she spent a few minutes in the bathroom to freshen up and put on some makeup. She purposely went heavy on the eyeliner, accentuating her blue eyes and giving her face a slutty look. Clark really liked it when she dolled herself up for playtime.

The D-rings of her collar jingled heavily as she descended the basement stairs. She had chosen to wear her white corset and garter-belt combo for the weekend. Pure white heels and stockings added to the ensemble to give her the appearance of a virginal bride on her wedding night. Soon, she knew, her ass would be filled and her mouth would be gagged, but before tying herself she concluded she deserved to have a little fun with her new housemate first. She grabbed a switch off the wall and unlocked Claire's dog cage. "Come on, my pet. Out of the cage!"

Claire whimpered in lust from behind her panel-gag. She had been in the middle of one of her vibrating plug sessions when Rhonda arrived and felt very close to the orgasm she couldn't have. Rhonda released some of the straps that held the girl in a ball tie and led her over to the bed. Claire was in the middle of a long period of strict bondage discipline, and even though the young girl was clearly enjoying herself, Rhonda could see the physical strain it was having on her. Claire was now in her second day of tight bondage and orgasm denial, and the weekend with Clark hadn't even begun yet.

Claire had moved in with Rhonda the Monday after the previous week's release from Clark's control. Although she was spending a large portion of her days chained to her side of the basement wall, by the time Thursday morning rolled around, she was practically begging Rhonda to keep her there constantly, even at night. Claire also wanted Rhonda to start using her, as roughly and impulsively as Clark had done. The sexual tension in her voice made for a convincing argument from Rhonda's perspective, and she did love playing with Claire's body. Claire's requested round-the-clock submission would certainly allow Rhonda to do that, but she had two concerns.

Logistically, Rhonda was concerned about binding her lover and leaving her in the basement alone, especially at night. She slept on the satin bed that Thursday night, as a way to keep Claire company and to be her safety. On her way to work the next morning she stopped by a pharmacy and picked up a baby monitor. Leaving Claire alone during the daytime was unavoidable but she felt better about being able to monitor her during the night. The little device became Rhonda's constant companion around the house in the years that followed.

Rhonda's second concern was that if she continued giving into Claire's wishes for uninterrupted imprisonment, she would become nothing more than a gimp slave for herself and Clark. This concern was justified when after just a month's time living with Rhonda, Claire asked her to pay for a series of operations that would leave her tubes tied and her vocal cords cut. Claire would argue that her life as a fucktoy did not require her to speak. Needless to say, pregnancy and motherhood were not on her "to-do" list. As the years rolled by and the basement became more fully automated, Claire would become exactly that: a gimp. Rhonda and Clark would eventually stop talking to the girl, other than to give her monosyllabic commands like "kneel" and "suck", instead subconsciously referring to her in the third person, even when she was present. Claire was a fast learner, and quickly developed some expert oral skills to apply to her Master and Mistress. Over time Clark and Rhonda would become negligent to the brunette's lust, using her ass and mouth frequently, given the delights they offered, but failing to reciprocate by allowing Claire any orgasms. Strangely, she didn't seem to mind at all. She fed off the sexual tension, not the release, and as the months and years of bondage and abuse passed, she found she was happier than she could have ever dreamed, despite the orgasm denial. She had discovered a satisfying contentment in her place, as a mindless sexual toy.

Rhonda was too carried away with lust to anticipate Claire's full transformation with young girl's tongue working its magic on her pussy that Friday night. Rhonda turned up the vibrations on the plug and casually swatted at Claire's ass with the switch while the girl gave her a few strong orgasms before Rhonda was to make the final preparations for Clark's return. After praising her new toy for her efforts, Rhonda led her upstairs to clean and feed her. After chaining her up to the wall again, Rhonda played with Claire's breasts for a half-hour before she cuffed herself, spread eagle, on top of the satin sheets on the bed. Before completely restraining herself, but after locking her ring gag on and plugging her ass, Rhonda took the time to draft a letter for her new Master. Here is what it said:

Dear Clark,

I know I have disobeyed your instructions in binding myself this way for you but if Claire and I are going to submit our bodies to your control, I have to voice my concerns now because I may not get a second chance. Even though your offer of control was unilateral, perhaps you will consider my counter-offer before concluding that my actions have been a challenge to your authority. They aren't. The truth is, we need you, and we are both willing to serve, in our own way.

Claire constantly craves control. I don't know what you did to her, but she now has her heart set on spending the rest of her life in this basement. She is young, Clark, and I'm not ready to give her completely to you yet. I will agree to care for her and use her during the weekdays if you will agree to care for and use the two of us on the weekends, just as you requested. Please allow me this concession. We've been in a long relationship together and I have very strong feelings for her. I promise not to interfere with your control of her, or myself, when you are in my house; however, in your absence, I'm asking you to let me guide her through this new phase of her life. I think this will be wise, because while Claire is fully submissive, I like to switch from time to time.

Lastly I am nervous about submitting to you indefinitely. I crave your dominance and that scares me a little. You see, before I met you, I had only ever submitted to myself, using self-bondage as my tool. Now you are asking me to trust you by handing you the keys. It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I'm afraid to trust anyone but myself. Are you going to hurt me? Are you going to break my heart? Are you going to leave me unfulfilled? I don't know now, but I believe I will know soon. So I'm asking that we sit down in one year's time to renegotiate the terms of our arrangement. In all likelihood nothing will change, but I'm asking you now for that option.

Until that day you will find your toys bound and gagged every Friday night by 8pm. I'm confident you will leave us in that condition every following Sunday night for the next year of our lives.

With love,

Rhonda

P.S. Please use my mouth and observe how intensely I look into your eyes while you abuse me . . . Master.