Author's Note: You asked for it so here it is ! The sequel to 'When in Rome...'

In publishing this, I suspect I may be setting myself up to fail; sequels have a habit of disappointing. However, the original received such a positive response that I felt I should try to write a little more about Sally and Mark and their travels if, for no other reason than to give me the opportunity to thank you all for your feedback. It gives me a real buzz to see that people have enjoyed (or at least reacted) to my writing.

Having written 'When in Rome...' I gave no thought to a sequel and, in fact, I nearly didn't submit it at all as I was unsure how it would be received. It was a bit different to my other stories so I even sent it under a different name.

So, I hope you enjoy 'Return to Mirkada.' If you do, please rate it, if you don't please let me know why. If you do like it then please read and rate my other stories published under 'thepinkbishop' or, in one case, due to an unfortunate typo 'thepinkbiship'.


1) THE INVITATION

I moaned into my gag as Sally squeezed my aching balls.

'Don't be such a baby.' She chided. 'We've only been at this for an hour.'

It felt a lot longer than that and my shoulders ached from the bondage. It wasn't strict, certainly not compared to the tight restraints I used on Sally but then any woman who's had a child will tell you they can take way more pain than a man. I was standing with my wrists cuffed to chains that hung from one of the beams in our bedroom, my arms spread, held just above shoulder height. My ankles were also cuffed, locked together by a short chain. I was naked apart from a collar.

Before she'd cuffed me I had helped Sally into her vilisqaz, the bodice and leggings at least and, of course, the toe boots and now she stood before me, several inches taller, a dominatrix worthy of my utter devotion. I wondered if any man could resist the opportunity to kneel naked and collared at such a woman's feet before could resist the command to strap her into such a beautiful garment: the collar, the tight straps around her breasts, the little waist cinching corset with its tight crotch strap; to buckle each strap of the leggings down her long slim legs and then fasten the toe boots in place.

No wonder my cock stood alert in salute to her.

After I'd finished dressing her, I could see she was excited, wanted the rest of the garment: the tight single sleeve that pinned her arms behind her; her elbows touched easily now after two years of wearing it so regularly. I knew she wanted the bridle too with its gag and blindfold, an opportunity to lose herself in helpless and delicious bondage, give her body up to the submissive desires that had been brought to life in our visit to Mirkada.

She had, however, resisted.

'You've been a very naughty boy.' She had told as she began strapping me into bondage.

She had told me the same thing several times this evening.

'After what you've done, you deserve a lot more than an hour in a bit of light bondage.' She stood beside me, tall and slim, her toned body packaged tightly in its leather straps, my elegant dominatrix with her impossibly long legs and lovely large breasts, held in cones now by the straps of the vilisqaz, her nipples clearly visible at their tips, stiff and erect like my drooling cock.

She was being a little unfair in her judgement of me but I was not really in a position to argue even if I wanted to.

I wasn't to know her presentation had been delayed.

She slapped me hard on the bottom and my cock twitched.

'Have you any idea what it's like standing in front of the vice chancellor trying to convince him that he should give you a chair with a vibrator buzzing furiously inside you ?'

I hadn't.

She slapped me again.

'I asked you a question, Slave !'

I shook my head.

'I imagine it's a bit like you giving one of your lectures with me kneeling behind the lectern giving you a blow job as you try to speak.' For emphasis she grasped my cock and milked it gently.

'Can you imagine trying to concentrate while I work up and down my your aching shaft with my mouth and tongue ?' Her lips were very close to my face, her breath warm on my cheek. As she spoke she worked her hand up and down my shaft making me drool.

I moaned again into me gag.

'I can see you might have some insight into my position.'

She slapped me again and I nearly came, my cock twitching, a fresh string of fluid dripping from its tip.

'Ooohhhh ! Naughty boy !' She squeezed my cock. 'Way too soon for that.'

I looked at her, excited by the saucy smile she couldn't quite keep from playing across her face.

She crossed to her dresser, beautiful and elegant on her toe boots; and I watched the sway of her taught buttocks, the strap of her vilisqaz disappearing deeply between them. She picked up a pair of nipple clamps letting them dangle over her finger, displaying them as she walked back towards me, fully aware of how she also displayed her body; her slim, corseted waist, her breasts jutting out towards me, her wicked smile. She lifted the clamps opening one to show me the little toothed jaws and then rubbed the tips over my left nipple.

'These really are pathetic.' She pressed the tip of the clamp harder scratching my nipple painfully. Absolutely nothing to grab hold off.'

I looked at her. She was so stunningly perfect at this moment I knew I would allow her to do anything to me.

'Not like mine.' She moved the clamp to one of her own nipples, teasing it and I actually felt disappointment that she might not use it on me. 'Tell me, do you ever think how much it hurts when you clamp my nipples ?' She closed the clamp gently around her own nipple. 'What I endure when you lead me to bed by my clamped nipples ?' She tugged on the chain. 'Do you ever think how painful it can be to wear my nipple pendants for your pleasure all day and half the night ?'

I knew she didn't wear them entirely for my pleasure.

She released her nipple and placed the clamp around my own, ensuring she took a good bite of flesh.

Then she added the second...tugged the chain.

I nearly came again.

'Mistress just asked you a question, Slave !' She tugged on the nipple chain.

I shook my head. I had no idea what it was.

She pulled harder on the nipple chain drawing me towards her.

'You should know that I'm planning to keep you in bondage all night, complete with nipple clamps.' She gave them a little tug. 'Would you like that, Slave ? Would you like to spend the night chained at the foot of my bed, with a plug in your butt and clamps on your nipples, chained up by the neck, lying there in bondage, hogtied perhaps, gagged and blindfolded while your mistress sleeps peacefully ?'

She squeezed my cock.

I nodded.

'You really are a pathetic little slave...'

I nodded again, aware I was blushing.

'But I can be a kind mistress too.' She held my balls, squeezing gently. 'Would you like a chance to redeem yourself ?'

I nodded.

'Good boy.' She smiled her most bewitching smile. 'So, in a moment I'm going to cuff your wrists behind your back; then I'm going to make you kneel down; then I'm going to sit on the bed and you're going to crawl to me and beg me to let you worship me and then, if you do that, I'm going to undo my crotch strap and let you show me just how sorry you are for the terrible thing you did to me this morning. Understand ?'

I nodded, smiling behind my gag.

It was at that moment the phone rang. Sally frowned and I assumed she'd ignore it but then she grinned.

'Don't go away.' She gave my balls another squeeze and turned away giving me a chance to watch her tight bottom. Sally is sexy walking in heels but in toe boots I would defy any man not to ogle the way she sticks her bottom out.

I watched her walk to the door pausing deliberately to bend down and pick up the cane she had used on me earlier showing my how the thin strap between her legs barely concealed her pussy.

As she stood, she turned back and smiled and then walked out into the hall.

I sighed into my gag with pleasure.

'It's Salaxis.' Sally came back into the bedroom holding the phone to her ear. She was still carrying the cane. She smiled at me and then spoke into the handset. 'Mark ? He's a little tied up at the moment.'

A pause.

'Are you trying to tell me Taiarche isn't ?'

Another pause.

'I thought so.'

She listened again.

'Yes, he usually does but I like to ring the changes sometimes.'

She laughed.

'Yes, but tonight it's a little bit more than 'topping from the bottom'.'

She tucked the phone under her ear and flexed the cane.

'Alright, but he is gagged so it might be a rather one-sided conversation.'

I blushed as she listened.

'That sounds interesting.' She toyed with the chain between my nipple clamps. 'Let me ask him.' She looked at me; she was still holding my nipple chain and, as she spoke she was winding it round her finger, tightening it.

'Salaxis has commissioned a documentary on Mirkada and he'd like you to be involved, give a historical perspective.' She grinned. 'He's willing to pay for our flights and a week at the Munro.'

She winked. We'd both longed to go back to Mirkada but somehow with our work commitments hadn't quite managed to organise it.

'You can say no if you want to.' She pressed mute then jerked on my nipple chain pulling me towards her. 'But Mistress will be very disappointed with you.'

I nodded.

She turned off mute. 'Yes, we'd love to. I mean he'd love to.'

Mercifully she released my nipple chain.

'Friday ? Dinner. Yes, we'd love to see you.' She walked behind me. 'Wouldn't we, Mark ?'

I looked round. 'Eyes, front.' She struck me with the cane. 'Mistress asked you a question, Slave.'

I hoped I was on mute. I nodded.

'Come over at about seven.'

She struck me again.

'Go on, you know you want to.' I could see Sally's excitement mounting.

'It's a little early.' She looked up at the clock.

'I'm sure we can find a way to pass the time.' I wanted her dressed.

'Well, if you insist.' Sally tried to hide her smile. 'You know what to do with the dinner.'

'Yes, I know.' I refrained from adding any comment about being her galley slave.

'Alright.' Sally turned to allow me to undo her dress and then slid it down over her hips to reveal the soft grey vintage style lingerie she liked to wear.

'Are these new ?'

'Nice of you to notice.'

One of the joys of her internet lingerie shopping is that we receive regular emails from lingerie companies advertising their garments. Sally was currently rather partial to 'What Katie Did.'

It also meant that I knew what was coming and could comment on it; though in most cases I would probably have noticed anyway.

I undid her bra.

'Sir is too kind.' She slipped it off and then slid out of her knickers. She'd recently returned from an archeological dig near Seville and had a beautiful and, surprisingly, all over tan.

I hadn't asked how.

'Perhaps you'd help me with my stockings.'

I needed no further request.

Sally's vilisqaz, her first, is in red leather, soft and pliant now after two years of regular use. Over those two years since we bought it I, we, have developed a ritual for dressing her. We always begin with the little corset, cinching Sally's slim waist; then comes the collar and, as I buckled it in place she automatically lifted her lovely thick dark hair, much longer now than it had been when we had first travelled to Mirkada; we didn't usually use the locks but tonight was special, a visit from the friends who, perhaps somewhat unwittingly, had introduced us to a world of pleasure after a chance meeting in a distant hotel. Though we had kept in touch by phone and email and met twice when Salaxis was in London on business it was the first time they would come to our home.

Sally wanted to look her best and I thus locked the collar and coset in place as was correct for a Mirkadian lady. She had, I knew, been in touch with Taiarche a lot more regularly than I had with Salaxis.

The straps around her breasts came next, the conework of straps that lifted her large breasts, making them jut out before her, displaying her nipples which, when she was dressed like this always seemed to stand out like bullets. When I had first started to dress her in the garment, I had bound her arms before applying the breast straps, largely to give me the opportunity to handle her lovely sensitive breasts freely but, as we had enjoyed this sort of intimacy more regularly, I had realised that Sally liked to settle her breasts into the straps, something that made her more comfortable, particularly if she was to wear the garment for a long period. I did, however, always enjoy helping her and always got to fasten her nipple pendants in place.

With her breasts secured, I applied the chest straps, tightening them, particularly the ones over her shoulders; this was important to hold her corset firmly when I strapped her leggings in place. The toe boots came next; again doing this with her restrained had been a pleasure but not always practical and, even now with her being perfectly comfortable on the precipitous heels she struggled to balance as I dressed her; I thus let her have her arms free as I buckled and locked the little ankle boots in place, and then worked my way up her legs, adjusting each strap around Sally's lovely toned calfs and thighs. The leggings were held in place by buckles on her corset that looked rather like the suspenders she had just removed.

Now I was ready to restrain her. Sally knew this and, without being asked, slid her hands behind her back to accept the single sleeve or monoglove as they tended to call it in Mirkada. The red leather had once been stiff enough to hold her arms more firmly, especially when she had strained to get her elbows to touch but now it allowed more movement, stretching over her skin though leaving her just as helpless. The monoglove required lacing and, as always took time to adjust properly.

I have read that one of the pleasures of bondage, often rope bondage which takes time to apply, is that the dom and sub spend time together, enjoying an intimacy that is sometimes lost in the busy modern world; it is a time, assuming one is not bound by rules that enforce silence, where intimate secrets can be shared and, even if there is a power balance, it is an opportunity for a submissive or slave to request permission to speak.

The same is true regarding the dressing of a woman in a vilisqaz, it cannot be rushed and, over the two years since we had bought it, moments like this one had brought us far more closely together, brought an understanding of each other and each others' needs that many couples, perhaps, do not ever find.

It had certainly given us an opportunity to explore our sexual inclinations to a far greater degree than before and, while we had practiced bondage before our trip to Mirkada where we had bought the garment, we had not enjoyed it to anything like the degree to which we did now.

'Happy ?' I ran my hands down the outside of Sally's monoglove; enjoying the smooth soft leather; her elbows were touched easily now.

'Very.' Sally gave a soft sigh and I reached round to hold her against me, my hands running up to her breasts, toying with her nipples.

She sighed again, pressing herself back against me, her head turning, lips caressing the side of my face and my hand slipped down to her sex.

'Gag me first.' Her voice was soft, breathy, a clear a sign of her arousal as the stiffness of her nipples of the wetness of her sax.

I helped her down to her knees and took up the bridle, reaching over her head to lift the large red ball into her open mouth and settling it into place between her teeth; then I buckled the straps into place behind her head and under her chin before pulling the upper part over her eyes and fixing it into place.

Her arousal was even more obvious now, her breathing irregular, deeper, her chest and face flushed. I could smell her body's repsonse.

with her now gagged and blindfolded, I gently guided her to her feet, steadying her and then attached her leash. We were in the bedroom and it was only a few steps to the bed but I wanted to do this properly. Sally was almost fully dressed, helpless, delicious, trembling with excitement. The crotch strap could be applied later and would get in the way for what was coming next but the nipple pendants needed attaching.

She gasped as I clipped each one to her hugely swollen and very sensitive nipple. I might have thought that, with all the clips and clamps I had used on her she might have become used to the little pendants that I so enjoyed seeing swing from her nipples as she moved but somehow, each time, her nipples seemed more rather than less sensitive.

I took up her leash and kissed her gently on the lips, stretched now around the large ball in her mouth. She responded by pushing herself against me: lips, breasts, sex.

When kept like this she could barely control her needs, this eloquent, erudite women gripped so utterly by her base desires that she allowed herself to become my sexual plaything.

I lead her to the bed, no more than a few steps and she followed obediently, probably disappointed that she was not to be made to walk further on the leash. Such sentiments were perhaps not those of the Mirkadians who maintained that the vilisqaz said more about the respect that should be offered to a woman wearing one, a women who needed to be waited on hand and foot, who could not be made to work, but was there to be idolised, worshipped, adored.

Laying her down beside me I held her close, enjoying the firmness and warmth her body, my hands running over her skin. She parted her legs and I stroked her sex.

She moaned again and I remembered how she had chided me less than a week ago, our roles reversed. I considered teasing her now but in her beautifully submissive state she was in a world of ecstasy and I didn't want to spoil that; perhaps the wisdom of Mirkada was right afterall.

As I withdrew my fingers, wet and sticky from her sex she moaned into her gag but rather than push her hips forward she seemed to struggle in her bonds. It took me a few moments to realise she was trying to roll over. Sally enjoys being held with her back to me as foreplay and sometimes after sex too. When she is helpless it gives me free access to her nipples and her sex and feeling her squirm as I tease her gives me huge pleasure.

I thus helped her roll, and held her as close as her bound arms would allow but it soon became clear she was after a little more and she bent forward thrusting her bottom back against me.

'Daag .eee !' She seemed to be saying 'take me'.

I continued to tease her, toying with her nipples but she was insistent.

'Bleeassh ! Daag .eee ! Shuuuggg .eee !'

'Are you asking for anal sex ?' I couldn't believe it though I was excited at the prospect.

She nodded vigourously thrusting herself against me.

Well, if you insist.

'Mmmmmm !' She nodded for emphasis.

We'd done it a few times before, part of our sexual journey over the previous two years but it had never been that good. Sally enjoyed me using my hands on her nipples and sex as we coupled and I certainly appreciated the tightness of her anal ring but she always seemed a little uncomfortable and I was always alert to the possibility of hurting her; even if I might spank her from time to time.

It seemed she wanted to give it another try.

My cock was stiff and the tip was very wet; entering her was not a problem and the tightness around me was wonderful.

I felt her thrust back against me and tried hard not to respond too forcefully though the urge to thrust into her was almost unbearable. Almost as a distraction, I began to play with her nipples but this did not have the usual effect.

'.aaadaaa.' Sally thrust against me. She had definitely said 'harder'.

I pushed into her feeling her bottom push up against my balls.

Sally gasped and pushed again.

It was a delicious sensation the tight ring teasing my cock, utterly stimulating and yet her grip firm enough each time I withdrew to stop me climaxing too. I was in ecstasy, thrusting firmly, almost withdrawing as Sally lay submissively allowing me to pleasure myself in a completely new way. There are some that might say I was a little old for my first true experience of the pleasures of anal sex but all I can say is that it was worth the wait.

Caught in a tide of sexual pleasure, I began to tease her again, hoping she could enjoy the moment as much as me and soon had her panting but it was clear she wan't going to cum.

'I'm going to cum.' I told her gently and she nodded, moaning softly though her gag.

I couldn't hold on any longer and with a cry of pleasure I came inside her pumping hard as tried to draw out the pleasure to its maximum. As I climaxed I was aware of Sally thrusting against me hard. I was so lost in my own excitement that it was hard to tell whether it gave her pleasure but as I lay gasping and holding her I was sure she smiled around her gag.

We lay together for several minutes both breathing hard but then the pressure on my cock became too intense and I was forced to pull out.

'Thank you.' I kissed her and she pressed herself against me, helpless and submissive.

'Now I think it's your turn for a bit of fun.' I tried to roll her over but she resisted.

'Sally...'

'Fidraaador !'

'What ?'

She repeated the word.

'You want the vibrator ?'

Sally nodded.

I felt slightly rejected but I know how Sally likes to spend time in bondage, enjoying the helplessness it affords, an hour squirming on the sitting room rug while I watch TV or mark papers is something she enjoys whether I give her the vibrator or not. I have a suspicion that she sometimes does it by herself when I'm out but perhaps that's just a fantasy I have of coming home to find her struggling in some self bondage scenario of her own devising.

She has a collection of toys but, although she's shared a couple of them with me, I'm really not sure which one she prefers and, when she asks to be tied, up she's usually already got something inside her, all I have to do is turn her on. I do, however, know how she likes to be tied.

It took me only a moment to push the vibrator we'd bought in Mirkada inside her, this is the one with the remote control, the one that had got me into trouble only a few days earlier. I then pushed her butt plug in before pulling crotch strap of her vilisqaz firmly against her sex and then tightening it deep between her lovely firm buttocks. She squirmed deliciously as I did this, panting around her gag; her face was wet with saliva and there was a wet patch on the sheet where she was drooling. Then I crossed her ankles and strapped her legs together at the knee and ankle.

'Mmmmmmmm !'

Finally, I took a belt and used it to fasten her ankle strap to her wrist strap hogtying her.

'Comfy ?'

She nodded enthusiastically.

'You've got just over an hour.' I patted her bottom. 'I'll leave you to enjoy yourself.'

I walked towards the bathroom door.

'Mmmmaaaarrrggggg !'

I whistled to myself, turning on the shower.

'Ooooouuu daaarrrsssshdaaarrd !'

I smiled to myself and switched on the vibrator.

She could have half power now and full power when I came out of the shower. I didn't want my wife completely exhausted before the evening started.

Salaxis arrived a little after eight looking as splendidly distinguished as always, dressed this evening in a raw linen suit; perfect for the warm summer evening though he might have found it cool by the standards of Mirkada. Taiarche was with him, of course, her graceful form draped in a hooded cloak that gave the an air of mystery which, I thought, would probably attract as much interest from our neighbours as if they saw her sashay up the path in full vilisqaz, though perhaps not quite as much scandal. Needless to say, when Salaxis gently slid back his lovely wife's hood as they stood on the doorstep, it revealed that she was gagged and blindfolded, her lips stretched around a large white ball and two padded leather discs strapped over her eyes; despite the bondage, her hair was, perfectly coifed and, I suspected under her bondage, her make up was perfect too; her lips were certainly painted a beautiful cherry red that matched the straps of her bridle and contrasted beautifully with the whiteness of her teeth and gag.

Salaxis shook my hand firmly and I bent to kiss his lovely wife on the cheeks, enjoying the scent of her perfume and warmth of her cheek. Then he lead her across the threshold and removed the cloak to reveal the full extent of her helplessness. Taiarche's vilisqaz was a little less revealing than Sally's, with a halter type top that supported her breasts though clearly displayed her nipples, surmounted this evening with little diamond clusters clipped to them and sparkling in the hallway lights, she wore leather briefs to match the bra that were surprisingly full and deep, and thigh boots supported in Mirkadian fashion by straps from a very broad suspender belt. Her arms were each strapped into leather sleeves, mitted at the end and clipped together at the fingertips behind her back; by Mirkadian standards and, indeed, her own this was a rather conservative outfit and the bondage surprisingly lax.

I ushered them into the sitting room where Sally already knelt in Mirkadian fashion on a cushion, both dressed and restrained in her vilisqaz, gagged and blindfolded, head bowed, her knees spread and her breasts thrust forward.

'Our guests have arrived, darling.'

Sally lifted her head turning towards me with unerring accuracy despite her blindfold.

'Taiarche is in also in red too this evening.' I smiled remembering the beautiful Mirkadian's own comment about the colour often signifying the passion of youth.

My wife smiled around her gag.

'Cambridge is where we met, after all.' Salaxis bent to kiss Sally then guided Taiarche to the cushion laid out for her beside the coffee table. Despite her bondage and the height of her heels, Taiarche knelt gracefully beside Sally adopting the same position.

Salaxis then sat in the armchair beside his wife, keeping the loop of her leash around his wrist while I opened the champagne we had on ice.

'I believe congratulations are in order, Professor Frost.' Salaxis looked down at Sally who turned her head towards him.

'I'm not sure we know officially yet.' I felt the need to respond as Sally was unable to.

'I do apologise.' Salaxis looked a little embarrassed and I saw Taiarche do that thing that Sally did to me, turning her head to glare at him as if she wasn't blindfolded.

I popped the champagne cork.

'I am an old friend of the vice chancellor's you see.' Salaxis accepted a glass. 'He may have let it slip.' He addressed his words towards Sally. 'He describes you as a very fine women.'

Both women 'glared' at him.

'Perhaps we should allow the ladies to join us.' I placed glasses before them and bent to remove Sally's bridle. Salaxis did the same for Taiarche.

Free once again, relatively at least, Sally and Taiarche wasted no time in kissing their hellos and then we toasted Sally's success offering the ladies a sip of champagne by holding their glasses to their lips.

Over dinner Salaxis told us more about his film plans.

'Mirkada stands at a crossroads.' He sounded slightly sad. 'The twenty first century pushes at our gates. We can either allow it to enter or sit behind our walls and fall into obscurity. The council has decided it is time people learnt about us.'

'Do you really want the world to know all about Mirkada ?' Sally looked at him. 'Aren't you worried it will spoil your...unique...cultural heritage ?'

'The world already knows. A number of visitors have written of their...adventures...in the city. Certain aspects of our culture are beginning attract much interest. Whether we like it or not, the tourists are arriving.'

'My husband is being tactful.' Taiarche added. 'We want to ensure we all kinds of tourists.'

Salaxis frowned. 'Ones who will appreciate various aspects of our city as well as those...sympathetic to all our traditions.'

I saw Sally raise her eyebrows.

'I thought a short documentary on the history and tradition of the city would be a good start. I want to present a balanced view; historical sites, the palace and gardens, the quaint streets, the people as well as their...traditional...dress.' Salaxis smiled. 'So, my friend, I thought of you.'

'Mark made a mini-series on city states last summer.' Sally told him.

It was the main reason we hadn't gone back to Mirkada as planned.

'Yes, we've watched it.' Taiarche told me.

'You probably doubled my viewing figures.' My series had not proved popular; Tom Holland and Mary Beard had nothing to fear. 'Actually, I wanted to do an episode on Mirkada but the production company rejected it.'

'I know.' Salaxis looked slightly embarrassed. 'The council refused them access.'

I must have looked rather surprised.

'I am sorry, Mark. Your proposal was a good one and I supported it but overall, the council did not feel the time was right.'

'But Salaxis is to be governor next year.' Taiarche informed us. 'He has gathered influence in the last year.'

'Governor ?!'

'Yes.' Taiarche grinned. 'Don't you think he looks more distinguished with his greying hair ?'

With his sandy colouring the grey was not that obvious but, now I looked more carefully at his hair and moustache I could see it.

'Taiarche !' The prospective governor seemed to disagree

'Oh Salaxis don't fret, it does make you look distinguished.'

'But there's no need to keep mentioning it.'

'Salaxis we are among friends. I can say what I please.' Taiarche chided. 'Besides it will give you an excuse to put me over your knee when we get back to the hotel and give me a good spanking.'

'You are welcome to stay.' I heard Sally declare. She still knelt beside Taiarche in the sitting room. Both women had, of course, spent the evening restrained.

I was preparing coffee in the kitchen.

Salaxis had stepped into the garden for a cigarette.

'You are very kind but we could not impose.' Taiarche replied. 'Besides, Salaxis and I have a suite at the Strand Palace.' She lowered her voice. 'One large enough that I will not be heard when he spanks me.'

'Is spanking common in Mirkada ?'

I wondered if Taiarche was surprised at the question but then I heard her laugh.

'No, but it is something my husband and I enjoy.' She paused. 'Well, not just us. Just because Mirkada's citizens practice bondage in the street doesn't mean the whole city is a hotbed of BDSM as you would call it, though, I think, it mostly is. That is partly what Salaxis hopes the film will address. In a world where bondage is the norm, vanilla sex could be considered exotic.'

Both women laughed.

'So was Mark really in bondage when my husband phoned ?' Taiarche changed the subject.

'Oh yes.' Sally went on to explain how I had turned on her vibrator during her presentation in front of the vice chancellor.

'You were angry ?' Taiarche sounded concerned.

'Not at all. In fact it was rather exciting.' Sally laughed. 'I just like to remind my husband who's in charge sometimes.' She paused. 'And I quite playing dominant from time to time. Besides I've made up for it since.'

'How ?'

'I let him take me from behind.'

Taiarche gave a slight gasp. 'Properly from behind ?'

'Yes, I followed your advice to relax.'

'And...?'

'It was nice.' Sally's voice sounded slightly dreamy. 'And it let him do all kinds of nice things to my nipples and sex.'

'You will have him fully trained soon.'

Both women laughed

'The incident with the vibrator didn't make any difference to your professorial application ?'

'Of course not.' Sally sounded surprised at the question. 'I was wearing a little linen dress over my waspie corset, my nipples were in danger of popping out every time I breathed. The vice chancellor was putty in my hands.'

The entrance to our house is quite secluded and it was dark when Salaxis and Taiarche prepared to leave so Salaxis did not bother to dress his wife in her cloak though he did replace her bridle before bidding us farewell and leading her down the garden path.

Sally and I watched Taiarche follow him on her leash, her bare skin pale in the moonlight, her hair black and shining; she looked like some captured moon goddess, an ancient spirit forced to disport herself for the base pleasure man. She walked swinging her leather clad bottom with poise as ever despite her bondage and the toe boots. Seeing them go made me want to take Sally out on her leash. It was just gone midnight and the streets were likely to be deserted in this part of Cambridge.

'So what do you think of Taiarche's new look ?' Sally pressed herself against me.

'I imagine by Mirkadian standards it's a bit conservative, matronly even.'

'Quite the fashion expert.' Sally teased.

'No, those were Salaxis' words.' I kissed her gently on the cheek. 'He thinks it's because she's just turned fifty.'

'Does he now ?' Sally clearly thought she knew better. 'Perhaps I should remind you that she is younger than your favourite bondage model.'

'You're my favourite bondage model.' I corrected. 'So, what did she say to you about her vilisqaz ?'

'We share secrets about sex and our husbands, we don't know each other well enough to discuss aging and effects of gravity.'

'Did you share all our sex secrets with her ?'

'No, just most of them.' She kissed me. 'Why ?'

'Oh, I heard some of your conversation with Taiarche.' I grinned. 'It seemed quite intimate.'

'How much did you hear ?'

'Pretty much all of it really.' I slipped my hand into one of Sally's chest straps and turned her to face me. 'Especially the bit about you enjoying being sexually aroused in front of the vice chancellor.'

'Have I been a naughty girl again ?' Sally lowered her eyes.

'You have rather.'

'Oh.' She looked up at me with her most contrite expression. 'I suppose that means you're going to punish me.'

'Of course.'

'Should I go to the bedroom...' She grinned before adding.... '...Sir ?'

She was obviously letting me think I was in charge again.

'Not yet. I was just thinking it was a lovely evening for a stroll.'

'Were you now ?' She gave me a slight frown but eagerly went to fetch her leash when I commanded it, bringing it in her teeth.

I knew that after this evening she was as excited by the prospect of a return to Mirkada as I was. The opportunity to enjoy just a little taste of being walked on a leash was too much temptation for her. Besides, she had been a very naughty girl and this was just the first of her punishments.

2) GETTING THERE IS HALF THE FUN

The Todos Mundo was the hotel from which we had travelled to Mirkada two year before. It had changed a little in that time; most obviously, a new coat of paint hid the facade that had given it a look of crumbling colonial splendour.

On our first visit we had both been intrigued by what we had read about Mirkada but also nervous about the trip, our expectations of what we would find there had been unclear; then we had been bondage neophytes, experimenting with a little gentle tying but, I suppose, even at that stage we both wanted more though neither of us would have admitted it. What couple would not want to visit a city where bondage is the norm even if it didn't always extend to the bedroom ? However, I wonder if we would have gone through with it if we had seen the photographs of the city that now decorated the lobby of the Todos Mondo.

How Sally might have reacted then had she seen the blonde who crossed our path as we entered ?

She was dressed in full vilisqaz, blindfolded and gagged, her wrists crossed and strapped together behind her back; the garment was in white leather with gold buckles and was striking against her honey-tanned skin; it was a rather daring example too, quite the opposite of Taiarche's extremely modest one; the blonde's clothing consisted of a few tiny straps, the top little more than two triangles of leather thongs framing her pert little breasts, straps ran from these to similar bands encircling her slender thighs and then a few thin straps were buckled round her long slim legs; the boots of the garment were more sandals though did force her to walk on the tips of her toes. She was clearly very new to this sort of clothing or, perhaps, the footwear at least; walking on straight legs, she was bent almost double at the waist, tottering awkwardly, her upper body swaying with each step so that she looked rather like a newborn fawn trying to stay on its feet, albeit one with two legs, as she followed her partner, clad in a lounge suit and brogues, across the lobby towards the bar.

'Someone obviously didn't pay attention in ballet classes.' Sally grinned mischievously.

The girl was drooling freely around her gag and had left a trail of saliva across the polished tiles. As she passed I could see that the strap at the back of her vilisqaz supported her arms, keeping them in the small of her back and exposing her bottom. Her garment or, in this case perhaps the word restraint was appropriate, didn't seem to have a crotch strap and the back strap ended in a ring which held her butt plug on place.

'Eyes front, Mr Frost.' Sally pressed her finger to the side of my jaw directing me towards the check in desk.

The clerk at the desk had the typical complexion of a Mirkadian with sandy hair and a darkly freckled skin. He was welcoming enough but rather more reserved than I remembered he predecessor being. Nevertheless, he quickly broached the topic of whether we planned to visit Mirkada and, if so, whether we knew of the customs of the city. I told him we were fully aware but he went on to ask Sally the same question. Once again, he seemed unconvinced by her answer however, he did inform us that buses ran there daily and, if we wanted to ensure a place we would need to book.

This was another change. When we had last visited there were two buses a week.

He remained rather reserved until he checked our reservation on his register.

'You are friends of Councillor Silaxis ?'

We assured him we were and were soon on our way up to the Presidential Suite.

'We could stay here.' I had suggested as I sipped my complimentary champagne.

'And miss the chance to show that blonde bimbo how it's done properly.' Sally had flashed one of her dazzling smiles.

So there I was once again entering the bar of the Todos Mundo with Sally in full vilisqaz, leashed, collared, her arms sheathed, blindfolded, the large ball of her gag sitting between her white teeth, rouged lips stretched, saliva beading on them, about to spill over onto her chin and down onto her leather strapped breasts.

The first time we had done this, we had both been rather hesitant although, at the time, I could well understand Sally's reluctance. On this occasion she entered with the grace and confidence of a Mirkadian lady.

I spotted the blonde kneeling on a cushion, still looking somewhat uncomfortable in her vilisqaz. Her blindfold and gag had been remove but she knelt slightly hunched, not straight backed as Mirkadian women did and I saw the envy in her blue eyes as she watched Sally glide effortlessly past. Sally drew the eyes of the blonde's fully dressed partner too, a young man in his mid twenties who showed more than a passing interest in my beautiful and tightly restrained forty year old wife.

She doesn't walk like Rihanna, Sally is far sexier.

The bar was quite full but we were guided to a table where Sally knelt gracefully on the cushion placed there for her.

I ordered dhakaris and sat back in the comfortable armchair awaiting their arrival leaving Sally kneeling, blind and helpless beside me; she was, after all, still being punished for her deception over the incident with the vice chancellor and the vibrator.

As I looked around the room I spotted another European couple in which the wife had adopted Mirkadian dress. The woman was a brunette, probably in her early thirties from what I could see of her face and, judging by the age of her companion. He was wearing a wedding ring though, I suppose the woman might be his mistress.

Whatever their domestic arrangements, it was clear she was as comfortable as Sally in what I can only term her submission. Her vilisqaz was deep red and composed entirely of broad straps perhaps an inch and a half across; her mitted hands were locked to her collar and her elbows pulled firmly behind her. She had generous breasts with extremely large nipples which were pierced and hung with pendants that might have been rubies.

There was something about her posture and the slight blush on her skin suggesting that, like Sally, she was also enjoying being on public display half naked, leashed and in bondage. Despite clearly being there for some time, the woman was blindfolded and gagged, her drink untouched on table in front of her to which her leash was clipped. I watched the man sip his drink and then lean down, whispering something into his wife's ear. The woman nodded and he reached into his jacket.

A moment later the women jump slightly in her bonds setting her nipple pendants swinging.

At that moment our drinks arrived and I turned my attention to my own delightful submissive, removing her gag and holding her glass to her lips. I kept her blindfolded, though I did describe the room too her, updating her on my thoughts about the blonde and telling her about the brunette.

I saw Sally smile. 'So, what's she doing now ?'

I looked discretely across at the brunette to find my suspicions confirmed; her skin had become more flushed and I could see a sheen of sweat her chest; the nipple pendents were still swinging and her big nipples looked even bigger than before. Her breathing was rapid and she was drooling freely around her gag.

The man leaned in, again whispering something to his wife.

The brunette shook her head, quite vigourously, causing saliva to drip off the rings holding her gag and setting her nipple pendants swinging wildly.

A few other customers in the bar had noticed and were watching her discretely. I saw one slide a smart phone from his pocket and activate its camera but this was spotted by the waiter who politely asked him to put it away, though from the way he shook his head, I gathered he disapproved as much of what the brunette and her husband were doing as the attempt to film it.

'She's about to cum then is she ?' I heard Sally whisper discretely.

'Soon, I think.'

'Glad you're enjoying the show.' Sally's voice contained a hint of reproach.

I gave her another sip of her drink then slipped my hand into the ring of her collar and she turned her head up.

I kissed her gently on the lips.

'I hope you're not trying to get round me.' Sally licked her lips.

'It's you who need to get round me, you're the one being punished.'

'Yes, Master.' Sally's tone was slightly sarcastic.

She bowed her head and I looked back at the brunette. The woman was clearly close to orgasm, lost now in a world of her own, rocking slightly in her bonds, her nipple pendant's swinging wildly; she was drooling freely now as she panted around her gag.

Her husband leaned towards her again and again she shook her head, probably even more vigourously.

Then she stiffened, her head tipped back, breasts thrust forward, a small gasp escaping around her gag. After a few moment, I saw her husband reach into his jacket pocket again then gently stroke his wife's hair. She was panting hard, her large breasts in their latticework of straps rising and falling were soaked with saliva.

The man glanced around and then took another sip of his drink.

'Was that it ?' Sally asked quietly.

'Yes. I think so.'

'Hardly worth the effort.' Sally opined. 'What's happening now ?'

I looked back, the man was standing, somewhat awkwardly, presumably to cover his erection. I saw him unclip his wife's leash from the table and help her to her feet. She wobbled slightly but kept her balance then he lead her from the room.

'I think they've gone somewhere for a bit more privacy.'

'So are you going to make me cum in front of the assembled masses ?'

'Do you want me to.'

Sally grinned. 'Very tempting, Mr Frost, but I'm not in full holiday mode yet. Perhaps I'll do a floor show when we get back from Mirkada; afterall, I'll have to show off my new outfit.'

'You think I'm buying you a new vilisqaz ?' I was teasing her. I was hardly going to come all this way an not buy some new bondage gear.

'I'm counting on it.'

'You'll have to be a very good girl then.'

'Then why don't you take me back to the room and let me show you how much of a good girl I can be.'

The film crew picked us up after breakfast. Sally in vilisqaz though this was partly concealed beneath a flowing linen dress in a pastel red. She was not leashed or bound but she was collared and the split to the upper thigh and slits in the bodice showed the multiple straps buckled tightly around her slim toned body. She sashayed down the hotel steps in her toe-boots with the poise of a film star and slipped into the waiting car with a flash of pretty much everything from shoulder to ankle.

She certainly had shown me what a good girl she could be overnight, performing oral sex restrained and on her knees and, when I told her I expected her to swallow, much to my surprise she did just that.

The holiday magic was clearly starting to work.

However, we weren't here just for a holiday, we were here to make a film.

Much to our astonishment, the crew were both women.

Priya, who introduced herself as an investigative journalist and documentary producer was probably of northern Indian origin with very dark skin, high cheekbones, and firm lips; her dark, almost black hair was gathered behind her head into a long braid that hung to her buttocks. She was slim and pretty, even allowing for her rather prominent nose; she was also heavily made up and dressed: tight linen pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse with lacy bra underneath, short practical heels, bare legs.

Her film company seemed to have just one employee; Kirsty was camera girl, sound technician and gofer; she was shorter than her boss and more curvacious with ringlets of brown hair and soft brown eyes in a pretty, round face that became beautiful when she smiled. Like many in her role, her clothing was practical; a grey T-shirt and khaki gillette with multiple pockets, turn up shorts and walking boots.

'You do know where we're going ?' Sally was the first to address the obvious thorny issue after introductions were completed and we were working our way through the traffic which comprised a mix of shiny modern and extremely ancient cars, diesel trucks and ox carts; towards the main highway to Mirkada.

'Of course.' Priya sounded authoritative as she spoke. 'Dr Frost's notes were very thorough'

I beamed slightly at the compliment

'I did a mini-series on city states.' I told her.

'Yes, I know, I saw the end of one of the programmes.' Her tone told me not to ask what she thought of it.

'I was hoping to do an episode on Mirkada but the producer's weren't keen'

'I can see why.' Perhaps Priya had read my summary and prospective script.

'The history of Mirkada is very interesting.'

'Yes, I'm sure it is though I can't believe how repressed the women are.'

This made Sally sit up and take an interest. 'I'm not sure its as clear cut as that, perhaps you should spend a few days in the city before you make up your mind.'

'The woman have been kept on bondage since the middle ages; they're lead round half naked on leashes !' Priya was forceful in her arguement though, of course, we both knew that while the first part of the sentence was true it was only women visiting the city who had to be leashed, for locals it was optional but for women in full vilisqaz who were often blindfolded when taken out by their husbands it was something of a necessity.

'It is said to be a form of respect.' I told her. 'Initiated on the orders of the high priestess, Jashumin in the twelfth century.'

'Yes, I bet the city's elders were quick to support that.' Priya had clearly been thinking about all this. 'A very good way of imposing control on the women in society.'

'The city's elders at the time were mostly women.' I reminded her. 'I suspect they were more than happy not to have to labour in the fields.'

'But what about this vilithqaz ?' She asked, giving it what was thought to be the original Spanish pronouciation.

'That evolved from straps used to bind the women.' Sally had done her reading too. 'Over time the became more ornate.' She pulled her skirt back to show the straps around her legs.

'I'm surprised that an academic of your stature would fall for that.' Priya had done her research on us too. 'And, I must say, I'm surprised to see you actually wearing one.'

'It helps me to rest on holiday.' Sally informed her rather brusquely. 'I can hardly work in these shoes.'

Priya looked somewhat disdainful.

The discussion of Mirkadian history continued, however, we didn't argue further about bondage or the vilisqaz and didn't mention the obvious flaw in Priya and Kirsty's plans; we can't influence our own children so we weren't going to try with others'.

Sometimes it is important to make your own mistakes in life.

Our ride to city was a lot more comfortable in the airconditioned car.

After the initial exchange, Priya passed much of the journey in silence, cycling through her notes and her phone and her laptop

Though quieter at first, Kirsty subsequently appeared more talkative; she, had read my work a little quite widely and even seen a couple of my programmes; at this rate I thought, I might even reach double figures in the viewing tables.

She appeared excited to meet me and her lovely brown eyes flashed as he told me of

her aspirations to a travel writer. She had, she said, studied photography at university and then taken a postgraduate course in film.

'Anyone can write but it takes skill to use a camera properly.' She told me. 'I wanted to get that bit right.'

I wasn't sure I agreed with this having marked many student papers

She said she had seen Priya's post about setting up a film company and recalled their meeting one night in the student union bar. She had responded and rekindled their relationship.

'She wants to make something progressive and cutting edge; a short, hard hitting documentary...' Kirsty seemed keen to make this point clear and I thought it was very much a direct quote from Priya. Kirsty had seemed the sort of travel writer who would immerse herself in a culture for months at a time, live among people to write and photograph or film their stories rather than parachute in with a sheaf of notes and tight schedule; perhaps, I thought, this assignment was a means to an end; but then I noticed there was something in the way Kirsty looked at her companion which made me wonder if there wasn't a deeper loyalty.

A means to what end ?

I looked at Sally who was smiling as she looked out of the window at the arid countryside rolling past the window and recalled a quote she'd used in a recent lecture about youth being more ready to put loyalty before truth.

The highway was new and most of it was finished so it was a mere four hours before we could see Mirkada rising from the plains, imposing, with its walls and turrets. It was a marvellous sight and not only because of the memories it kindled.

As the car pulled up I was immediately taken back to my first visit by the line of tourists waiting for the bus, lingerie clad women, one with her wrists still cuffed behind her and one in a full vilisqaz standing elegantly beside her parter. They were different women of course and the line was longer than I remembered but I couldn't suppress the surge of excitement at seeing them. This time I made no attempt to hide my curiosity.

'Eyes front, Mr Frost.'

As before, there were no cars allowed in the city and we were dropped off by the gates, not far from the stalls selling their overpriced restraints to tourists.

The driver helped Kirsty unload her kit, while Priya went to the gate.

'Well, Mr Frost, would you do the honours'. Sally was clearly as excited as I was to be back and turned to present me with her arms behind her back.

'Dress on or off ?' I asked as we stepped into the shade next to the stall where I'd bought Sally's first monoglove. It was much as I remembered it though I didn't recall the mannequin fitted with a full vilisqaz. I was beginning to understand Salaxis' comments about there being more interest in the city and the burgeoning tourist industry.

'Dress off, of course.' Sally pulled the loose fitting dress over her head to reveal the full glory of her vilisqaz wrapped body.

I stowed the dress in our bag and pulled out the monoglove of her vilisqaz and spent the next few minutes enjoying the familiar task of restraining my lovely wife in full public view; then I leashed her and lead her back into the hot sun.

'I take it you don't need any more suncream ?' I had given her a very thorough coating after we had showered together in the hotel. Despite her lovely tan, the sun was very hot here and the straps of the vilisqaz would do little to protect her.

Priya strode towards us looking flustered. 'Bastards ! They won't let us in without restraints.'

Sally gave me a secret smile, turning slightly to show Priya her tightly secured arms and I gestured to the stalls selling restraints.

Fortunately, the authorities had graciously agreed to let the film crew go about without leashes though the thought of leading three women in bondage through the streets of the city did have its appeal.

'I need to be restrained.' Priya snapped at the stall holder who gestured to his wares then held up a monoglove similar to the one I'd first bought Sally.

Sally gave me another of her indulgent smiles, her eyes shining with pleasure. I wasn't sure if it was the memory of her first public bondage or Priya's situation, or perhaps even the journalist's choice of words.

'How much ?' Priya asked sharply.

The stall holder quoted a ludicrous price

'I'm not paying that much.'

The stall holder gestured to the other stalls across by the gate in the sun

Sally stood beside me, demure as ever, watching as Priya ungraciously bought two pairs of cheap metal handcuffs and we retreated into the shade of the walls as the journalist then held a brief discussion with Kirsty who set up her equipment for Priya to record her first impressions.

I watched, smiling, as she held up the cuffs giving full vent to her indignation.

Then the tourist bus arrived and my attention drifted to the vilisqaz clad woman mounting the steps with support from the crew and her husband.

We entered the city about an hour later, Priya and Kirsty suitably if rather primitively restrained though not leashed and emerged from the gateway into the market as we had before.

The thought of returning to Mirkada had excited me but not as much as actually entering the city, of entering the market, the press of bodies, enjoying the smells of spices, the sounds of the unfamiliar language, and if course, the excitement seeing once again the scantily clad and restrained women of the city...and all this with Sally following on a leash behind me.

My first impression was that nothing had changed but then I realised that there were indeed more tourists here, on our first visit we had seen perhaps two dozen, the same faces at the tourist sites: the palace and garden and the Monroe, the city's main hotel;

however, even as we entered the market I spotted perhaps a dozen people who were clearly not natives of the city, and then a couple of tall blondes walked past us speaking German, one was dressed in a loose fitting linen blouse and very short denim shorts and the other in a black bullet bra and matching knickers; both were restrained their hands cuffed behind their backs, though one, the girl in the lingerie wore a collar with a little padlock and was leashed, the loop of this hooked around the cuffed wrists of her partner, the girl in the blouse and shorts. Mirkada had, it seemed, reached a form of equality compatible with the end of the twentieth century even if it had not yet crossed into the new millennium. I wondered what the new governor might do about this state of affairs, I could hardly imagine him repealing the restraint laws and, I rather hoped he didn't as I watched a young couple, a man leading his wife, leashed and dressed in a vilisqaz, her arms pinned behind her back, not tightly, and in fact, by Sally's standards rather comfortably, held by the tips of what are best described as bondage sleeve in the small of her back; she seemed to be struggling slightly with the toe boots of her new outfit though not as much as the blonde in the hotel the previous night. She was gagged, with what looked very much like a big rubber plug and, I thought from her expression, seemed to be enjoying herself despite her awkwardness; I wondered which bit she enjoyed most, disporting herself in public, the bondage or whether her husband was perhaps teasing her with a vibrator. When her husband stopped to look as a stall selling leather wear she stood behind him, straightening slightly and I saw her rub her thighs together, looking round guiltily. A look of surprise crossed her face when she saw Sally and I watching her and she looked away quickly, her legs stilling; then, a moment later she looked back and smiled around her gag before turning away again and press her thighs together; then her husband turned away from the stall and, giving a little tug on her leash, lead her tottered through the market behind him.

I looked at Priya, finding her scowling and the she tried to shoulder her way through the press of bodies.

Sally and I stood back waiting to an opportunity to pass and within a few moments a passage was made for us. Kirsty followed, her attention torn between supervising the boys who she had employed to pull her equipment cart and her desire to gaze around her in wonder at the sights of a new place.

Priya pushed ahead, marching up the hill despite the heat and her heels and the fact that her arms were cuffed behind her back, walking, up the middle of the road in the full sun.

The boys helping to move Kirsty's camera kit on its trolley toiled beside us as we climbed the hill behind her towards the city's main square. Sally walked beside me, keeping to the shade, clearly as excited as I to be back in Mirkada, though not blindfolded she was, rather beautifully, I thought, gagged, her lips stretched around the large ball held in place by the red straps of her 'bridle'. Her nipple pendants were still in my pocket, we had agreed that this might be a little too much for Priya to take in at this stage. I had, of course, two other items in my pocket too, Sally's vibrator and her butt plug.

It was as we reached the city's main square that I caught my first glimpse of the vilisqaz in its full glory, a full dozen women strolling with complete ease despite the encumbrance of their clothing, arms pinned back, breasts thrust out, following their husbands who held parasols for them; all the women were blindfolded and gagged and, in the style of the city, they all wore nipple jewelry too, pendants clipped to their nipples that swung enticingly as they walked. Sally had assured me that, after the initial shock, the constant teasing this gives a woman's nipples is highly stimulating and, combined with the other 'accessories' of the vilisqaz, ensures the wearer has no cause to complain about her treatment.

We both knew understood the pleasures of a remote controlled vibrator.

The party appeared to be heading towards the Monroe ahead of us and I stood watching them as they crossed the square ahead of us. Despite my obvious interest there was no admonition from Sally though whether this was because of the gag or the fact that the leash had put her into a submissive mindset I couldn't tell; it might have been that, like me, because she was enjoying the display of tightly restrained semi-naked female bodies. I did notice her edge herself closer to me and was about to ask of she wanted to be fully restrained for the last walk across the square when, suddenly, one of the women stumbled on her precipitous heels, nearly falling; fortunately her husband caught her, steading her before leading her on. A couple of the men laughed and there seemed to be a little bit of teasing directed towards the young man guiding her who seemed rather embarrassed; as his comrades explained their amusement to their helpless, blindfolded wives

I watched them leave the square, the girl who had stumbled slightly behind the crowd;

she was slim and less well developed than her fellows, her husband appeared younger than his fellows and I wondered if the girl herself was also young, perhaps just eighteen and therefore newly admitted to the adult world where the city's rules on restraint would apply to her; certainly, her vilisqaz looked very new and it was a red one, red, the colour of passion Taiarche had told us, often chosen at the colour for a first viliisqaz. Hers was quite traditional in that it consisted entirely of straps, all quite narrow including the one that ran down between her lovely firm buttocks to disappear between her legs; her wrists were cuffed to her narrow waist and her elbows strapped together, actually touching, behind her; I noticed too that the belts were studded, making her whole body appear to sparkle in the bright sunlight.

I glanced at Priya and found her still scowling, standing now in the full sun of the square, as she watched the women disappear from sight; then she struggled briefly against her cuffs muttering something about this all being ridiculous before striding up to us to ask how far it was to the hotel.

Her face was red from the exertion of the climb and her previously neatly tamed hair was beginning to come adrift. She was sweating too, her blouse soaked and sticking to her skin showing the details of the lacy bra she wore beneath. She certainly had a nicely toned body and one that, I was sure, would look very fine in more stringent bondage.

My attention to these details presumably slowed my response to her question enough for Sally to notice and, as I directed the young journalist to follow the previous group, I felt a swift tap on the shin from Sally's toe boot and looked up to find a glare that seemed to say 'Eyes front, Mr Frost'. However, 'eyes front' on this occasion would have directed me to Priya's small, pert bottom, beautifully packaged in her tight pencil skirt as she strode away from us on her four inch heels.

It seemed that, while I was allowed to enjoy the sight of the local women displaying their bodies in bondage, I was expected to show some restraint around our colleagues.

'Do you want me to blindfold you for the last bit ?'

Sally shook her head as if to say 'How would I keep an eye on you if you did ?' The expression 'Kid in a candy store' came into my mind.

Fortunately, at that moment, the boys with Kirsty's kit arrived; the buxom little brunette following close behind breathless and rather more flushed than Priya had been. As she approached I tried not to look at the way her full breasts swung under her T-shirt as she walked; she was clearly braless and I got the distinct impression that her nipples were pierced.

'Wow !' Kirsty stood before us, catching her breath and looking up at the grand building dominating the square that was once the palace but now served as the governor's residence though much of it, including the gardens was open to visitors. 'This is an incredible place Dr Frost.' She looked at me and smiled. 'I can't believe I've never been here until now.'

She looked at Sally, squinting slightly in the sun, drinking in the beauty of my wife's blatantly displayed body.

'These vilisqaz are fab. I'm really hoping I get to try one on.'

Her nipples were definitely pierced, ringed if I wasn't mistaken and, I thought, rather more erect than they had been before although this might have been because of the wetness of her T-shirt.

I smiled at her. 'Shall we go to the hotel ?'

'Yes, of course, Doctor.' Kirsty turned away and followed Priya across the square apparently unconcerned about her bondage.

There was no way of keeping to the shade and, without access to a parasol, I was forced to lead Sally into to full heat of the sun. I saw her smile around her gag as she followed me. I noticed she was walking slightly differently, presumably trying to emulate the effortless grace of the women who had preceded her.

After the heat of the square, the airconditioned foyer of the Monroe enveloped us with a welcome coolness. As we entered, Priya was already at the desk where a gracious concierge had just relieved her of her cuffs. I saw her rub her wrists, the scowl apparently to remain a permanent fixture on her face.

Sally stood beside me, enjoying cool air, her skin still flushed, clearly in no hurry to be relieved of her restraints or her gag.

I should probably have offered to assist Priya in booking into our rooms but I was content to give her this dignity, reestablishing perhaps a little of what she might feel was her lost authority. Deferring to her also gave me an opportunity to enjoy the moment of our return to the Monroe.

Looking round I could see the party that had entered a few minutes before us, the men seated at tables, their wives kneeling on cushions beside them. The women's gags and blindfolds were being removed as waiters brought wine and canapes. The conversation was already animated with those still gagged clearly chomping at the bit to join in. The girl who had stumbled appeared as young as I had predicted and, from her smile had clearly recovered from her trip even though she was apparently enduring a degree of teasing about it.

I noticed that, while most of her companions were clearly local with their fair or strawberry blonde hair and freckled skin, two of the women were brunettes and while one seemed entirely at home with the conversation the other, younger, was clearly new to the city and spoke haltingly in the local language. I watched her shift slightly awkwardly on her knees, her nipple pendants swinging as she looked round at the other women and tried to emulate their position. Finally, she managed to settle and I saw her partner stroke her hair affectionately; the girl turned and smiled up at him.

I turned back to see Sally being offered a cushion, watching as she dropped to her knees, wobbling only slightly. She clearly needed a little more practice at this particular manoeuvre in bondage and toe boots.

Glancing around the lobby, I could see a number of tourists, many I noted with pleasure taking the 'vintiage lingerie' approach to dress that the guidebooks recommended. This was a change to my previous experience where most visitors, even if they had chosen to adopt such dress outside the hotel, had worn more usual 'western' style clothing in the seclusion of the hotel lobby; a number I noticed were restrained, mostly in simple cuffs though one sported a monoglove and two wore 'bondage sleeves' clipped together behind their backs. A couple were bare breasted and one of these wore nipple pendants. Most were collared too, though only a handful were leashed to the table as was traditional; all of them seemed happy to accept the offer of food and drink handed to them by their partners.

There were also three women, clearly tourists, in the vilisqaz, one kneeling in the full outfit, gag and blindfold included, while her husband sipped his drink.

I spotted Kirsty, loitering by the entrance, still cuffed,

She had supervised the transfer of her camera equipment into to lobby and seemed anxious not to abandon it though I suspected there was little chance of it being stolen in Mirkada. My understanding was that there was virtually no crime in the city. The camera girl was looking at a series of pictures on the wall, a small collection of street photography, apparently taken in the city itself; she leaned in to scrutinise the details and then back to enjoy the images as whole.

She seemed entirely to have forgotten that she was cuffed

One of the younger concierges approached her with a cushion and I watched her look of surprise become one of her radiant smiles and she politely refused the offer.

'Is this a Bresson ?' She did her best to indicated the picture with her shoulder.

'Yes, Madam.' The concierge was attentive and I guessed he wouldn't be the first young man to have be ensnared by a flash of Kirsty's smile. 'He visited here in the late sixties. These are his memories of the city.'

Cartier-Bresson had certainly seized the moment, two women in full vilisqaz, leashed, passing, their husbands turned to regard each other's wife; the photo was, I am sure, unstaged though the symmetry of the image and the men's expressions was striking.

In another, a young woman kneeling on a cushion, blindfolded took a sip from a glass offered to her, the coolness of the glass heavy with condensation was the antithesis of the girl's flushed face.

There was also an image that may have been a wedding, the groom collaring his bride to complete her ties to him, the faces of their guests turned to witness the moment just as the camera did; another showed what could only be the fitting of a first vilisqaz, it showed only the woman's face, the context being set by the shelves and stands behind, but her expression suggested to me the process was nearing its end and the more intimate accessories of the garment were being applied.

There were others' photographs too; I hadn't noticed them on our first visit but then I was perhaps a little distracted. Leaving Sally to her cushion, I went to take a closer look.

'Is that Marilyn ?' Kirsty again leant towards a photo.

'Yes, shot by David Bailey on his visit here in nineteen-sixty.'

Marilyn wore classic lingerie, a tight corset, bullet bra, full knickers and stockings, there was no need of ventilation duct to expose her this time; the image was black and white but the lingerie looked as if it might be in a flesh tone or raw silk, it was clear her arms were sheathed her breasts thrust forward that unmistakable smiling pout on her rouged lips, she was leashed, collared, a man stood beside her, suited, dark haired, his back to the camera; he held her leash.

'It must have been right at the start of his career with Vogue.'

'Indeed madam.'

'And he came here to shoot Marilyn.'

The concierge smiled, 'Yes madam. She and her friend were a special guests here shortly after the hotel was refurbished and, of course, she gave us our name. She refused the valisqaz but her choice of apparel and these photographs established the trend for visiting women to dress as they still do now.'


3) ON LOCATION

We reconvened in the bar for lunch, Sally still in her vilisqaz though, to make Priya and Kirsty feel more comfortable she had asked me to release her arms so she was able to feed herself.

Priya had an appointment with Salaxis that afternoon though clearly didn't relish the prospect of having to go to his office cuffed. I managed to refrain from offering to guide her there on a leash.

Kirsty was keen to scout for locations and conversely, didn't seem the slightest bit concerned at having to do this in bondage even though her wrists were chafed red and already bruised from the cheap cuffs. Sally quickly offered to go with her and I wondered briefly if this might be something to do with Kirsty's quick smile and obvious interest in my work.

'Oh, Dr Frost, I've read all your work...' Sally had teased, pouting and shaking her breasts at me in a pretty fair imitation of the perky little brunette with the enchanting smile.

I reassured myself that Sally was not the jealous kind and was probably much happier to spend the afternoon reacquainting herself with the beautiful architecture of the city with a girl who appeared to share at least one other common interest than in a rather tedious meeting.

So it was that an hour later I resheathed Sally's arms and cuffed Kirsty to allow them to venture out onto the street. I tucked a copy of the papers allowing them to go unleashed into one of Kirsty's pockets and responded to Sally's glare with a comment that she didn't really have anywhere she could carry it.

'Well, get it over with.' Priya stood with her back to me, wrists together so I could once again cuff them

I opened the door to let her out and lead her towards Salaxis' office in the streets behind the governor's building.

I was enjoying a very cold beer in the hotel bar when Sally and Kirsty returned.

Kirsty, I noticed wearing a reasonably comfortable pair of leather cuffs and, when Sally knelt beside me on a cushion, Kirsty simply copied her so I had the pleasure of two women, both beautiful in their own way, kneeling at my feet.

Sally gave me slightly knowing look as I ordered G&Ts for them and a second beer for myself. She might have been telling me not the enjoy this situation too much or, perhaps, if I was lucky, her unvoiced comment was 'wait until I get you upstairs'.

Whatever she meant, I was not concerned, I'd had a pleasant chat with Salaxis while Priya had been off sorting out her various permits to film in the city. The journalist had, not surprisingly, spent sometime trying to convince the councilor that she should be allowed to go about unrestrained but he had been firm about what he described as the important traditions of the city, reminding her that submitting to Mirkada's rules might better help her understand them.

I will openly confess now to a degree of schadenfreude.

So, I was throughly pleased with myself as the two girls, I'm sure Sally would not complain at my use of the noun, knelt at my feet and Kirsty, excited and by her afternoon of discovery, recounted their adventures including, it seemed, a visit to a local clothing shop where she had seen first hand the raw materials of the vilisqaz and where she had bought the cuffs.

Fortified by her drink which she took rather too quickly via a straw she was soon effusing loudly about the architecture, the history and the people of Mirkada whom she said had all been very courteous: directing them opening doors and generally aiding her and Sally in every way as they had explored the city.

She had seen, she thought, one of the locations in the Cartier-Bresson photos in the hotel lobby.

She had been thinking of how she might direct filming with her wrists cuffed and of some of the angles she wished to use. This was, she said, a great opportunity to develop her skills and I wondered if that was the real reason for her throwing her lot in with Priya.

You are becoming an old lech Sally told me as we prepared for dinner.

We had showered and I was once again dressing Sally in her vilisqaz.

I smiled at the thought of Kirsty walking rather unsteadily towards the lift with her wrists still cuffed behind her after three gins.

'If that girl buys herself a vilisqaz or starts wearing lingerie you're going to be the one on a leash.'

I grinned at the idea.

'I can see you're thinking about it now.' Sally gave me a well aimed kick in the shin with one of her toe boots.

I could hardly deny it.

'Are you sure you're happy to wear the bridle ?' I tightened the first shoulder strap and tucked the end into the buckle.

'Stop changing the subject or I'll kick you again.' There was humour in her voice. 'Yes, I think it's time we gave prissy Priya a show of the full rig. Part of me wishes I'd be able to see her reaction but I'll have to rely on you to fill me in afterwards.'

'You could just wear the gag like you did this morning.' I tightened the second shoulder strap.

'No, I want to give it the full effect.' Sally chuckled. 'Mind you, you are going to have to buy me another one, the full outfit I mean, I can't wear the same thing every day.' She paused. 'Perhaps you'd better get me two.'

'You've only been made professor, not chancellor.' I picked up her bridle.

'Who said I'm paying ? You're the one with the lucrative TV contract. I'm just here as eye candy and to stop you making a fool of yourself with that pretty young camerawoman' She laughed again. 'I think I'll have a white one this time with arm straps and mitts.'

'I've noticed they're being worn somewhat briefer this year.' I stepped back as Sally foot swung towards me.

'I bet you have.' Sally licked her lips as she often did before being gagged. 'Just keep your mind on the job and don't forget my nipple pendants.'

She opened her mouth.

'Yes, Mistress.' I grinned and pushed the ball between her teeth before stepping behind her to secure the bridle.

'If you're a good girl I'll make sure I mention the butt plug too.'

Sally laughed round her gag as I fixed the blindfold in place.

Then, with my wife helpless and restrained I spent a few minutes ensuring her nipples were prepared for the pendants before attaching them and, when I was ready, I clipped her leash to her collar and lead her out into the hallway.

I knew she was excited, I could see it in the way she walked and, once in the lift, I reached into my pocket for the remote to her vibrator enjoying the sound of her gasp as I flicked it on.

The vibrator was still buzzing and Sally in response panting as we emerged from the lift.

Unfortunately, despite our careful plan to shock Priya, she and Kirsty were not waiting in the lobby as we'd expected. We waited some ten minutes and then called up to their rooms but got no answer.

'Where could they have gone ?'

Helpless and gagged, Sally simply shrugged so I lead her out into the street towards the restaurant we had booked for dinner.

We were enjoying breakfast when I received the message.

I had just given Sally a sip of coffee and was about to drink my own when a polite cough made me look up.

The girls it seemed had been arrested for walking the streets of Mirkada unrestrained

and I was asked to attend the police station.

Sally looked as alarmed as I felt and we were instantly on our feet but the concierge bade us to sit down, it was still early, just gone eight in the morning and the police station would not be open until ten.

There was, thus, no need to hurry our breakfast but, I was asked to arrive at the station some time before noon to arrange their release.

'Sure you don't want to rush off to rescue your little damsel in distress ?' Sally chided as I forced myself to take a sip of coffee.

'Sure you don't want to sit there until lunchtime and let Little Miss Prissy sweat it out ?' I countered and Sally laughed. I wondered if she was thinking about Priya chained in dungeon in rather more bondage than a simple pair of handcuffs.

'Not really.' A smile crossed Sally's face. 'But if we do have a couple of hours to kill and you've finished eating, perhaps, we could go up to the room and, well, find something to pass the time. After all, it's not as if I can stop you doing anything to me is it ?'

'You really want us to enjoy ourselves with our young colleagues languishing in prison.' I did my best to adopt the moral high ground.

Sally smiled coyly.

'You're a very naughty girl.'

'I thought you might say that.' Sally's smile broadened as she leaned in towards me. 'But before you spank me, I'd like to plead mitigation.'

'Really ?' I looked at her as sternly as I could.

'Yes.' She whispered in my ear. 'Can you remember what you did getting into the lift last night ?'

'I...' I looked at her. 'Oh !'

'Oh, indeed.' Sally kissed me somewhat salaciously. 'You did it this morning too...and it's been running right through breakfast.'

With two hours to enjoy my wife fully restrained and her very much in the mood after an hour of kneeling at my feet in bondage being fed breakfast while subject to constant internal stimulation I planned to make a point of taking things slowly.

Contrary to much of what you read, it's quite difficult to make a woman beg. My experience, which is not extensive and rather limited in terms of partner for the last twenty one years, is that women enjoy sexual arousal almost as much as they enjoy orgasm and that, rather than being a means to an end, foreplay is a very important part of sex to them.

It certainly is to Sally, though I have seen (and heard) her have some pretty intense orgasms over the years, some of which have been quite prolonged and left me feeling rather jealous.

Once or twice since we've been playing with bondage I have got her to the state where she really, really wants to cum and I'm trying not to let her but as yet, I have not actually had the pleasure of hearing her beg though a few times she has coyly asked 'Master, may I cum now ?'

She was, however, pretty horny by the time I got her to the bedroom and by the time I'd closed the door behind us, was already on her knees trying to undo my belt with her teeth.

It didn't take her long to get to the part of me she was after and, when she did, she took it into her mouth with the skills one might expect from a whore specialising in French polishing as it was called when we were younger.

I enjoyed upwards of twenty minutes oral pleasure, initially where I stood and then on the bed with Sally's ankles restrained and her legs pulled up in a hogtie. She clearly enjoyed this and, I think, rather enjoyed having the vibrator switched on and off as she worked.

My cock was drooling freely into her mouth and I was very close to orgasm when she finally groaned and gasped something that might have been a 'please' when I turned the vibrator off.

It was difficult to be certain with my cock pressing so firmly against her tongue but it was enough to send me over the edge and I had the pleasure of having her swallow for the second time in the holiday.

After that, I put her bridle on and, lifting her to the floor, left her to it with the vibrator at full power, watching as she squirmed in pure ecstasy, rubbing her pussy on the carpet and rocking back and forth straining at her bonds for another ten minutes before jerking violently and gasping around her gag with a noise that I thought, had she done it at night, might have other guests banging on the wall.

I sat watching her for several minutes as she lay on her side panting and then I removed her gag.

'God, that was fabulous.' Was the first thing she gasped as I too out her gag.

'It would make a great floor show at the Todos Mundo.' I teased.

'Perhaps you could make sure I have a couple more chances to rehearse before we get back there.' She grinned up at me.

'Want me to untie you.'

'No, I bloody don't.' She squirmed again, enjoying her bondage. 'Though you could untie my legs.'

'Are you getting stiff ?'

'No, but I bet you are and I can't do anything about it with my legs tied together.'

'Oh, I don't know, you're not gagged any more.'

'Not a chance, big boy !' She grinned. 'I only swallow once a day and only on holiday.'

After our antics in the bedroom which subsequently necessitated a shower, almost leading to further dalliance, it was gone ten thirty when we arrived at the police station, a low stone building not far from Salaxis' office.

Leaving the girls to languish in a foreign prison for so long may seem harsh but, knowing the respect with which Mirkadian's treat their women I felt confident that they would not be harmed and rather hoped it might be an important lesson in Priya's education as I suspected it was her that had instigated the misadventure

Even when we did arrive, it took some time before I was admitted to the cells, having left Sally kneeling demurely in the outer office in full Mirkadian regalia. We had decided that, although having two of us to support them might be nice for the girls, the appearance of Sally in full vilisqaz complete with blindfold, gag and nipple pendants might present the police with image of respectable law abiding visitors to the city.

Despite my faith in Mirkadian society I was surprised to be confronted by the sight of both girls naked and kneeling in a cell that was some twelve feet across; their prison had a back wall with a barred window but was otherwise composed of heavy steel bars so that it looked rather like something a sheriff might preside over in a cowboy movie

The girls had, I learnt been there all night having been picked up shortly after leaving the hotel.

Despite the heavy bars, both of them were chained, their wrists cuffed to chains locked around their waists and a steel bar was pushed behind their backs forcing their elbows back with chains at either end linked to their heavy steel collars to keep them there; each girl's ankles were cuffed too and their collars locked to a ring in the floor by a steel chain. Any one of the restraints or, indeed the cell itself, would have held them and I wondered if the guards were making a point unless, putting them on display like this was for other, more base, reasons.

The position certainly displayed them sexually and left them with no way to conceal themselves and though Priya knelt with her knees pressed firmly together there was nothing she could do to hide her small neat breasts with their rather full dark brown, almost black nipples. She was, not surprisingly, sullen and angry and, I think, had been crying; her make up was smudged and her hair in disarray.

In a way, I was quite glad she was gagged.

Kirsty on the other hand knelt calmly, legs spread and with her delightfully full breasts thrust out before her; I had been right about her nipples which were both pierced with large gold rings; she smiled at me despite her predicament. I thought I could see something in her expression that told me she knew I would be able to get her out.

She was not gagged which suggested perhaps she had not been quite so difficult as Priya.

'They are very bad sir, very bad indeed.' The guard's English was poor compered to many of the citizens and officials we have encountered. I still felt rather ashamed at my failure to learn anything of the local language although, there wasn't really much material available from which to learn it.

'Yes, I'm sorry.' I tried to convey my disappointment in them.

'They will be needing to stand trial, Doctor Frost.'

'Yes, but must they stay here until then ?'

'Authorisation from the council will be required for releasing them.'

I phoned Salaxis. I had tried his number earlier but to my surprise he had not answered. Surely, I thought, he must know why I was calling him. Again he didn't answer so I called his office to be told he was in a meeting and thus unavailable until about 3pm

The two prisoners looked at me expectantly as I completed the call.

Their responses when I told them the outcome were rather different: Priya shouting what were probably obscenities loudly through her gag and struggling in her bonds while Kirsty shrugged calmly, tossing her head and shifting position slightly in her bonds and, in the process, shaking her large breasts.

'I'm sure you'll sort it out Dr Frost.' Kirsty's faith was touching. 'We have everything we need here.' She turned glancing around her cell, her breasts following as did so before bending to lap some water from the bowl that was placed on the floor in front of her, an action which earned her a disgusted look from her cellmate.

There was little I could do other than promising to return at three.

On should always try to behave like a gentlemen but there are times when one must also be a pragmatist.

I thus left the two girls in their chains and took Sally for lunch.

I did eventually get the girls out though it was a little after 4pm. They had been in chains for over eighteen hours and, though Priya registered Sally's state of undress and bondage when I collected her from the police office, she was rather too preoccupied to react, something I was sure would disappoint the lovely Mrs Frost. Unfortunately, Priya's blouse and skirt had, somehow, been lost so she was forced to walk back to the hotel in her underwear, a rather brief purple thong and matching underwired bra, as well as her heels; the police had kindly provided me with a couple of pieces of rope to bind the girl's wrists for the short walk to the hotel.

Kirsty had, it seemed, been rather more fortunate, in that she emerged from the cells in a rather nicely fitted cotton dress that suggested a certain attention to detail in the 'foundation' garments beneath it. She stood with a half smile playing on her face while she waited for me to bind her wrists and even suggested it might be sensible to tie a rope around her neck to use as a leash and prevent any misunderstanding.

They were due in court on Friday, three days hence and, as well as paying their bail, I had been forced to sign a declaration a that I would ensure they attended. Leaving the city discretely was not an option.

Delivering them to court was something I had no intention of reneging on, I certainly didn't want to end up chained and naked in a police cell; I didn't mind doing it with Sally but that was something for us in the bedroom.

Priya was loud and critical as we walked back to the hotel, ranting against the injustice of it all but Kirsty was strangely quiet; perhaps she was tired, I reasoned, or perhaps she had finally succumbed to her fears now she was actually free.

Eyebrows were definitely raised as we entered the hotel though most eyes followed Priya as she stomped across the lobby, disheveled and clad only in her skimpy underwear before disappearing into the lift.

I turned to Kirsty. 'Are you alright ?'

For once I did not feel the glare of Sally's gaze burning through her blindfold.

The little brunette looked up at me and then looked down, I could see tears welling up in her eyes

'I'm sorry, Dr Frost.'

Typical for an English male, I had no real idea why this young woman was crying now or exactly what she was apologising for; I glanced at Sally for some support but while she could clearly hear and probably imagine what was going on, she wasn't in any position to advise me.

I was on my own.

Life, I thought, is generally easier when women our chained and gagged. I applauded the forefathers of Mirkada and their wise decisions.

However, Kirsty was upset and needed consoling and though her wrists were still bound behind her back I could hardly walk away; so I reached out and, rather awkwardly gave her a hug hoping that the pressure of her voluptuous body wouldn't cause any reactions inside me that might make the embrace even more awkward.

It did but she didn't seem to notice.

I felt her sob, and she pressed herself against me and squeezed her gently in my arms.

After a few moments she pulled away shaking her head and forcing a smile.

'I won't let you down again, Dr Frost.' There were tears on her cheeks and I wiped them away with my thumb

'We all do foolish things sometimes.' I smiled as reassuringly as I could. My elder daughter is a little younger than Kirsty and I've had to bail her out of awkward situations a few times though, as far as I was aware she'd never been arrested. This sort of stuff was, I reasoned, all part of life and, probably for a travel writer, going to be something of an occupational hazard.

I must have said the right thing because when I suggested we should eat in the hotel that evening Kirsty grinned.

'No chance.' She said. 'I haven't eaten properly for twenty four hours and you promised to take us out. We'll meet you in the lobby at seven thirty.'

This seemed not unlike the response I have got from my daughter once she knew she was safe and I wasn't going to tell her mother.

'We ?' I asked looking towards the lift which Priya had taken a few minutes earlier.

'Well, I'll do my best.' Kirsty turned her back and presented her wrists. 'Would you mind ?'

I released her.

'Thank you.' Kirsty rubbed her wrists then reached up and gave me a peck on the cheek before heading off for the lift.

'I'm soooo sorry, Dr Frost.' Sally was once again doing a passable impression of Kirsty, as she pressed herself against me in what she perhaps thought was a re-enactment of what had happened in the hotel lobby.

'It wasn't like that at all.' I held her shoulders and tried to kiss her but she puled back.

'Really ?' Sally looked skeptical and I reflected that switching on her vibrator in the lift then pushing her back on the bed and giving her little choice about a swift bout of sex before dinner as she lay there still blindfolded and gagged with her legs spread and her sheathed arms pinned beneath her might have given the impression that my brief encounter with Kirsty had left me quite randy.

Perhaps it had.

'I've been suuuuch a naughty girl, Dr Frost.' Sally slipped her hands behind her back and thrust her breasts out dancing just out of my reach and, deliciously, naked. 'Really, really naughty...' She advanced on me and I took a step back. 'So naughty that I'm expecting you to put me over your knee and spank me until my cheeks are red...'

I was backed up against the wall with Sally's body pressed against mine.

I couldn't hide the fact I was enjoying this.

'Then, you can turn me over play with my lovely big breasts...' Sally lifted her own impressive chest with her hands. 'Perhaps you'd like to put your fingers through my nipple rings.'

I wondered how she knew with such certainty.

'You, Mrs Frost...' It was time to repost.

'Professor Frost...' Sally interrupted

'You, Professor Frost' I acknowledged her correction. 'Are heading for a spanking yourself.'

'Am I now ?' Sally reached down and squeezed my balls. 'I'm not sure I am, you know'

Suddenly, I wasn't sure either.

She pushed me firmly against the wall.

'You've been rather selfish today if I may say so.' Her smile suggested she didn't mind that much. 'You've kept me in bondage all day, blindfolded and gagged for most of it, and wearing those nipple pendants and you've just taken advantage of me, virtually raped me, in fact, when I was quite unable to resist your advances.' She was gently squeezing my balls gently as she spoke. 'And all this after I was so accommodating this morning.' She licked her lips. 'What's more, you've also been desporting with known criminals; naked helpless and rather pretty criminals I might add...'

I guess I must have mentioned about them being naked and chained over lunch.

'You, Dr Frost, are the one about to be roundly spanked'

'And if I refuse ?' It was hardly likely I would.

'If you refuse, I will go and get Priya and Kirsty and the three of us will go out into the square and dance around until we're all arrested and we all end up in prison, including you.'

I did wonder how she would get Priya outside but it wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

She tightened her fingers still around my balls and pulled gently; I followed meekly and, when she told me to I lay across her knees and let her spank me.

In comparison to its predecessor, the following day passed without incident.

Well, there was only one.

Sally and I were having breakfast. She was dressed this morning in some rather fine vintage style lingerie having sponged down her vilisqaz which was still partly damp with sweat from the morning before. She had thus dressed in a cream bullet bra, waspie and deep knickers, she wore stockings too.

I really wasn't sure which I preferred, this or the vilisqaz.

She was, of course, restrained, her arms sheathed in the monoglove I had bought her on our first visit to Mirkada

I was just offering her a sip of orange juice when Kirsty walked in.

The young brunette was wearing a pale pink girdle that lifted and shaped her large breasts, apparently offering them up for inspection to anyone passing; the girdle nipped her waist quite flatteringly and came down to the tops of her thighs which were, like Sally's, packaged in sheer silk stockings supported by at least eight suspenders; she was wearing heels too, though only about three inches.

Somehow she had managed to cuff her wrists in the leather cuffs she had bought while out with Sally.

Which explains how I came to spill orange juice down Sally's breasts and belly.

I guessed another spanking was probably on the cards.

I can't say I really minded.

My fate was sealed when when Kirsty tried to settle herself on a cushion and overbalanced falling conveniently into my lap.

I helped her onto the cushion watched by Sally.

Kirsty spent most of breakfast apologising, both for her tumble and for the trouble she had caused the previous day. She had, she said, wanted to go out in her lingerie and cuffs but Priya had insisted she put the dress on and not wear cuffs. They had barely got across the square before they were challenged.

'I've never been arrested before.' Her dark eyes flashed. 'It was quite an experience.'

'And what do you think about the possibility of being whipped through the streets or put on public display naked ?' Sally didn't quite approve of the girl's sense of adventure but Kirsty just grinned and shrugged.

'I've probably had worse in the bedroom.' She confided.

I almost spilt a second glass of orange juice.

After taking Sally back to the room for a change of lingerie we headed out. Priya, it was fair to say, had still not embraced Mirkada's customs with the same enthusiasm as her companion, presenting herself in a tight linen sleeveless dress and pink heels though she did bring her handcuffs with her and allowed me to use them on her before we left the hotel.

As a result of the incident involving the police we were a day behind with shooting and this second day had been allocated to interview the citizens of Mirkada.

Salaxis had agreed to provide a guide and interpreter who met us at the entrance to our hotel. He spoke with an Oxford accent, laughing when he introduced himself as Salaxis' son, Briga, the 'thick one' he said who was unable to get into Cambridge like his father and sisters had done and thus had to settle for an Oxford education.

I wonder what he told the Oxford professors who visited Mirkada.

He was a young man, handsome, I suspect, with the dark thick hair of his mother and blue eyes of his father. He wore sunglasses and a very well fitted Italian silk suit.

To add to his family's disappointment he had, he told us, read law. 'So...' He smiled as he informed us. 'If the young ladies who have upset the authorities require counsel I am able to provide it.'

This made some sense; Salaxis had been rather distancing himself from the affair and yet presumably had an interest in resolving it quickly.

Briga regarded Priya intently as she introduced herself, his eyes roaming across her slim form taking in her dark eyes and slender figure; the way her bondage made her push her little breasts forward; she was certainly an attractive woman and, with her wrists cuffed, extremely appealing. Despite what might be described as feminist views on the expectations of women in Mirkada, I thought I saw Priya push her chest out a little further as Briga looked at her.

I saw Kirsty roll her eyes.

However, Briga's attention was not just directed at our journalist and when he turned to us he smiled

'And which of you beautiful girls is Professor Frost'

I guessed, Briga wasn't married but thought he probably had no shortage of prospective partners.

Sally and Kirsty looked at each other, they were indeed a beautiful pair, dressed similarly in girdles and stockings, both with their arms restrained behind their backs; though in other ways they were completely different, Sally tall and slender, elegant, assured despite standing there in her lingerie, Kirsty small and curvacious, the term 'bubbly' sprang to mind.

Kirsty inclined her head towards Sally. 'Esgba, es Professor Frost, Briga Salig.' Salig was the Mirkadian equivalent of 'Mr' though, I gathered, rather more polite and deferential. I assumed the rest was Mirkadian and Briga seemed to understand. Kirsty had obviously been doing more than reading Mirkadian history and, again, I felt ashamed at my own lack of Mirkadian. As she spoke, Kirsty gave a little curtsy, sweeping her right leg behind her left and offering a superb view of her cleavage.

Clearly Priya wasn't the only one who knew how to flirt and I wondered what her response might be if she had seen the gesture rather than been fiddling with the cuffs that held her wrists and trying to blow a stray hair from her face.

Sally's response was predictable when she noticed me enjoying the blatant flirtation though, in my defense, Briga's eyes were drawn in the same way as mine to the wonderful display of creamy flesh.

I prepared for another spanking.

'Malagia.' Briga gave her a formal greeting in reply though his delight at her use of his native tongue was obvious. 'Sula Barker, I assume.' He smiled. 'One of the visitors who has been sampling all aspects of Mirkadian hospitality. I am glad to see you are suitably accessorised today and must compliment you on your choice of garments.'

Kirsty blushed as Briga continued.

'You are not the first and will doubtless not be the last to flout our laws. There has been quite a rise in the crime rate recently. Mirkada is attracting more visitors who may not fully understand our...culture...though I am not naive enough to miss that some who come here have unusual...lifestyle preferences. Perhaps for them being imprisoned and publicly humiliated is all part of the holiday experience. Perhaps that is the subject for a second documentary film.'

I looked at Sally who winked.

'Shall we ?' Briga gestured out into the square.

Briga had brought two of his father's servants to manage the equipment, so we strolled ahead like colonial explorers followed by our baggage train. Off the leash, Sally walked with Kirsty and the pair were soon deep in conversation. I could not believe that my wife could truly be jealous of the young camera-woman's apparent attachment to me. If she did, I suspect she wouldn't have been so open in her discussion of the subject and her current engagement with the girl didn't convey any suggestion of aloofness or intimidation.

I was beginning to realise that Kirsty probably had similarly 'unusual lifestyle preference'.

Priya for once didn't set herself apart, she seemed content to walk beside Briga, walking with her head up and shoulders back, and her hands clasping her long braid in what was, I thought a delightful bondage affectation.

She was, when she chose to be, quite elegant and, in any other situation, the raw linen sleeveless dress would have been the ideal attire for a tour of a foreign city. From what I heard of her conversation with Briga, she asked quite detailed and probing questions confirming my opinion that she had certainly read my notes and probably a few other sources too. Briga it seemed had a sound grasp of the city's history too even for an Oxford trained lawyer rather than a classicist like the rest of his kin; his responses were detailed and insightful.

I was amused to hear Priya give him the full benefit of her opinions on what she described as female oppression, tossing her head in attempt to shake stray hairs free of her face when she became animated, and the two had a lively discussion which was later repeated on camera with, interestingly, Priya insisting on doing the interview in the street where she was, of course, cuffed.

Briga defended his culture forcefully citing, as well as a willingness to continue traditions by both sexes; the low crime rate and almost complete absence of assaults on women in the city; the crime of rape was, he said, almost unheard of in Mirkada and the last man to be convicted had been a foreign tourist.

Priya remained unconvinced and argued about the exclusion of women from the workforce. This, Briga said, was an issue and that a number of women, particularly those who had been educated abroad, were beginning to insist on entering the workplace. As yet, they were still excluded from manual labour but there were a few working in government offices, teaching in the city's college and, in particular one who had just been appointed the judiciary.

'And does this judge,' Priya asked pointedly, 'Have to be lead to work by a man.'

'As a citizen she can move freely on the streets as you are permitted to do.' Briga was firm but not forceful. 'However, when she attended the reception organised at the governor's residence to mark her inauguration she had arrived in full Vilisqaz.' He emphasised the word 'full'.

As this debate continued through the day I found myself revising my opinion of Priya. She might have come across as somewhat dismissive in the past two days but in her professional role she was clearly a woman with a sharp mind and forthright opinions.

I noted she still used the steel cuffs and that her wrists were now quite chaffed and bruised, exacerbated no doubt by her night in chains in the police cell. I couldn't help wondering again why she had chosen to come here; unlike Kirsty she seemed to have no interest in bondage; perhaps, I reasoned, in a competitive media market she had to take what she could get.


4) FILMING

Briga lead us first to the 'old quarter'. This was the poorer part of Mirkada where the streets were narrow and twisting, buildings almost touching above our heads. We had strolled through the area briefly on our first visit enjoying the surprises of hidden facades and alleyways disappearing into cool blackness.

The men here all wore traditional robes and the women were in the typical strap like garments of the city, leather belts and thongs wound about their bodies and limbs, all the women were, of course restrained, most simply with their wrists tied behind their backs or pinned in simple leather cuffs; the garments were, Briga told us, originally more adornments than clothing, in a time when there was little, a scrap of leather, perhaps supporting a shiny stone, tied around a neck or wrist was all that could be afforded; as time went on, more straps were added; Mirkada was, he reminded us, a place where women were seen as things of beauty to be displayed; women traditionally did not work but were waited on by their men, adored, respected.

Priya scoffed slightly as he concluded his explanation, surely, she countered, not for the first time, being kept in bondage was a sign of subjugation.

Briga shrugged and smiled. 'Why don't we find out ?

The servants set up Kirsty's gear on the edge of a small market square, the stalls looked similar to the ones by the gate through which we entered the city but on closer inspection were less well appointed, the fruit less perfect. It was mid morning and the market was full, a press of bodies, mostly women out alone but there were some clearly in the company of men; most such women were not leashed though a few were, these mostly wore monogloves, they wore nipple jewelry too and, I thought the men were better dressed than most of the others; Briga subsequently confirmed my suspicion that this was the Mirkadian equivalent of middle class aspiration, couples too poor to afford a proper vilisqaz.

We watched a woman buying peaches from a merchant who cut a slice from one, holding to her mouth to allow her to taste it, she smiled, taking the fruit and enjoying its flavour, she ordered six and the merchant picked them for her under her direction, depositing them in her bag, then he took a pouch from around her neck and extracted the money for them.

She thanked him and left.

Kirsty, overseeing her new camera crew, captured this on film.

In the centre of the square was a fountain and, as the women who had bought the peaches reached it she stopped; a man there filled a cup for her and held it to her lips allowing her to drink.

'If only men in Cambridge we so considerate.' Sally nudged me with her shoulder.

Through Briga we stopped a women in traditional dress: straps around her shoulders and belly, and entwined down her legs; her breasts and sex were completely bare; her arms were laced behind her back by more leather straps. A bag of produce hung at her hip and, like the women we had filmed before she carried a purse slung around her neck.

Through Briga, Priya asked what she thought about having to shop with her arms bound.

The women seemed somewhat surprised by the question but then smiled, tossing her straw-coloured hair from her face. She shrugged telling Briga that it was how they did things in Mirkada.

Wouldn't she prefer to go about unfettered ?

She thought it might have its advantages but what would she do with her arms the rest of the time, besides; she smiled broadly, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously; what mischief would the men of Mirkada get up to if they didn't have to spend their time looking after their women ?

Moving back towards one of the main avenues of the city we encountered three in women full vilisqaz other than the bridle. They spoke good English and Priya was able to conduct her interview without the help of Briga.

'It can be a nuisance.' One admitted.

'No. I don't like to be bound at home.' Responded another.

'Do you not dress for the pleasure of your men ?' The third looked at Priya searchingly; at her pretty face and slim body in the tight little linen dress; at her bare legs, tapering thighs and the gentle swell of her calfs in the heels.

'Perhaps I dress for myself.' Priya responded with just the right amount of challenge.

My opinion of her rose again.

The third woman nodded, thinking about Priya's comment. 'But it is nice to feel sexy to have others look at you and enjoy what they see.'

'It is the woman who is sexy, not the clothing.' The second woman corrected. 'Though clothing can draw the eye allowing a woman to express herself more fully.

'It gives confidence too.' The first woman added.

The woman's companions were right. It was the woman who was sexy though short skirts and high heels in our culture drew the male's eye it was the woman herself that kept his attention.

I remembered one of the first times I'd had sex with Sally; we'd been punting on the Cam and she was wearing a lovely long summer dress; she looked so beautiful so self assured; I'd seen her in short skirts and even a delightfully skimpy bikini; I'd even seen her naked but spending time with her on that day made me want so much to be part of her life.

When we got home and started kissing, she'd tried to take the dress off but I wouldn't let her.

It wasn't the dress, of course, it was her, though I remembered it vividly.

Fucking her in that dress had been one of the most memorable events of my life up to that point. I was pretty much lost then but the discovery that she hadn't been wearing anything underneath it was probably the final wound that slayed the bachelor within me.

She still has the dress and in the summer still wears it though these days that is mostly in our garden as it's getting a little thin in places.

She still doesn't wear anything underneath it.

We adjourned for lunch in a small cafe in a little square behind the governor's residence. I could just see the tops of palm trees in the garden behind the high wall.

It was here that we had encountered another slight problem.

Sally knelt easily at the table beside me and Kirsty joined her. Priya, on the other hand was not happy and, though persuaded eventually to kneel, she was not willing to accept food from the hand of another, let alone a male oppressor.

Kirsty, thus, throughly enjoyed Birga's undivided attention although, there was a part of me that wanted to see her bend to the low table and eat with her mouth just as she had lapped at the water in the police cell.

There was little doubt that my interest in bondage and submission had developed over the previous two years but I'd always been excited by the concept of bondage as, I think, are most men; I particularly liked bondage art: John Wylie, Eric Stanton and, of course, Robert Bishop; I think it was the predicament aspect of these that particularly appealed and, of course, the tight clothing the girls in their pictures often wore. At some point in our relationship, Sally had confessed to an interest in it too and even admitted to tying herself up in her room when an undergrad student; she even did it while we were dating. We had thus experimented, mostly with me tying her, but it had not been very successful, which I thought this was probably related to the confrontation of fantasy by reality. It was these fantasies that, of course, had lead us to choose Mirkada as a holiday destination even though we had not expressed it particularly openly.

The rest, as they say, is history, modern history at least; two years of BDSM pleasure that had strengthened our relationship further; a relationship in which Sally was usually the submissive and thus, probably rightly, usually set the boundaries. She tied me occasionally but mostly it was her helpless in bondage, sometimes chained, often gagged and usually blindfolded too. After Mirkada she had a thirst for taking her submission outside leading to those late night walks we enjoyed. I suppose the fear of discovery is all part of the thrill in these situations and I think Sally enjoys the potential for humiliation, hence the incident with the vice chancellor. This aspect of her fantasies excites me too.

'No, I do not think the law is oppressive to women.'

We had just emerged from the cafe and were speaking to a man in a suit to rival Briga's who was taking coffee at one of the outside tables. He was, Briga had told us, a member of the ruling council and, clearly, a man of great wealth. His wife, considerably younger than him, knelt beside him on a cushion. She was dressed in a sparkling gold vilisqaz with narrow straps and gold pendants hung from her nipples. The buckles and fittings too were gold. Unlike her husband who sat in the shade of a large parasol, the women knelt in the full heat of the early afternoon sun, her skin glistening with sweat and he skin flushed. I noticed she was panting round the large ball gag that filled her mouth.

The servants were proving very adept at handling Kirsty's equipment and seemed only too willing to please the buxom little brunette who rewarded them with smiles and, I noticed, the occasional flash of her cleavage or bottom. One of their colleagues held a parasol over the lingerie-clad camerawoman as she worked giving her the appearance of a woman in a saucy Edwardian postcard.

Sally and I were thus somewhat redundant and stood back listening as Priya conducted her interview.

Did he think women should be allowed to work ?

'No, not when they can get their husbands to do it and relax or go out with friends all day.'

He might go as far as to suggest it was the men who were getting a raw deal.

His wife continued to kneel beside him with her head slightly bowed.

'I know some women are starting to work. That is their choice and, I suppose.' He shrugged. 'If their families need the income then it is important they are allowed to but Mirkada has arrangements to support its poorest citizens.'

But surely, hampering their movements and preventing them doing certain jobs was backward.

'No, our city is not backward. My wife carries a mobile phone, a Samsung, the latest model.' He lifted a small pouch hanging from a belt around her waist, pulling her hips forward slightly as he did so.

She might have one, but they were by no means the norm in Mirkada. The 'vilisqazed elite' might carry them as did most tourists but here they were a luxury item.

'As you can see, she shaves herself too.'

The woman had no pubic hair and the absence of a crotch strap on her vilisqaz did nothing to hide this. I had noticed this on a number of women in the vilisqaz; baring the sex as well as the breasts was common among the less well off women but most of the vilisqaz I had seen on my previous visit were fitted with a crotch strap.

I wondered briefly whether she had a dildo inside her and, if so, how she kept it in place.

'Perhaps she has strong pelvic muscles.' Sally whispered in my ear, clearly following the same train of thought.

Sadly, Priya did not ask this.

'We Skype our daughter in London regularly.'

Will she return ? When she does will you make her walk the streets dressed like this ?

'Yes, she comes back sometimes for a holiday. She will dress as my wife dresses. There is only one reason for a woman to dress and that is to attract a rich husband and whether she does that by wearing a short skirt and stilettos in London or a vilisqaz in Mirkada does not matter.'

Would her marriage be arranged ?

'No, we do not believe in that here.' He smiled flashing gold teeth. 'But he will have to be rich.' The man lifted one of his wife's nipple pendants. 'Twenty four carat gold ! Four thousand dollars US a piece.'

What did he think of the rise in tourism ?

'It is good for Mirkada's economy.' Again he smiled. 'But I know why they come.'

He winked and patted his wife's head then wiped her sweat from his hand with his napkin.

Did Mirkada really want to be a destination for sex tourism ?

'It is all money to our economy.'

I looked at Briga as the councilor said this and saw him frown and shake his head.

'I must go.' The councilor stood giving a short tug on his wife's leash and she rose obediently then he lead her away, helpless and silent, tottering on the huge toe boots strapped to her feet. I couldn't be certain that she wore a dildo but it was clear that she was wearing a butt plug; it was clipped to a ring that dangled between her buttocks from the waist belt of her vilisqaz.

I felt Priya had probably got the answers she wanted from this interview.

We were nearly finished for the night and heading back to the hotel when we encountered a group of girls in their twenties who were on a the Mirkadian equivalent of a hen night; an event which appeared to run along similar lines to anywhere else in the world. They were 'dolled up' for want of a better expression: make up and false eyelashes, their hair piled in their heads in latest Mirkadian fashion and decorated with jewels; they were unaccompanied too, by a male companion at least, and therefore not blindfolded or gagged though they were all restrained. The prospective bride was, not unsurprisingly, fully restrained, lips drawn back round a what was clearly a plug gag and blindfolded and, I knew immediately from the way she stood, was fully plugged and from the way she moved her hips was thoroughly enjoying the experience. The girls were more than happy to play to the camera, perhaps enjoying too the opportunity to strut their stuff and show off their nubile and deliciously restrained young bodies.

They were off to Mirkada's newly opened night club.

Would they prefer to be freer to enjoy themselves more fully ?

They shrugged. 'Perhaps. Well...' They laughed. 'Amanara might be.' The one holding the bride's leash pulled her forward and the helpless girl staggered slightly on her toe boots, gasping slightly around her gag. Between the straps crossing her chest and those of her bridle it was clear her skin was flushed and her nipples poking through the cones of leather strapped round her breasts were stiffly erect.

'But at least like this we can be sure to keep her out of trouble.' The girl holding the bride's leash was, of course restrained, her wrists cuffed to her waist, but she did have her fingers free. 'And if she doesn't behave, I've got this.' The girl opened her hand and show what was clearly a the remote for the bride's vibrator.

'You'll turn it on to punish her ?' Priya asked a little confused.

'No !' The girl laughed. 'I'll turn it off.'

'We've got a nipple leash too incase she really misbehaves.' Another added.

Like the other girls the bride wore nipple pendants but hers were black and hung from toothed clamps more in keeping with something from an S&M shop than a jeweler's.

They all seemed to have a relatively fluent grasp of English which they spoke with a lilting accent that was common in the city.

'And a switch.' Another girl had her fingers free too and held a short length of stiff leather

I saw Priya's eyes widen in surprise.

Weren't they worried that someone would take advantage of them ?

The girls laughed even more loudly.

'Take advantage ?'

Well, not in the sense Priya meant but those who were single would be hoping to take advantage of some of the boys in the club to buy them drinks.

'Not boys !' One corrected. 'Men !' She pushed her hips forward in a very suggestive manner and the girls all laughed. Like the rich man's wife, she wore no crotch strap and her sex was shaved.

'Full advantage !'

A number of them flashed bare breasts or, at the very least deep cleavages at us. None of them had their nipples concealed.

'But being treated like this...?' Priya wasn't giving up. 'Being kept in bondage.'

'Oh,that.' The girl who spoke up at this point had an American accent. She was dark haired, pretty, clearly educated. 'Perhaps we like it.' She gave a saucy wink. 'I came here for a year while I was a college student and I met someone so I came back afterwards.'

She'd married a native and been living in the city for three years.

Was it the bondage that attracted her ?

She laughed. 'Yes, of course.'

Did she stay restrained for sex ?

'Sometimes, but my husband also likes to feel my hands on his body.'

They dissolved into fits of laughter even the bride, thought it was hard to tell; she might have been climaxing.

'This isn't repression, it's freedom.' The girl continued earnestly. 'Where else in the world can I walk down the main street flashing my pussy and not get arrested or picked up by some pervert ? When I walk down the street here men step aside for me, they open doors, bring me a cushion to kneel on while I'm waiting in line.'

And what did their husbands think of them being out like this ?

'They didn't get a lot of choice.'

Won't they be upset ?

'One or two of us might be spanked but we will probably deserve it and we'll certainly enjoy it.'

The girls continued to laugh and flirt, especially with Briga, for a few minutes and then, bidding us good night teetered off across the square swinging their hips and leading Amanara towards what was probably destined to be a long but fulfilling evening of well intentioned humiliation, gratifying sexual torment and, probably, multiple climaxes for the young bride.

Briga returned us to the hotel, shaking my hand and kissing each of the girls on the cheeks. All three of them seemed to have been flirting with him for most of the day; something I planned to remind Sally about when we got back to the room.

He told us he would be waiting in the main square for us the next morning when we planned to film around the city.

As we entered the foyer, Priya sighed deeply and smiled, rubbing her wrists as the doorman freed them. Released from bondage, she became quite animated, pleased clearly with the day's filming.

She and Kirsty soon adjourned to their room to review the day's takes and prepare for the morning which left Sally and I to enjoy a quiet drink in the bar.

'They're an item you know.' Sally informed me, kneeling demurely in the bar still restrained. Though the air had cooled in the late afternoon it was still hot outside and her face was red from the heat and sun, her girdle was damp too.

I must have looked puzzled.

'Priya and your pert little admirer.' Sally leant forward and took a sip of her gin through the straw provided.

'No !' I was surprised.

'Oh yes.' Sally grinned, enjoying the gossip. 'Well, it's a bit on and off I understand but they've certainly had a few flings in the last year.'

'It doesn't show.' As I spoke I remembered my first impressions, Kirsty's glances at the rather aloof Priya.

'I know. Kirsty says's they've had a bit of a fall out over this job. It was Kirsty who accepted the commission; a travel documentary in a foreign city; it seemed right up her street. She decided not to tell Priya about it until she'd done some research.'

'Trying to impress the boss ?'

'Something like that.' Sally smiled. 'Anyway, when she had done her research she realised it was even more up her street than she had imagined.'

I mentally added kinky to my confirmed list of Kirsty's assets. 'And Priya isn't into this kind of stuff ?'

'Oh they've dabbled.' Sally had clearly mined Kirsty for this information quite thoroughly or perhaps Kirsty had just enjoyed telling her; the brunette was certainly very talkative.

'Really ?' I tried not to appear too interested.

'Up until now Kirsty's always been on the bottom...'

I tried very hard not to think if Kirsty crouching on all fours while a very strict looking Priya took a crop to her lovely round bottom, I failed miserably and felt my cock stiffen.

'Though it's obvious Kirsty would like to do it a bit more often and be the one of top.'

Sally and I swapped roles easily enough.

'Oh,don't be disappointed.' Sally filled the silence as I tried very hard not to think of Kirsty naked and in chains in the police station bending over in front of me to lick at her water bowl. 'I think Kirsty is very firmly bi judging by the way she's been flirting with you and Briga.'

I tried to appear innocent.

'And, incase you're interested Priya is an equestrian; she has her own riding crop and looks pretty tasty in a pair of jodhpurs by all accounts; she also has a pair of very 'kissable' riding boots.'

Sally appeared to be setting me up for another spanking.

'Anyway, Kirsty didn't tell Priya the details until a week before when it was too late to pull out...needless to say Priya was pretty unimpressed and poor Kirsty's been given the cold shoulder ever since.'

'Poor Kirsty.' I echoed. 'Perhaps I could console her.'

Sally gave me one of her stares.

'And since you're obviously interested.' Sally winked. 'From what kinky little Kirsty says our rather prim Priya is a veritable tigress in bed. In her words Kirsty would very much like to see what happens when the 'little self control freak' lets rip while in tight bondage.'

'We seem to have misjudged Priya.'

'You mean you hadn't thought of her as tigress on the bedroom ?' Sally winked again. 'How remiss.'

'I've been watching her work.' I tried to stay out of tiger country. 'She's very committed and forthright in her convictions. I almost wonder if Priya went out and got herself arrested because of what she believed in.'

Sally gave me another stare. 'For a man you're becoming quite perceptive. You haven't had any urges to go and watch the Sound of Music have you ?'

I ignored the jibe. 'Do you think she will go through with the punishment too ?'

'Are you fantasising about our two nubile young colleagues being stripped, bound and humiliated in front of the mob ?' Sally's stare intensified. 'You really have earned yourself another spanking you know'

'Me ?' I looked at her firmly. 'I think your flirtation with young Briga has earned you far more than a spanking.'

Sally looked at me with challenge in her eyes and then looked down to cover her smile. 'As Master wishes'

'Master wishes he had your bridle here so he could lead you to your punishment in the way you clearly deserve.'

'I trust master has my collar and leash.'

'Of course.' I patted the pocket of my suit.

'Then what are we waiting for ?'

The next day, we spent the early morning getting exterior shots in some of which Priya introduced parts of the city and read narrations she had written, sometimes after checking historical details with me. I was surprised at the balance she put into them after her initial comments about female oppression in the city. The journalist was slick and seemed to come alive in front of the camera and, even with her wrists cuffed behind her back, presented short soundbites and longer passages with conviction.

By mid morning we were in the gardens of the old palace that was now the governor's residence.

Like her partner, Kirsty seemed relaxed in her work, continuing to flirt freely with Briga and his servants, bending to check an angle here or a frame there flashing cleavage and bottom in roughly equal measure. After Sally's revelations from the previous evening, I wondered if she was trying to draw out a little jealousy from her lover although Kirsty and Priya had clearly made up to some extent and had come down to breakfast together, Kirsty in another set of lingerie that I thought was probably bought from the same website that Sally used.

Sally was back in her vilisqaz, something that seemed to trump Kirsty's bobbing cleavage and Priya's elegant silk print dress in capturing Briga's attentions and the young lawyer seemed to be giving her his undivided attention when not directly helping Kirsty. I couldn't help but feel a little twinge of jealousy but then, each time Sally turned towards me, I could see the faint marks where I had beaten her breasts with the sash cord from one of our curtains the night before.

I knew I was no danger just as Sally knew my enjoyment of Kirsty's flirtations was not serious. She had told me as much as I had drawn the sash cord repeatedly across her bare feet making her squirm and giggle in her bonds.

Window shopping was allowed, Sally had once told me but try on the goods or even think about buying and I'll cut your balls off.

She had been half joking but I wasn't planning to test her.

Though the morning was a success, the afternoon proved more of a challenge.

Briga had arranged for a vilisqaz fitting to give Priya some understanding of what it invovled. In retrospect, of all the 'tourist experiences' he might have chosen this was probably not the best.

Needless to say the journalist initially refused outright looking at her colleague for support.

Kirsty suddenly busied herself directing her scratch camera crew.

'I've already got one.' Sally told her when she turned imploringly to us.

'No !' Priya said again.

'You know,' Briga told her. 'My father was particularly keen that you try the experience first hand.'

Kirsty looked up expectantly and we all held our breath.

Thirty minutes later we were in the shop where I had bought Sally's two years before.

If she had been reluctant before, Priya positively baulked when she saw the arrays of leather straps, buckles and locks on display and it took Kirsty some fifteen minutes to move her past the mannequin dressed in full vilisqaz complete with blindfold, gag and toe boots.

I guessed she probably didn't know about the more intimate parts of the full vilisqaz. It wasn't something I'd particularly emphasised in my briefing notes.

Finally, Priya found herself being escorted into the fitting room, lured by the opportunity of performing a piece to camera on the very source of female subjugation. She did this well but with her rhetoric completed she found herself virtually assaulted by a pair of young women in very revealing garments consisting of corsets and thigh boots clipped together with straps that looked rather like suspenders; as I recalled from my previous experience, their breasts and sexes were bare. I wondered if perhaps they were the same two girls who had fitted Sally's vilisqaz and whether they might remember my wife as the foreign women whose breasts were too large for any conventionally fitting vilisqaz breast cups.

If they did they recall us, they made no comment.

Despite her protestations, Priya quickly was separated from her silk dress and then some rather fetching soft pink underwear which consisted of a frilly thong and push up bra. The girls seemed to find Priya's choice of lingerie amusing, perhaps being used to the more vintage style foundation garments often worn by foreign women in the city.

I thought of the photos in the hotel lobby and wondered if it was indeed Marilyn who had started this trend as the young concierge had suggested.

A few moments later Priya found herself standing with her arms spread and wrists cuffed to the ends of a bar that hung just above her head; still, I think, a little stunned to find herself in this position. I didn't remember the bar from my first visit to the shop and it reminded me of a 'lacing bar' from John Wylie's sketches.

With their client or, perhaps in this case, victim, naked and prepared the girls paused for a moment, studying the journalist, fascinated perhaps by her lean body with its toned bottom and dark skin; Priya, it seemed kept herself out of the sun or wore nothing when out in it.

Clearly intrigued, one of them reached up to touch one of Priya's dark brown nipples

'Fuck off !' Priya's rebuke startled everyone, particularly the girl that had touched her breast who blushed furiously.

The commotion drew the attention of the owner who reprimanded the poor assistant and immediately ushered Briga and me from the room.

Thus I found myself forced to sit with Briga, waiting as Priya's fitting proceeded.

It was my first chance to speak to him at length without the distraction of the three girls and I found him as interesting as his father with a similar, comfortable manner.

'You are a very lucky man, Dr Frost.' He said, smiling. 'To have such a beautiful and adoring wife.'

Perhaps he was being polite or it was his way of assuring me his attention to Sally was purely courtesy; either way, like the rest of his manner he put me at ease.

We talked about his time in Oxford, English politics, and those of Mirkada including his father's campaign to become governor.

He also spoke of the girl's impending prosecution and assured me he would represent them in court.

'It was a minor matter.' He smiled reassuringly but I felt there was something he wasn't telling me. 'Though, depending on the judge, I fear they may have to endure some sort of public humiliation as...penance.'

He was just beginning to tell me more about Mirkadian law when I once again heard Priya's voice raised clearly berating on or perhaps both of the young shop assistants.

Standing, I peered round the door of the room we had been left in to see the owner standing resolutely in front of the door to the fitting room, arms folded.

Whatever had set off the tirade, we could only guess though Briga suggested they might have reached the stage of applying nipple pendants.

It was over two hours later that we were finally allowed to see the result of the fitting with Priya being lead blind and helpless from the room, walking with considerable difficulty on the thigh high toe boots.

They had chosen a tan leather for the material used with raw suede inlay to the panels cupping her breasts and sewn to her corset, which was quite deep; the suspenders supporting the tops of her boots, also with suede detail were laced thongs; over these she wore a triangle of leather across her loins that was surprisingly modest from the front though, when she turned revealed only a tiny strip of leather between her buttocks; this 'crotch strap' that was more a thong was, like the suspenders, laced rather then riveted onto the rings of her corset; in fact, most of the straps were laced and not pinned to the gold rings that held the garment.

She also wore a broad high collar and, of course a bridle which blindfolded her and held a large white rubber ball in her mouth

I was not surprised to see she was already drooling around the gag and panting hard from the exertion of walking in the situation in which she found herself.

She was being lead by one of the fitting assistants and the other stood close to support her.

After a few steps, I saw her stumble and the girl caught her; Priya gasped perhaps in fear of falling or perhaps as a result of the jerk on her nipples from the large gold pendants that swung from them; they were a lot bigger than Sally was wearing and looked considerably heavier and I suspected the journalist's abruptness may have lead her dressers choosing these.

The assistants looked anxious and were, I think, quite relieved to give their charge to another, Briga gallantly stepping forward to take the helpless girl's leash.

He thanked them profusely, tipping both girls heavily and then giving a bonus to the shop-owner.

I found Sally kneeling, already gagged and blindfolded in the fitting room and wondered if she had accepted this at some point to reassure Priya that it was nothing to fear. I took up her leash and we were about to follow the other from the shop when the owner addressed me, enquiring if we were satisfied with our purchase from last time. Whether he recognised us or his work I couldn't tell but then he commented on being unable to satisfy our needs before, clearing indicating the difficulty related to the size of Sally's breasts.

I was surprised to see Sally blush at this but could imagine her thinking ruefully that she might not be known here for her academic work but as the foreign woman with the huge breasts.

The merchant was keen to see us return and offered a substantial discount if we returned to buy a second vilisqaz; it would have been rude to refuse and I booked an appointment immediately.

Then we lead our charges, two of whom were utterly helpless following on leashes, out into the street.

Priya was very reluctant at first, pulling against her leash but she had little choice and, although her gait remained awkward, she did gradually become more accustomed to walking in the extreme restraints and towering heels.

I thought she must be aware that Briga held her leash and, perhaps, this persuaded her to follow his lead.

Once outside we were met by the servants who collected Kirsty's kit and, under her direction set up to film us as Priya and Sally were lead up the street.

We attracted a good deal of attention as we made our way slowly towards the centre of the city and I do not think this was simply because of the filming. Those passing must have noticed Priya's awkwardness. We had to stop several times to let her rest and she seemed grateful for this, leaning forward and panting around her gag, saliva running freely down her chin. She was, by Mirkadian standards an exotic and, I thought, highly desirable specimen, the leather harness with her dark skin and thick dark hair dressed now with leather thongs giving the appearance of a captured warrior queen, a subjugated amazon forced into humiliating bondage.

Perhaps I should have felt guilty at enjoying her plight but I reasoned she was being paid to do this and it could be construed as suffering for her art.

Watching the helpless girl struggle was also a wonderful turn on; perhaps, Sally was right, I was becoming an old lech but what man wouldn't in such surroundings; besides, my wife could always spank me for it later if she chose. Looking at Priya's lovely toned body in such beautiful bondage made me wonder if she had been fitted with a vibrator; the tiny thong left no doubt about the presence of a butt plug, the tip of which was clearly evident and reminded me of the sex I had enjoying with Sally the previous night after whipping her breasts.

Sally was, of course, blindfolded but I was certain would know exactly what was going on.

It was early evening as we entered the main square after a very slow climb up the city's main western avenue with the sun at our backs. Poor Priya looked exhausted and when Briga informed us he had booked dinner in a typical Mirkadian restaurant the helpless girl made some disparaging and very unladylike comments behind her gag. However, there was nothing she could do and, with Kirsty directing operations we were lead into a very well furnished establishment just off the main square.

The owner was welcoming and had clearly agreed to Kirsty filming inside. It appeared that prior knowledge of our arrival had lead to a very profitable evening for him with a room full of clients who had clearly dressed for the occasion with the men in their finest robes or suits and the women in polished vilisqaz and adorned with jeweled nipple pendants that swung and sparkled in the flickering candlelight.

We waited patiently as Kirsty established shots of the room, directing the servants with her camera but I quickly became aware of Priya complaining through her gag. To be fair she was looking rather pale and swaying somewhat on the precipitous heels.

Briga and I removed her gag and blindfold and without thinking I offered her a chair which she sank into heavily only to spring out of immediately as the butt plug of her vilisqaz was pushed deeper inside her. Her cry turned heads and this meant Kirsty had to reshoot the scene; as she did, we helped Priya to kneel on a cushion. Briga asked a passing waiter for a glass of water and, squatting in front of the helpless girl held it to her lips. Despite her previous refusal to be treated like this the Priya was clearly very thirsty. She baulked for a moment but then I saw her tongue run around her dry lips and she bent her head to accept the drink.

The gesture was beautifully submissive and I felt my cock stiffen, something that made me look round to see what Sally was doing. She stood, of course, where I had left her, still bound, gagged and blindfolded, submissive and helpless.

I smiled and turned back to Priya, wondering if she might yet come round given the appropriate encouragement from Briga. Whatever Sally might say about the girls' sexual preferences, there was little doubt they were both flirting with Salaxis' handsome son and, unlike Sally, both were clearly single and of a similar age.

The incident with the butt plug made me wonder again about a corresponding vaginal plug and, if it were present, where the remote from the vibrator had ended up.

Then I noticed something tucked into the top of one of Kirsty's stockings.

I began to wonder how much Priya knew about this.

'Dr Frost' I looked down at the kneeling Priya to see her looking up at me. 'Can you get this thing out of me ?'

I felt myself tense. Part of me wanted to help this damsel in distress but there was another part that liked the idea of her kneeling beside me, helpless and bound, penetrated. Fortunately, before I could resolve my moral dilemma, Kirsty appeared asking us to sit so she could direct filming of the meal.

Taking up her leash once again, Briga helped Priya to her feet and then settled her onto a cushion where she was again forced to kneel. I felt the girl was looking at me rather reproachfully as she followed him but then she stumbled and Briga caught her, steadying both her and then, in the way only a Mirkadian gentleman can, her swinging nipple pendants.

I released Sally from her gag and blindfold and watched as she sank gracefully to her knees beside my chair. Priya watched her and I thought I saw a look of respect in the girl's dark eyes; at Sally's well practiced moves.

Food was brought and while I fed Sally, Briga did the same for Priya. Having accepted the humiliation of being watered, Priya reluctantly surrendered to her hunger. However, while Briga was clearly accomplished at delivering food to her mouth, Priya's slight reluctance to accept it resulted in the occasional mishap, leaving a waiter, at one point to discretely wipe the helpless girl's breasts.

I was pretty certain Kirsty had enjoyed Briga's undivided attention over lunch and when finally, satisfied that she had enough on film, joined us, kneeling on the other side of him from Priya and gratefully accepting morsels of food which she took with remarkable skill.

As we waited for desert, Briga tabled the awkward discussion of the following day and the girls' appearance in court. He spent some time going through the various plea options confirming my suspicions that this was the real reason his father had chosen him to help with the filming.

Complete honesty and open remorse from both girls was advised.

Pudding came, a creamy desert decorated with fresh fruit and Briga once again began to feed his two fledgelings who leant forward opening their mouths to accept the food. Both girls seemed quite accepting of the situation and I thought they almost looked as if they were enjoying the experience. I could certainly see the pair exchanging looks which Briga probably missed and, after a few mouthfuls it looked like they were vying for Briga's attention; Kirsty with her usual saucy flashes of cleavage and Priya doing her best to look demure and refined despite her bondage.

Briga's face positively radiated his delight.

Then I saw Kirsty move, reaching down with her bound hands and, as Priya leaned forward to take a piece of pineapple she suddenly gasped, dropping the fruit onto her breast whence it slid onto the table leaving a creamy smear on the dark skin of her breast. Priya clearly had no idea what was happening and announcing to the table that she'd suddenly become aware of a vibrator springing to life inside her was probably too much humiliation to bear; she thus simply settled back, eyes wide as she looked around for some means of escape and blushing furiously.

It was at this moment that Kirsty leaned over and licked the creamy smear from her companion's breast

For a moment Priya looked indignant and I expected a tirade but she simply looked at her companion, who winked, and blushed even more heavily.


5) CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

When Priya and Kirsty joined us for breakfast the following morning I was surprised to see the journalist still clad and restrained in the vilisqaz with Kirsty drawing her behind on the leash. Briga had, despite my earlier expectation, gone home alone after returning us to the hotel and I wondered if Kirsty had finally overcome Priya's frostiness. I couldn't help enjoying the thought of the young brunette having her way with the restrained tigeress but then notice they were both rather quiet and did not meet each other's gaze.

My images of hot lesbian bondage action in the room above us dissolved but then I noticed the multiple love bites that ringed Kirsty's neck and seemed to extend down onto the tops her large pale breasts displayed beautifully once again this morning in a bustier; Kirsty was stockinged too and heeled and wore a delightful pair of French knickers.

I really couldn't help the way my body reacted.

The girls remained quiet through breakfast; Kirsty ate little and Priya nothing at all though at one stage Kirsty did hold a coffee cup to Priya's lips and the girl took a sip.

It was the day of the trial.

We left the hotel with Priya and Sally both in full vilisqaz including gag and blindfold, I hoped for a moment that I might get to guide them both but Briga arrived and took charge of Priya, collaring Kirsty too and taking her leash. Even though I had Sally in tow, I couldn't help a pang of jealousy as I watched him walk ahead of us casually guiding a leashed girl with each hand; in the same way I couldn't help but enjoy the rear view of buxom Kirsty in her bustier, knickers and stockings and Priya's tight little body in its leather restraints.

At the court, they were locked in a holding cell, essentially a barred cage, while awaiting the time allotted for the trial. On this occasion they were not chained or stripped though, of course both were in bondage anyway and Priya was gagged and blindfolded. The pair attracted quite a degree of attention as they stood still and silent, displayed to the general public.

Briga informed us that the courtroom looked as if it would be packed and, when the girls were lead in and locked in another cage we found this to be the case meaning Sally and I had to stand at the back.

The judge entered and I was not too surprised to see she was the much discussed woman; she had the sandy hair and blue eyes of a native Mirkadian and was probably in her late forties, a few years older than Sally; though she was robed, it was clear she wore a vilisqaz beneath and I glimpsed black straps at her neck and wrists and, from the way she mounted the steps to her seat it was clear she wore toe boots.

However, if this raised any hope of reprieve in the girls they were perhaps to be disappointed. The woman looked stern and listened gravely to the case as it was presented by the police and then ordered Priya's bridle removed. This done she asked each of the accused to enter a plea and give mitigation.

Priya performed the process with polish, admitting her guilt and radiating remorse, bowing her head and throwing herself at the mercy of the court.

Kirsty on the other hand surprised us all, Briga included, by accepting a supervisory role in the situation, stating that she should have bound and probably leashed Priya. The journalist, she said, had come to the city at her demand and was thus her responsibility. She begged the judge to punish her and not her demure and, usually well behaved, employee commenting on the way Priya had shown respect by adopting the local dress and coming to court like a virtuous Mirkadian lady.

I hoped nobody looked into the matter too deeply but, presumably, the local records would show that Kirsty had organised the assignment with Salaxis.

We waited only a short time for the verdict.

In pronouncing sentence the judge laboured the point of the local law and the risk to it from those coming in and not respecting the traditions of the city.

For Priya, the misguided junior, she displayed clemency, giving her the punishment of the rest of the day on public display, pilloried in the main square as a warning to others. It was, Briga had told us, the likely punishment.

With Kirsty, the instigator she took far firmer stance.

The girls could have insisted on consular assistance but neither requested it even when Briga offered to stand bail and I found myself impressed by their resolve. From her comments to Kirsty as she was lead away I discovered that my assessment of Priya and her actions had been correct and that, at this moment, she was prepared both to suffer for her art and for her beliefs.

Priya then gave clear instructions to a rather shaken Briga that she wanted both their punishments on film. Briga demurred at first but Priya was insistent and despite her bondage, he soon ceded to her demands. They had clearly discussed the issue before and, I suspected, she had obtained approval from a higher authority. Like me, perhaps he could see the desperation behind the self control in her manner.

He accompanied her as she was lead away confirming that, in Kirsty's absence he would ensure the cameras were kept rolling.

I had the opportunity to visit the other prisoner in her cell while her punishment was being arranged and found her chained as she had been in the police cell a few days before: wrists to waist and a bar through their elbows that kept her shoulders back, ankles shackled and chained by the neck to a ring in the floor.

Mirkada it seemed took its imprisonment very seriously.

A bowl of water sat in the floor beside her side and she was bent over lapping at it as I entered.

As before, I had left Sally playing the dutiful wife, kneeling in bondage, gagged and blindfolded in the outer office, with her leash clipped to a ring, provided here, for just such occasions.

I had been extremely concerned when the punishment had been announced even though I knew the ordeal was more for humiliation than physical pain. I expected to find Kirsty anxious, tearful even, but on hearing me, she lifted her head and smiled.

'I'm fine, Dr Frost, it will all be over by this evening and I'm sure your wife's told you I quite enjoy this sort of stuff.' Kirsty winked and rattled her chains, a movement that made her large breasts swing almost mesmerisingly.

'I could appeal to the governor.' I offered.

'I've been a naughty girl and I deserve to be punished.' There was something in the way she said it that reminded me of Sally in the bedroom rather than a prisoner in her cell.

'Well, if you're sure.' There really wasn't very much I could do. 'Does Priya feel the same ?'

'Well, she's not looking forward to it quite as much as I am but we've got a plan to get through it.' Kirsty grinned. 'Priya can be a bit of a martyr when she wants to be. She's going to be insufferable after this.'

'She is clearly a woman who holds to her convictions.'

Kirsty rolled her eyes. 'You're telling me !'

'Is there anything I can do.' I tried to smile though, despite Kirsty's reassurance, I was apprehensive. 'Scratch your nose for example ?'

Kirsty giggled and her breasts wobbled again. The words 'lead me not into temptation' appeared in my mind.

'Actually, there is just one thing.' Kirsty looked serious for a moment. 'Priya will be fine but...well...I came out in a bit of a hurry and forgot to put any suntan lotion on.' Kirsty blushed rather charmingly. 'I was wondering...'

I reached into my jacket pocket and produced a bottle of sun cream.

Kirsty's eyes widenend and a broad grin spread across her face.

'Sally was worried.' I explained hastily and truthfully.

Kirsty pouted with a look that should have gone on the wall beside Marilyn in the hotel.

I tried to hide my own expression by standing behind her.

My expression wasn't the only thing I was hiding.

I tried not to enjoy it, I really did.

Well, I tried not to enjoy it too much, but I'm only human and it's not every forty plus man who gets to oil the skin of a pert twenty four year old who's kneeling submissively at his feet in chains.

Yes, I did a very thorough job.

Yes, I did slide my fingers through her nipple rings. I really couldn't resist it.

Her nipples, I discovered, weren't her only intimate piercings and, curiously, these were locked together.

I wondered who had the key.

No, Kirsty and I didn't speak as I worked.

'Thank you, Dr Frost.' She was panting by the time I'd finished. 'Your wife is a very lucky woman.'

'Yes.' I tried to keep my voice steady. 'Though I'd be grateful if you wouldn't talk about this in front of her.'

'If she asks, I'll tell her you were the perfect gentleman.'

I really was, apart from the nipple ring moment.

I stood behind her for several minutes after I had finished as I waited for my erection to subside. I think Kirsty knew what was going on and maintained a respectful silence.

Even blindfolded, Sally wouldn't have missed it

I really didn't mind being spanked over this one. I certainly deserved it.

Kirsty had been sentenced to 'whipping through the streets'. This was a rather archaic punishment but fortunately, one more of humiliation than pain. The switches that were to be used would be light.

There was quite a crowd assembled when, about thirty minutes after my visit, Kirsty was lead out to her punishment; she was still naked and chained in the same way, her wrists locked to the chain around her waist and the bar between her elbows keeping them clear of her bottom; her ankles were still shackled though the chain between them allowed her to walk relatively easily, albeit with short steps; she was collared too and lead by a heavy chain that was locked to her collar; her body glistened deliciously in the sunlight with a mix of oil and sweat.

She'd been gagged with a large bit style gag and was already drooling around it.

The crew were there filming under the direction of Briga and, if I hadn't been so concerned about her, I could easily have imagined myself on the set of porn film, the only difference might be that in such a situation, Kirsty might be lead by her nipple rings rather than just her collar.

It wasn't far but, Kirsty was lead slowly and, her pace dictated by the shackles on her ankles.

The switches were very light, little wands of reed, though after a few minutes her skin was starting redden and I could seen fine lines appearing where she was struck repeatedly. It wasn't just her bottom that was whipped, they targeted the backs of her thighs too and her shoulders and then, each time the procession paused, her breasts and belly too.

The crowd grew as it followed her through the streets; it was mostly made up of locals but a few rather surprised foreigners joined the throng. A few of these pulled out smart phones but fortunately, the guards were quick to prevent any unauthorised filming and the thought that lawbreakers could perhaps be subject to the same punishment quickly quelled any arguement. Those who watched mostly maintained a respectful silence, but a few booed or jeered. There was applause and cheers as the procession paused at every corner, the point at which those administering the punishment handed over their switches to colleagues. It was at these points that the blows fell heaviest, usually beginning on her breasts before driving her along with strikes to her bottom.

She stumbled only once, taking too long a step after a particularly exuberant blow to the bottom that left its own individual mark.

Then, finally, panting and a little unsteady on her feet she reached the square behind the governor's building.

Priya was already there, pilloried, naked; her dark skin glistening with sweat which ran freely off her face and over her body, dripping even from her nipples. She stood upright with her wrists locked in the wooden pillory on either side of her neck a little outside the line of her shoulders. Her ankles were spread too, also locked in a wooden frame.

She was gagged too, like Kirsty, a broad leather cylinder that kept her jaws apart and made her drool.

I watched with the crowd and the camera crew as Kirsty was lead across the square in her chains towards a pillory that stood waiting for her beside the one holding Priya. The two girls exchanged a look, both nodding. Then one guard held Kirsty's chain leash while another other two released her wrists and locked them in the pillory beside her neck. She didn't struggle and, in a moment her ankles were freed from their chains and locked into the stocks below.

With there prisoner suitably helpless, the guards withdrew though took up station a short distance away from their prisoners. It clearly wasn't to prevent the girls escaping, their bondage was way too secure for that but whether it was to ensure they couldn't be rescued or to protect them from molestation wasn't clear. Anywhere else in the world, the latter might have been more likely as they made an utterly delicious pair even if rather unmatched.

Even with Kirsty's reassurance, I might have thought they would be terrified by such treatment but I saw them look at each other again both smiling around their gags.

Then I noticed Priya was holding something.

It was subtle but her hand definitely moved and at that moment, saw Kirsty jolt in her bonds looking at Priya with gratitude.

Both girls exchanged a knowing look then both stared ahead.

I was sure Kirsty was writhing gently in her bonds, circling her hips subtly.

Standing next to my almost naked wife in tight bondage leashed at my side, I once again had the impression I was involved in the making of a porn film.

The girls' punishment ended at sunset.

Though humiliatingly on display, they were protected through their entire ordeal by guards and even given regular cups of water for which their gags were briefly removed. This did mean that Kirsty had, at one point, been forced to relieve herself in public. Interestingly, while watching this is a common sexual fantasy, most of the residents of Mirkada turned away when it became clear what was happening, many of the men covering the eyes of their wives.

Fortunately, Kirsty, was discrete about the distraction she had arranged to help her to pass the time and, if Priya did allow her orgasm, Kirsty certainly concealed it well. Playing with what was clearly the remote control to the vibrator locked inside Kirsty seemed to provide Priya with something to occupy her mind too.

Once they were freed they clung to each other, naked and sweat drenched, embracing even before their gags were removed. However, under the direction of the guards Briga and I quickly bound and leashed them; then we helped them back to the hotel, still naked and gagged, passing straight through the lobby taking them to Kirsty's room.

It was clear from the discarded underwear and sex toys that both girls had spent at least the previous night here together.

Sally, still tightly restrained, gave me her 'I told you so' look.

On being released, both girls hugged again, still gagged and rubbing their wrists even as they embraced and, when their gags were removed they kissed, passionately for what to me was an uncomfortably long time.

It seemed all my lesbian fantasies were coming true in front of my eyes and, unfortunately, in front of my wife's too.

When they finally disengaged, Kirsty came to thank us. Her body was slick with sweat and sun oil and she left my shirt-front wet when she pressed herself against me.

Sally looked on and but then received her own hug.

By then the swelling in my trousers was probably obvious.

'Oh yes.' Kirsty said disengaging herself from Sally. 'You wanted to borrow something.' She bent over, either unaware or unconcerned that she was displaying her locked sex and naked bottom, still red from her punishment, and dug in her bag. A moment later she pulled out riding crop.

'I certainly won't be needing it tonight.' Kirsty grinned as she gestured to the red marks on her breasts and belly.

I looked at Sally who simply smiled enigmatically. Her smile broadened further when Kirsty slid the crop into one of the straps of my wife's vilisqaz

'This is to thank you and your husband for the suncream.' Kirsty stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on Sally's cheek then she hooked her finger into the ring on Sally's collar and put her lips to Sally's ear. Though she whispered, she was far from discrete. 'You'll be pleased to know your husband did a very thorough job.'

Sally looked at me as I began to blush.

I looked enviously at the cushions on which Sally and Kirsty knelt as I sat at breakfast the next morning.

Sally had given me the whipping I deserved.

The sex afterwards had been sublime with Sally admitting to me that she was more than a little turned on by Kirsty's plight and hoping she would have the opportunity to enjoy a little public humiliation of her own before too long. Though she quite liked the idea of running naked into the square and swimming in the fountain until she was arrested and perhaps even pilloried for the night, we compromised, for tonight at least, on me taking her from behind as she stood at the window of our room with her naked body pressed against the glass for anyone who might be looking to see her for the wanton slut she was.

It wasn't too much of a surprise therefore that she was kneeling beside me at breakfast this morning in a very brief pair of knickers and a leather belt buckled under her bare breasts. She wore her collar too and was restrained in her monoglove.

Briga had joined us for breakfast, giving a similar response to Sally's clothing to the one that his mother had a two years earlier.

On this occasion Sally simply smiled at the implication that she looked like a slut.

Priya was not with us.

Although the bites on Kirsty's breasts attested to another night of passion, Kirsty told us that Priya had subsequently packed her bags and, with the support of the concierge, arranged a car to take her back to the capital and a flight home. The same concierge, Kirsty said, coincidently the young one who had approached her on her arrival, had lead the pair, suitably leashed and restrained to avoid any risk of misunderstanding to the city gate where he had released Priya before leading Kirsty back up the hill to the hotel.

'He was very helpful.' Kirsty concluded but he wouldn't accept any reward for his services.

Sally and I looked at each other as she said this, both wondering exactly what Kirsty might have offered the young Mirkadian.

Priya had left clear notes of what she wanted doing to complete the filming and had asked Kirsty to ensure that Sally or I would do a short introductory segment.

It wasn't really the punishment, Kirsty assured an anxious Briga that made Priya want to leave; in fact, the young journalist was, apparently, beginning to feel more comfortable in the city; perhaps, Kirsty speculated, it was the location work making her lose her inhibitions or perhaps the punishment had brought them closer together. Whatever it was that had happened, the couple had clearly enjoyed a night of very bridled passion beginning with them sharing a cooling bath and proceeding to Priya, once again, consenting to being restrained in the vilisqaz. The journalist had even allowed herself to be lead, gagged and blindfolded, through the streets by a suitably restrained Kirsty and then taken back to the bedroom where she had spent the night as Kirsty's willing and obedient sex slave.

Although, sadly, Kirsty's forthright description ceased at this point she did conclude by giving us her opinion as to why Priya had left.

'She's a control freak.' Kirsty opined as she ended her narration. 'So much so that the horny little slut can't admit to me she's a lesbian and a very submissive one at that.'

Fortunately, I wasn't holding a glass of orange juice at the time so I couldn't spill it down Sally's cleavage and earn myself another well deserved spanking; even Briga had the decency to look shocked at the comment.

'I'm Professor Sally Frost and I'm here in Mirkada being fitted for a traditional garment, called a vilisqaz, that is worn by the local woman.'

In Sally's current exhibitionist state, it had taken much to allow Kirsty and her cameras into the fitting; a good lunch and several of glasses of wine had eased any misgivings she might have. She'd also got the morning work under belt.

'Mark has done some TV work.' Sally had pointed out as she knelt there almost naked, restrained and collared with her leash clipped to the breakfast table.

Kirsty had briefly turned her lovely smile onto me and leant forward flashing cleavage in abundance but then she had dropped me...

'I was thinking of you, Professor.' Kirsty had turned back to Sally who had raised an eyebrow.

'I thought you'd never ask.' Sally flashed me her most perfect smile.

She'd done a good job too, even dressed, if that was an appropriate description of the belt around her chest, knickers and heels she wore in her guise of Mirkadian slut.

I suppose the nipple pendants had, at least given her a touch of respectability.

Kirsty had assured her that the camera would stay focussed on her face and had made the same promise over lunch for the vilisqaz fitting though wondered how a Cambridge academic had missed the obvious flaw in that plan.

Perhaps it was the half bottle of wine she had downed during her discussions with Kirsty.

Thus, once Sally had delivered her lines the camera pulled back to show that Sally was displayed, arms spread and wrists cuffed as I had seen Pryia the day before.

It also showed that Sally was naked.

I supposed that it could all be edited out and, after a good lunch including a couple of glasses myself, I was comfortable enough to sit back and enjoy the show.

Kirsty had, after all, assured us that her filming of Sally would be discrete.

'In this programme, we'll be exploring the culture of this fascinating city and it's unusual rule that many would consider very demeaning to women...'

The two assistants who had dressed Priya the previous day entered shot, one of them slipping a high leather collar around Sally's throat; the collar was soft and shiny with the glossiness of wet-look black patent leather and was fitted with several rings. I had not been party to the choice of colour this time; Sally and Kirsty had disappeared with the shop owner and his assistants leaving me sipping iced tea laced with spirit or, judging by its strength, probably the ingredients were best listed the other way around.

The fitting of the vilisqaz was thus to be a surprise for me.

Once the collar was buckled in place, the second girl began to slide straps through the rings.

And so I watched for the next hour and a half as my wife was, once again, put gently and meticulously into tight bondage of her own volition, as leather cones were tightened around her large breasts, lifting them and forcing them the stand out, the nipples large and proud at their tips.

I watched straps being tightened around her waist, a solid panel of leather over her belly but thin straps behind; then as what could only be described as chaps were strapped to her legs. These were also in shiny black leather that shone under the lights. This vilisqaz, like the one the one worn by the woman who's husband we had interviewed and others we had seen about the city, had no crotch strap and, once the chaps were in place, I had the pleasure of watching as one of the girls shaved Sally's sex with a cut-throat razor. I would very much have liked to do this myself but after the wine I suspected the dressers would have a steadier hand. Nevertheless, I hoped I might be invited to maintain her grooming once we got home especially when it became clear that Sally was clearly enjoying being shaved, looking at me with lust-filled eyes and squirming gently in her bondage until one of the dressers rebuked her with a sharp slap on the bottom and an admonition to keep still. By the time the remaining foam was wiped away she was panting and considerably more flushed than before the girl's had started. She had also earned a second slap on the bottom.

She was given a choice of boots, all ankle high to allow them to be laced or buckled below the chaps. All forced the wearer to walk on her toes, in some cases the very tips and I was reminded of the blonde back in the Todos Mundo. One pair looked very much like play hooves for a pony girl. Sally chose shiny black toe boots with tiny points and, excitingly, little rings on the insides just below the ankles that could surely be for no other purpose than to hobble the wearer.

She hung onto the lacing bar as these were strapped to her feet and then used it to balance precariously as she tried to get used to the extreme footwear. Then, when she seemed more stable, Sally's arms were released one at a time to be strapped into what could only be described as half bondage sleeves, the outer half a leather panel and the insides a series of perhaps a dozen thin straps with silver buckles; these sleeves had mitts that left her fingers useless; her elbows were then pulled tightly behind her and the tips of the mitts linked together and to a ring over the glossy leather covering her belly.

She stood now helpless, balanced on the toe boots and, I thought, rather blatantly rubbing her thighs together until another slap on the bottom stilled her.

The shop assistants, it seemed, were rather more strict these days with their foreign customers and perhaps this explained their success in dressing Priya on our visit here two days before.

Sally's current look was, we had been informed, like the display of the bare sex, very much in the new style. Modern materials were popular too, especially the wet look leather that Sally was currently modeling, particularly with foreign visitors.

Without Taiarche to guide her, Sally was given the choice of internal attachments; we already had the vaginal dildo with its vibrator, the one which had, on two occasions recently, got me into trouble but Sally wanted a new butt plug.

'I need a bigger one.' She explained to the room in general. 'My husband has developed a taste for anal sex since we were last here and I don't want to disappoint him.'

I guessed I wasn't the only one to have enjoyed the iced tea.

She blew a kiss into the air in my direction and I felt myself blushing. I tried not to look at anybody, I wasn't sure I shared Sally's taste for public humiliation.

She did indeed choose a large plug, a pear shaped one with a outer ring that one of the girls pushed inside her with surprising ease, clipping it to some sort of fastening.

The bridle was similar to the one we already owned except that it was, of course, in black wet-look leather and this one had a bit gag. Sally was offered a plume, something that was apparently popular with some visitors and I couldn't help thinking that, like the boots she had been shown, this must have something to do with pony-play.

Perhaps some butt plugs came with a tail attached.

With the bit gag in her mouth, she began to drool almost immediately and one of the dressers wiped her chin while the other fetched Sally's vibrator, bringing it on a tray with a number of other items covered by a towel. I still didn't know how she was going to keep this in place, perhaps, I thought, a discrete chain clipped to her butt plug. However, I soon discovered I was wrong.

The assistant who had been wiping Sally's chin took hold of my wife's leash and turned her round, guiding her towards a frame at the back of the room that supported a horizontal bar. This view of my lovely, helpless wife was as breathtaking as the front view; the straps round her arms pulled her elbows tightly together drawing her shoulders back severely enforcing a crease of flesh that ran straight down the centre of her back over her spine; her whole back and the back of her legs were striped with a series of narrow horizontal straps each with its own little silver buckle; only her bottom was completely bare save for two straps that ran obliquely over the curve of her buttocks to meet in the cleft of her bottom at a silver ring to which the butt plug was not only clipped but padlocked.

I watched her walk, blind now in the bridle, obedient and helpless, on straight legs, a little unsure on the tiny points of the boots that looked as if they should be impossible to stand in, let alone walk in; her legs appeared impossibly long, tapering, beautiful. Around her the room seemed suddenly quiet, the gently, hesitant tapping of her feet on the floor the only sound.

I think we all held our breaths, expecting her to fall but she made the dozen or so steps without incident before being stopped by the bar with her newly shaved sex pressed against it. The girl holding her Sally's leash made her helpless charge bend over at the waist then secured the leash to a ring set in the floor. Meanwhile, the other girl, the one holding the tray, encouraged Sally to spread her legs slightly; she then bent in a practiced move to cuff her ankles to the frame.

Sally thus stood in front of me bent at the waist with her legs spread and her bottom very clearly presented to me. The butt plug was obvious as was her sex, flagrantly displayed, her labia glistening. The girl who had shaved her then took scissors and tweezers from the tray and plucked and trimmed any remaining hairs while Sally, completely unable to prevent such casual handling of her most intimate areas squirmed and squealed delightfully around her gag.

Through her spread legs I could see Sally was drooling freely onto the floor around her gag.

When she was satisfied that Sally's sex was pristine, the girl sprayed something onto the newly shaved pussy causing Sally to gasp loudly and jump in her bonds then assistant took up something that looked a little like a large pair of pliers or perhaps some instrument of torture. At first, I couldn't seem what use it might have and then, as the girl gently held Sally's labia I realised what was happening.

My wife was about to be pierced.

Intimately.

For a moment I thought I should prevent this but Sally had clearly asked for it to happen and, while we all do things we regret on holiday, it was hardly in irreversible decision, any piercings would heal if she changed her mind.

It wasn't like getting a tattoo.

The other reason I didn't intervene, if I'm perfectly honest, was because I really wanted this to happen; the thought of my wife requesting and submitting to this intimate piercing made my already stiff cock twitch so violently I was in danger of cumming where I sat.

I thus sat watching as three silver rings, were inserted into each of Sally's labia, one below the other, in six sharp clicks. With each one Sally gasped, jerking slightly in her bonds. I watched tiny trails of blood from each wound mingling with the juices that were flowing from her engorged pussy. The piercing was done with the minimum of fuss and no attempt to check Sally's wish to continue though she gave no sign that she had changed her mind.

As her partner worked, the girl who still held the tray watched over the process stroking Sally's bottom gently with her finger and Sally simply stood, helpless in her bondage, a puddle of saliva forming on the floor below her gagged mouth.

'Madam ?' The girl with the tray suddenly spoke.

I think we all jumped apart from Sally.

There was a pause and I assumed she was checking Sally was alright.

Sally appeared to hesitate for a moment then nodded and the girl who had spoken looked at to her colleague.

'Sir ?' The girl crouching in front of Sally's newly pierced sex turned and held out the device she had been using for the piercing process. I had watched her prime it.

I sat for a moment, uncomprehending.

The girl beckoned me.

'Madam has asked that you make the final ring.'

I must have looked shocked because the girl giggled.

'It is safe, Sir.' She smiled at me. 'I will make sure you do it correct.'

I looked around me and, rather awkwardly given the huge erection I could not possibly conceal, stood. Before this had started I had expected the highlight for me would be to apply Sally's new nipple jewelry I had bought her as a surprise. I had certainly not expected this.

The girl gave me the punch and then, very carefully, took hold of Sally's clitoral hood, gently pulling it out.

Sally gave a low moan and I saw her tense slightly.

The girl stroking Sally's bottom patted it gently as if calming an animal.

The other girl guided my hand, positioning the punch.

'Is Madam ready.'

Sally nodded and the girl squeezed me hand.

I felt a jolt and heard a click.

Sally jerked and gave a sharp cry through her gag.

A seventh ring now pierced my wife's pussy, silver and shiny and glinting like the others in the glistening folds of her soaking pussy under the lights.

'Very good, Sir.' The girl holding my hand smiled and gestured that I return to my seat.

I was shaking slightly as I sat down.

The two girls exchanged a few words in Mirkadian and then the one who had done the piercing took up the vibrating dildo and pushed it gently but firmly into Sally's pussy. She then took a short steel bar with a ring on the end and pushed it through the six labial rings before locking it into the clit ring. Then she handed me the key.

'Sir has her control ?'

I patted my jacket pocket.

'Not yet.' She warned firmly.

As she spoke, her companion freed Sally from the frame, helping her to stand and then turning her back to face me. She stood somewhat unsteadily.

Her face was no longer flushed; in fact it was rather pale.

'Would Sir like her nipples done too ?'

I was tempted but I would never do such a thing without asking Sally first. I think she knew this too but even so, I noticed a slight shake of her head.

'Perhaps next time we come.' I told them.

Sally's lips curled into a weak smile around her gag.

Saliva had already started to flow freely again down her chin.

'Yes, Sir.' The girl with the tray passed Sally's leash to her companion and took the tray out of the room.

Sally was lead back towards me, still blind and helpless, walking as before in the punishing shoes though perhaps a little less steadily.

'Then perhaps Sir would like to apply his wife's jewelry.'

I'd bought the new nipple pendants on the internet. Actually, they'd been sold as nipple clamps but they were pretty, little silver balls perhaps an inch across; each containing a smaller solid ball that moved freely inside rather like Chinese worry balls; they chimed when rolled or shaken and, because of the weight inside had a tendency to continue swinging for quite some time. They also had little toothed clamps.

I pulled the package from my pocket and, once again failing to hide my erection, stood up.

It is impossible to apply nipple clamps without first teasing a girl's nipples; that is to say, I defy any man to do so without first teasing, tweaking or even gently biting his lover's nipples to bring them to just a little more pertness than they already demonstrate before applying the clamps. I could perhaps make a parallel with eating a donut and not licking one's lips.

Sally's nipples were, as on the previous occasion we had been here, swollen to twice their normal size, huge and firm and begging to be clamped but I could not resist teasing them gently.

Sally shuddered.

Then, I opened the jaws of the first clamp and, after sliding it over the hugely swollen nub of flesh, I let it gently close.

Sally, I think, recognised the difference immediately. I noticed a tension in her body as I let the weight down gently. She certainly noticed the increase in weight of the new one which was perhaps, half as heavy again as her nipple pendants. Then I lifted the second clamp to her other nipple.

She was trembling even before I brushed the tiny teeth against her nipple and when I closed the jaws she shuddered again, giving a little sigh and panting around her gag.

I gave her a few moment to recover before I dropped the weight of the second clamp.

She very nearly climaxed.

'Perfect to decorations for any Mirkadian slut.'

Though Sally often called herself a slut for the lewd way she behaved in the bedroom and in a number of other places too, I seldom if ever referred to her in this way and I saw her tense slightly but then she relaxed and her lips drew back into a smile around her gag.

She was still trembling.

'Ready for walkies ?'

She gave a curt nod, saliva spilling over her lower lip and down onto her already soaking breasts.

'Come on then you filthy slut.' I said to her taking up her leash.

She made a small noise that was hard to interpret; it was not one of disapproval; she might have been saying she would punish me later for talking to her like that or it might just have been an expression of her desperate need to cum.

One of the girls opened the door to the corridor behind the fitting room and the other stood beside Sally to support her in case she should stumble. Then, I pulled gently on her leash and was rewarded by the sight of her taking her first halting steps for me in this newly completed bondage.

Her hesitant movements reminded me of the blonde we had seen a few days ago in the Todos Mundo but Sally was way more accomplished. She was not unused to toe boots even thought these were extreme, tiny points that left no margin for error; I thought her piercing might make her feel awkward too and perhaps the unfamiliar position of her arms; the added weight on her tightly clamped nipples must have been disorientating too.

Nevertheless the followed my lead and, in this state, her body trembling, I lead her down the dim passage way, marveling at her intense submission and enjoying her utter helplessness and dependance on me. I suppose I must have been aware that Kirsty was still filming though I had forgotten it up to this point; I gave it little thought.

At the bottom of the passage I turned her round, preparing to lead her back up to the fitting room.

'Good girl.' I told her patting her bottom gently. 'I'm looking forward to making you do this in the bar of the Todos Mundo.'

I gave a little time for my words to sink in and then watched her smile around the gag, rub her thighs together.

'Oh, I'm not joking, you're going to put on quite a floor show.'

She tensed slightly, wobbling; shuddered; shook her head a fraction.

'Oh, you don't have any say in the matter.' I held her leash close to her collar steadying her, exerting control. 'You wanted public humiliation and you are going to get it. Besides, I've had the collar made now, the one with your name on so the world is soon going to know exactly what a horny bondage slut you are.'

She shuddered and shook her head again. 'Bleash !' It was the closest she could get to 'please' with the gag in her mouth.

For a moment I feared she might be genuinely frightened.

We have a safe word but she didn't use it.

'Perhaps I'll give you one chance.' I smiled and stroked one of her nipples.

She nodded, attentive.

'If you can walk back to the dressing room without falling over, I'll lead you into the Todos Mundo discretely. Understand ?'

She nodded.

'There's just one condition.' I crouched down and clipped her ankles together. 'You do it hobbled.'

I thought there was little chance of her making it, even with a clear head the task was epic; after what she'd been through in the last three hours and in her state of sexual need I suspected it was impossible.

'Off you go.' I gave her a very gentle pat on the bottom to encourage her and she took a tiny step forward, even less than was permitted by the clip hobbling her.

Then she took another.

I let her go almost a foot; six, perhaps seven, tiny steps. She was more unsteady like this though she didn't fall.

Then I switched on the vibrator.

She managed another two steps but could go no more.

She hadn't made a sound when I'd started the vibrator; I'm sure she'd expected it, but as she stopped she let out a small, soft whimper.

To her credit, she didn't overbalance, her legs simply buckled under her. I was there to catch her and lowered her to her knees.

She was panting, gasping, increasingly vocal, saliva pouring from her mouth onto her breasts.

Then she threw her head back and howled around her gag shuddering violently and I lowered her gently; spasming, screaming, writhing to the cool stone floor where she thrashed in her bondage, jerking violently; the leather creaking as she strained with all her might against the straps that bound her.

The orgasm lasted about a minute, perhaps ninety seconds and then she stilled briefly.

I thought it might be over but then it started again, another minute of intense sexual pleasure in which she rolled onto her belly and then onto her side straining against her bonds lost in a world of helpless bondage and uncompromising arousal.

She did this five times in all before finally stilling, her skin flushed and shining with sweat, gasping around her gag after the intense physical demands of her orgasms. Then, as she finally came to rest on her side, still helpless in her bonds, I switched the vibrator off and sat beside her, guiding her head to rest on my thighs.

I asked if she wanted to be released but she shook her head.

Did she want her gag out.

No !

I stroked her hair gently and she squirmed towards me.


6) EPILOGUE

We dined with Salaxis and Taiarche that evening. After Sally's ordeal I wondered if we should cancel but even though she was tired and rather stiff and, possibly, a little hung over, she insisted we go and rose to the challenge with her usual finesse. Needless to say, the ladies had much to discuss and I caught snippets of the their conversation which was punctuated by gasps from Taiarche as Sally, no doubt, related the intimate details of her fitting. Tiairche, I noticed, was once again conservatively dressed and I gathered later from Sally that Salaxis had been wrong about his wife's modesty; her husband's main rival for governor was the councilor we had met in the cafe, the one with the young, beautiful blonde wife. Taiarche was not hiding herself, she was playing the traditional wife; a story that tallied with Salaxis' comments about his wife's other new vilisqaz. 'There is barely anything of it and the leash clips to her nipples.' He had whispered as we sat together. 'It is a style we picked up from some of the tourists.' Part of me wished we had known about that. 'We only use that one in the bedroom at the moment.' He had concluded with a laugh.

I had noticed that, unusually, he wore formal Mirkadian robes rather than his usual suit.

Sally later confirmed Salaxis' comments. She also told me that, when Salaxis was elected, as Taiarche fully expected him to be, the lovely brunette planned to attend her husband's inauguration in the new vilisqaz preferably with her nipples pierced, a rising fashion in Mirkada of which she thoroughly approved, and, if she had any say in the matter, lead by a leash clipped to a new set of labial piercings; apparently she had not yet decided whether to have her clitoris done too. Taiarche was, it seemed, just as comfortable with displaying her lovely body as my favourite bondage model and my beautiful wife. All three had clearly put a great deal of effort into maintaining their beauty and, the two I knew at least, had minds and personalities to maintain the interest of others once they had attracted it.

After we bid Salaxis and his wife good night, I lead Sally back to the hotel for the last time in full vilisqaz a task for which she thanked my with another bout of oral sex. She was, by her own admission, way too tired and sore to contemplate anything else. I like to think I showed my understanding by climaxing quickly so she could swallow and go to bed. In my defense I would point out that I had, to all intents a purposes, spent the afternoon and evening playing an extra in a pornographic film and, unlike my wife, had not had the opportunity to satisfy the desire that it had induced.

Sally was asleep before I'd finished releasing her from her bondage and barely stirred all night even though I had finished our packing before retiring.

I'd had quite a bit of trouble waking her in the morning too, but we had made it to breakfast in time and then walked with Briga and Kirsty at the gates to the city.

Sally was once again in her new patent leather vilisqaz. In the harsh light of day it did look more kinky playwear than traditional costume although she was not alone; one of the women in the bus queue looked more pony girl than Mirkadian aristocrat with her padded harness, tight black boots with the toes shaped like hooves and even a plume on her bitted bridle; when she turned I wasn't surprised to see a tail swishing from her butt plug.

Mirkada was definitely changing.

Beyond the city walls, Kirsty asked to be freed from the pink single sleeve she'd come down to breakfast wearing. Once her arms were free she gave Sally a hug. I was relieved she simply shook hands with me. Even allowing for the suncream incident, I had withstood temptation, and in the last twenty four hours I had been reminded why I remained so very much in love with Sally. It wasn't just the ready submission to bondage or the orgasm in the clothing store, it was the conversation we'd had before dinner and the evening we'd enjoyed as a couple with our friends where she knelt beside me dressed, for want of a better term, and restrained in the style of the city.

Whatever the council of Mirkada said, there was no doubt that the city was a hotbed of bondage.

We didn't ask who'd strapped Kirsty into the sleeve and I wondered if it was Briga though she had clearly come from her room and he had come in from the square. Perhaps he had brought her home or left her room at some point in the night. She had, at certainly been to her room at some point in the last few hours judging by the new bite marks on her neck and breasts, she had spent the night with someone. She had changed too, and this morning was dressed in a pink cone bra that did a remarkably fine job of controlling her heavy breasts and a pair of matching knickers; she was also laced into a corset; definitely not the lingerie she had worn the day before.

I grinned at Briga as Kirsty stood with her hands behind her back allowing him to lace her back into the sleeve but he gave no indication that anything that had gone between them.

He was, apparently, going to help her with the editing and she was staying behind as his guest; quite a jump in status from convicted criminal punished in the main square to guest of the future governor's son. She had, she said, been in email contact with Priya who was, apparently at home enjoying the British weather and emancipation.

'She'll be fine.' Kirsty assured. 'She's waiting eagerly for me to come home.'

'Really ?' Sally sounded skeptical.

Kirsty smiled and turned away as Briga clipped a leash to her collar.

At that moment, our car arrived and the driver stowed our luggage in the boot then I helped Sally in. She was not bridled and I'd been generous in binding her arms so they were not as strictly confined as they had been the previous day; she wasn't plugged either, her sex was sore from the piercing and we had a four hour ride ahead of us; Sally was, at the end of the day, only human and had put her body through rather a lot in the previous twenty four hours. This was not to say she hadn't loved every minute of it. We had a long journey ahead of us and while the thought of watching her squirming at my feet in bondage for four hours did have it's attractions, she did have a final curtain call at the Todos Mundo to prepare herself for and I wanted her to be at her best when I lead her in to the bar once again tightly restrained, gagged and blindfolded and probably with the vibrator buzzing gently inside her.

I also had one more surprise for Sally and, while she enjoyed it, there was a daiquiri with my name on awaiting me; my award, if one was needed for a job well done. It might not be an Oscar but then, I had my own prize sitting right beside me.



******************************************************************************************************



As well as the first cut of the film we'd made, there was another DVD in the package that arrived about a month after we reached home; alongside it was a note from Kirsty saying she hoped we enjoyed it.

It came just as term started and the summer weather broke to September rain.

We left it until evening and then, with a bottle of wine open, we sat back to watch.

The extra DVD began with 'Hello, I'm professor Sally Frost....'; Sally's first line in what was expected to be the DVD Salaxis had commissioned to boost tourism in Mirkada but even before it pulled back to reveal Cambridge's newest professor of history bare breasted and very unpixilated I noticed something I had missed at the time: Sally's expression was more lascivious Camden doxie than learned Cambridge don, she'd worn more make up that day for the filming and this along with her slightly pouting expression and flushed cheeks just screamed '...and I'm here to show you a good time'.

Sally looked at me, nearly spilling her wine as she sat up shocked.

There was more to follow...

...a lot more.

And not just the two young seminaked girls collaring her and then handling her helpless body; the fitting was there, edited but with all parts present, cut with shots around Mirkada, mostly, it appeared at first, shots of a helpless seminaked Sally leashed and gagged.

'It makes me look like a slut.' She said sitting on the edge of the sofa, her eyes fixed on the screen, her wineglass forgotten in her hands and, to be fair, she did, standing and walking in the toe boots forced her to push out her breasts and bottom; she did a similar thing when kneeling, something she had originally copied from Taiarche but which she now seemed to do automatically, it was a posture that said 'look at my body and enjoy what you see'.

She had, of course, never seen herself like this.

There were other candid moments caught on camera too: moments where, standing alone, leashed and helpless, she had clearly been enjoying the presence of the dildo and butt plug, there were several shots of her swaying her hips and others of her pressing her legs together, the expression on her face, even allowing for the gag and, in some cases, the blindfold left little doubt of the sexual arousal she was enjoying.

I cringed as I heard Sally's comment about my enjoyment of anal sex before I watched her being firmly plugged. The image was rammed home with a number of shots of her bottom, including ones with her butt plug clearly in place and others of her, usually bent over beside Kirsty, in tight knickers.

Cut in between lewd images of Sally were shots from around the city, a few establishing the setting but most of the Mirkadian women we'd interviewed or filmed, out-takes, often suggestive that presumably couldn't be used in what I assumed was the proper DVD that accompanied this one. There were shots of the hen party of Mirkadian girls in vilisqaz, the bride leashed and helpless practically climaxing in the background as Priya interviewed the American girl; and then the comment about being spanked when she got home.

And then we could see Kirsty being punished.

I assumed Salaxis would have censored that even if it had been shown to him, surely he wouldn't want tourists to think they might be treated with such barbarity but Briga's servants had filmed it well. Just as the camera had revealed Sally's hidden gems, so it exposed a little more about Kirsty's view of the incident; we had not been able to see her expression as the buxom brunette was lead chained and naked through the streets being switched on the bottom and elsewhere but the little smiles that had been caught on camera confirmed that she was just as kinky as the woman sitting next to me.

I was relieved the sun cream incident had not been filmed.

In the square we were treated to a magnificent shot of Priya's lovely firm body displayed almost casually in the pillory and then the smile around the gag as Kirsty was locked in beside her; there were then the inevitably shots of Kirsty squirming in her bondage as Priya toyed with her vibrator; Kinky Kirsty, it was obvious, had very much enjoyed her public humiliation and in the final close up, the expression on the buxom young brunette's face was one of pure bliss.

'Well' at least I won't be the only foreign slut on film in Mirkada.' Sitting beside me, watching, Sally took a large gulp of wine.

Then the woman with the shaved pussy and the mobile phone was there on the screen before us, kneeling at her husbands side in a shot that could have been entitled 'Bondage Accessory' or perhaps 'Mirkadian Sex Toy'.

Suddenly I was watching Sally being shaved.

'Oh, my god !' Sally turned for a brief moment, her eyes wide with horror 'Did they...?' She turned back to find they did.

The view of her bent over the bar with her ankles cuffed was utterly uncompromising, the butt plug obvious, the wetness of her sex unmissable and then her piercing; Sally's gagged gasps audible especially as I fired the needle through her swollen clit.

'That's abuse !' Sally turned with a slight smile. 'You could get into trouble for that.'

However, her moan of lust as one of the assistants pushed the vibrator inside her before locking it in place suggested I might plead mitigation.

Then, on the screen, she was being lead down the corridor, walking with her legs slightly wide to protect her newly pierced sex.

'Please tell me...' Sally clearly knew what was coming, like some catastrophe unravelling in slow motion.

Her orgasm was there in it's full glory, her thrashing, her gagged animal cries, her utter abandonment to sexual desire.

I hadn't even noticed at the time that she'd wet herself.

'Naughty girl !'

'You and Kirsty had forced several glasses of wine down me.' She grinned but didn't look away from the screen. 'Just as well I was wearing that butt plug or it could have got really messy.'

Sally and Kirsty weren't the only ones to orgasm on film; Priya's little turn in the restaurant followed, the film showing clearly the cause of her unsteadiness and then we were treated to a shot of Kirsty licking cream of the helpless journalist's breasts. Kirsty must have had a camera set up to film us eating; I wasn't spared from this either and whereas Kirsty's had been quick lap of the tongue, mine was a rather more lingering caress that could almost have been described as a nuzzle; the expression on Sally's face as I licked food from her cleavage reassured me that, although she'd rebuked me for being clumsy, she really hadn't minded that I'd dropped it.

Once again, I rued the fact that there was nobody to film the night of passion between the two girls: Kirsty and her captured Bengal tigress, that had apparently followed the evening in the restaurant, though there were some shots of Priya in full vilisqaz as she was lead to the restaurant including some lovely close ups of her drooling onto breasts.

But then something unexpected came up, Priya in her vilisqaz kneeling in what was clearly one of the hotel's bedrooms, Kirsty's probably, her ankles were crossed and bound and linked by a short cord to her wrists; she was squirming, writhing, blind and helpless; somehow she was doing this with her usual elegance despite her predicament; in the background was a lingerie clad Kirsty clearly toying with the remote control; after a few moments we watched Priya fall to her side, jerking against the hogtie as she climaxed. Then, in the next shot she was stretched spread-eagle on a hotel bed, naked, bound by ribbons, her skin glistening and clearly oiled, her long dark hair spread over the white sheets like a carpet; Kirsty, it seemed, had filmed their night of passion after all, quite intimately; shots followed of Priya still blindfolded, licking Kirsty's pussy as the buxom brunette knelt, still in her girdle and stockings astride her lover's face; then they were pleasuring each other, Kirsty naked now, crouched on all fours, Priya's tongue still caressing her pussy as Kirsty worked with equal vigour on Priya's sex.

'I'm going down to breakfast, Darling.' Kirsty was dressed as she had been on our final day of filming and she was talking to Priya who was still stretched naked on the bed; the lovely dark skinned girl was still blindfolded and, now, also gagged. There were straps around her hips and between her legs and when Kirsty flipped the remote of the vibrator the helpless girl jerked and began to squirm.

'We've got a full day of filming to do.'

'Nnnnnnngggg.' Priya shook her head, arching in her bonds, her hips rising.

'Don't worry, my love.' Kirsty grinned. 'We can manage without you.'

'Bleash Girshdy !' Priya squimed again. 'Don'd reave ne.'

'Professor Frost's being fitted for her vilisqaz today.' Kirsty told her bending to tease one of her dark nipples. 'And I really don't want to miss that.'

'Nnnnnggggg.' Priya shook her head again tugging at her bonds and arching up deliciously.

'Don't worry, my lovely tigress.' Kirsty slipped her fingers under Priya's crotch strap, stroking the helpless girl's sex. 'You've got plenty to amuse you and I'll tell you all about it later.'

Priya whimpered and Kirsty licked her fingers salaciously.

The picture faded to a shot of Kirsty doing her own piece to camera. She was naked or certainly topless, and the shot gave a lovely view of her large breasts with their pierced nipples.

'So, as you can see, while Professor Frost, Sally, I must call you Sally, you're just as much of a horny slut as me; while you were getting dressed up as the latest Mirkadian sex toy at the clothes store, lovely Priya was back at the hotel tied to my bed enjoying a day with her own battery operated sex toy.' She smiled, looking down and cupping her breasts in her hands. 'And this is for you Dr Frost. I like 'Dr' Frost.' She emphasised the title. 'Although perhaps you prefer 'Sir' or 'Master'. She lifted her breasts and began to lick them then slipped her fingers through the piercing rings. Thanks for the suncream.'

Kirsty winked and then the film cut to a shot of her crawling away on all fours, her bottom and pierced sex clearly visible. She looked back over her shoulder and blew a kiss.

'I suppose you're expecting me to get my nipples done too.' Sally said suddenly. She did't look at me.

Given half I chance I would. Now they were healed, I loved to play with her labial and clit piercings.

We were back to Priya, crawling now on all fours, naked and leashed and then out on the streets of Mirkada in full vilisqaz, walking now with more confidence and then in the hotel, kneeling blindfolded and restrained at Kirsty's side, eating from Kirsty's hand; then, a shot in the bedroom of the lovely Indian girl bending over her bowl with her hands tied behind her back, lapping at the contents with her tongue.

This section ended with something intriguing: a collared but otherwise naked Priya lacing Kirsty, dressed in a pink cone bra and knickers, into a matching pink corset and then into a pink single sleeve. 'I hope that is tight enough, Mistress.' Priya said, tying the final lace and dropping unbidden to her knees. 'It will do Slave.' Kirsty wiggled her bound arms. 'Now I want you to kneel in front of the camera and play with yourself until I get back.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Priya turned to face the camera but sadly what happened next had been edited out.

However, there was a final montage from Mirkada: mostly shots of breasts and buttocks, nipple jewelry and butt plugs; Kirsty bending over, the wetness of her knickers obvious; Sally drooling, saliva running onto her breasts, sweat dripping from Priya's nipples as she stood in the pillory; close ups that could surely have added nothing to any documentary on the city that was likely to be shown to most audiences. Though Kirsty had directed them, Briga's servants had done much of the filming; it seemed that perhaps the men of Mirkada were looked at their women as did men all over the world.

Then the film cut to what must have been some mobile phone footage. A brunette in bondage on a leash, walking on toe boots being lead into a bar; she was gagged and blindfolded and had weights swinging from her nipples.

'Oh my God !' Sally sat up stiffly beside me.

The woman knelt on a cushion and the man leading her clipped her leash to the table and went to the bar. The shot changed, a second phone probably; the woman gave a start and then began to squirm as she knelt, rocking slightly on her knees, her nipple weights swinging. The resolution was not as good as most of the previous footage but I thought she was smiling around her gag. She had large breasts supported in the conical cups of her black leather bra and they were thrust forwards because her shoulders were pulled back severely by the strictness of her bondage. As we watched her movements became less subtle, her hips rocking back and forth, her head turning from side to side, her big breasts straining against the confines of her bra, the nipple weights dancing wildly.

The helpless woman was clearly working herself into a frenzy. I could see her mitted hands pulling at the ring that locked them to the front of her body, which, combined with her tightly strapped elbows pinned her arms to her sides. However, it was clear that she wasn't trying to escape her bondage, even though she strained against the straps confining her; she was pulling too, albeit gently, on a chain from her mitted hands that disappeared between her legs linking them to a ring that pierced her clitoris, a ring that I know held a bar that locked her sex closed securing a large vibrating dildo inside her.

The camera view pulled out to show the context; people were watching her, one woman was blatantly filming her, half a dozen people were discretely taking photos or perhaps video with their smartphones.

The background noise in the bar seemed to be dropping away as more and more people watched an example of the latest fashion to take hold in the Todos Mundo. The woman gasped and the crowd fell silent, expectant; she gave another cry and pulled on the chain locked to her sex, her back arching and her knees coming together then exhaled around her gag before doing it again.

The woman was clearly climaxing, unaware or, more likely, unconcerned that she was on public display and was humiliating herself, showing the world what a horny submissive bondage slut she was.

'What a slut.' Sally opined, turning to me and putting her arms round my neck, then kissing me on the side of the neck.

'Indeed.' I slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. 'If I had my way, I would punish her severely for such blatant lewdness.'

'I was hoping you might say that.' Sally snuggled against me turning back to watch the screen.

Her own face appeared flushed and dripping with sweat. 'God, I'm hot.' She said to the camera. As at the start of the DVD, I hadn't noticed her expression when she'd said it but now the double-entendre was obvious. She'd said it with a slight smile and a pout, coming into the hotel one lunchtime but in this context it was the perfect end to the porn film in which she had just starred.



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Sally clung to me still looking at the now blank screen.

'That Kirsty should make porn films, not travel documentaries.' She said after a moment. 'I really hope my new undergraduate class don't get to see that.'

'It's on the internet.' I reminded her. 'Well the slut in the Todos Mundo clearly is. I assume that's where Kirsty got it.'

'Just as well my face is hidden.'

'As long as you don't go into college in your bridle, I think you're pretty safe from recognition. Though I can imagine the vice chancellor pouring over it and spotting certain similarities with one of his staff.'

'Don't you event joke about it.' Sally hugged me. She was as sexually aroused by what she'd seen as I was.

'It might provide more of that public humiliation you enjoy.' I hoped she knew I was teasing.

I could feel her blushing.

'Of course, for appropriate inducements, I might refrain from sending him the link.' I couldn't help smiling as I said it.

'Are you trying to blackmail me, Dr Frost ?' Sally looked up at me, her cheeks crimson.

'Possibly, Professor.'

'I could report you to the university authorities.' She warned me a little unconvincingly. 'I have evidence that you tied me up and abused me...violated me.'

'But then you'd have to tell them all about the other naughty little things I did to you and how much you enjoyed this terrible abuse I inflicted.' I grinned. 'They'd know that their latest professor of history has a part time career as a porn star.'

'Just to be clear then.' She said snuggling in to me. 'If I was susceptible to blackmail, what would it take to ensure that this incredibly compromising DVD never reaches the vice chancellor ?'

'Oh, I don't know.' I tried to speak casually, continuing to tease her. 'I'm not sure I could responsibly withhold it...a senior academic, a professor no less, bringing the great University of Cambridge into disrepute by behaving like harlot on holiday.' I shook my head. 'No, I will have to tell the vice chancellor.'

'Perhaps I could make it worth your while not to tell him.' Sally kissed me and began nibble the side of my neck.'

'Well, I suppose I could be persuaded.' I turned my head and kissed the top of her hers. 'Though it would take quite and inducement to make me betray my conscience.'

'Perhaps if I agreed to perform certain favours for you on a weekly basis.' She continued to kiss me, pressing her body against me in a very distracting way.

'And would these favours you are offering be of a sexual nature ?'

'Yes.' She began to nibble my ear. 'Sir.'

'And would you allow yourself to be restrained while you performed them ?'

'If that is what Sir wished.'

'Tightly restrained ?' I asked.

'Yes, Sir.' She bit my earlobe gently and pulled at it with her teeth. 'I think I might also agree being restrained at other times too. To maintain your silence I might, for example, allow you to lock the butt plug and dildo inside me between sessions.'

'Both inside and outside the house ?'

'Of course, Sir.' She began to kiss my jaw. 'I was assuming I would be expected to wear them when conducting my classes too.'

'What you propose might be sufficient for me to keep the DVD secret but what will you offer to stop me sending the Todos Mundo link to the vice chancellor.'

I felt her tense slightly.

'Sir is very demanding this evening.' Her lips continued to work their way along my jawline. 'Perhaps I could arrange to be available for use as your sexual plaything more than once a week.'

'I was thinking daily.'

'Sir is demanding.' She slipped her hand into my trousers. 'You seem to be saying that you want to keep me as some sort of sex slave ?'

'That would be one interpretation.' I was trying very hard not to throw her on her back and use her as the slave she clearly wanted to be.

'I understand that, aside from having to submit to tight bondage and public humiliation...' She squeezed my cock then began to work it gently. '...sex slave are expected to fulfill any sexual demand from their masters.'

'That is my understanding too.' It was becoming an effort to concentrate.

'So the intercourse would have to include anal and oral sex too ?' She pressed her hand down to the base of my shaft.

'Would that be a problem ?' My voice sounded strained.

'Of course not, Sir.' She bent and put her lips around cock sucking it gently as she continued to work me with her hands then lifted her mouth away again, looking up with the kind of expression I'd seen in the film. I wasn't sure if it was saliva or my own juices on her lip. 'Does Sir think he might occasionally reward his sex slave in a way that she can enjoy every now and again ?'

'If you perform your duties diligently.'

'Thank you, Sir.' She slid onto her knees on the floor. 'Your slave will try and serve her master well.'

I sat watching, my cock sticking up, erect and drooling, as she unbuttoned her blouse then slid out of the little skirt she was wearing.

'Slaves who do not please their masters are often punished.' I couldn't help smiling.

We were back in that porn film.

'Perhaps, regular punishments might be a wise precaution.' I saw he smile. 'Just to ensure your slave's obedience. Sir might also consider having Slave's nipples pierced too. A girl who is lead around by her nipples has no choice but to be obedient.'

'It is something I might consider.'

'Yes, Sir.' She bowed her head kneeling now before me in her lacy black bra and knickers and her stockings, her hands behind her back. 'And my Slave ask how long would this agreement to be in force ?'

'Oh, I think a full academic year would be the minimum.'

'In mitigation, Sir.' She looked up, slightly flushed, utterly desirable and shook her shoulders slightly displaying her lovely big breasts. 'I would like to point out that it is a slave girl's duty to keep her master's eye, especially in the face of...younger...more buxom competition.' She leaned forward and licked my cock. 'Sir does understand that Slave's lewd behavior was to maintain Master's affection.'

She knew there was never any real danger of me straying.

'It is a fair point.' I conceded, somewhat disappointed but at this point willing to agree to almost anything if she would just make me cum. 'Perhaps a single term of sexual slavery is enough.'

'Sir is too generous.' She continued to run her tongue up and down my cock. 'Would Sir compromise at two academic terms.'

'Until Easter then.'

'Yes, Sir.' She put her lips round my cock and slid them down taking me deep into her throat.