A Favour for a Friend

Part 5. Danny

"Mmm". I jerk my left leg. "Hey!" Someone is tickling the sole of my other foot. "Hey, wake up!" "Mmm". I come slowly to my senses and open my eyes to see a hugely grinning Nick beside the bed. "Bad, bad slavegirl!" He kisses my lips softly. "Wha, what?" "Wake up! You have be on duty in twenty minutes". "Oh!" I sit up, looking bewildered from him to the sleeping black boy beside me. "Oh!" "No 'Oh's will save you, less you get up right now". He wrinkles his nose.. "And have a bath. You smell something awful. Sex in the afternoon? Bad, bad slaves!" "Oh, I, we, he....". "Yeah, yeah, raped you, or was it the other way around?" "Both, and it wasn't rape, not even sex. Love it was, deep, endless love". His arms come around me and I'm dragged up in a warm embrace. "Don't I know and I'm sorry to interrupt, but...". "We're slaves and we have work to do".

Slave, yes, that's what I am, a naked, miserable, abused slavegirl, and I'll stay that until released as a forty years old worn out, good for nothing hag. God! What I owe Chris, and Master James!

I was only half conscious that first day when he brought us here and hardly registered anything, not even what was to become my paradise. Nick and Pete half carried me around the main house, through the garden and down here. "We've better put her to bed". I saw Master James looking concerned and protested feebly when dragged back up to a spacious room, dominated with a grand four poster bed. "No, noo! Please, no more!" I cried and fought the restraining hands while Chris hurried around putting on fresh sheets. "No!" They took off my clothes and carried me to bed. "No!" I struggled, but they didn't tie my arms and legs, just put me down on the soft mattress. Moments later another naked body was pressed to mine and I was held in a comforting embrace.

My eyelids fluttered open and I stared into a pair of warm brown eyes. "Hi there". Soft lips touched mine. "Hi". But it was wrong, we weren't allowed to speak. "No!", I whispered, "Don't" "Don't what?" Chris hugged me tighter. "We can't, we mustn't...". "Mustn't what, dear?" "Speak". "Why on Earth not?" She kissed me again. "Because...". Suddenly I became aware of my surroundings. I wasn't in the bleak dorm of the training camp, but in a bright and cosy bedroom. From a framed print on the wall a gaudily dressed little girl with a drum strapped to her waist smiled down to me. But it was Chris cradling me. Then it came back, the endless horrors in the cellar and I broke down, crying helplessly, clutching the naked body beside me in a vain attempt to drive away the nightmares.

When I came awake again, I was alone in the bed and sat up, looking bewildered about me. "Good morning, or rather, good afternoon". A black teenage boy rose from a chair. "Feeling better now?" I stared at him. "Who're you? Please don't hurt me!" He dropped to his knees beside the bed. "I'm Pete and no one will hurt you here. Do you need anything, a coke perhaps?" Then I remembered. I'd been saved, I was free, or no, I was still a slave, but slave of a kind master. They wouldn't strap me to the cross again, they wouldn't tie up my breasts, wouldn't whip them, wouldn't... . I closed my eyes, shivering. "Please, Danny! Please don't be so scared. We only want to help you". A callused hand touched my cheek and I shrank back in fear. "I'll fetch Chris". "No, please don't... Pete. I'm sorry. I'd like a coke, very much. Please!" He smiled gently and shook the pillows, arranging them behind my back. "Won't be a second". He disappeared and I sank back. "Here you are". A cool glass was offered on a tray. "Thank you". I drank deeply, quenching my raging thirst. "How about something to eat. Some soup, or perhaps tea and toast?" I emptied the glass, looking shyly at him. "I, eh, I have to...". "Use the bathroom. It's just over there, lemme help you". He drew back the covers and I saw him wincing at the sight of my ravaged body before offering a hand to help me up, but my legs refused to support me and I sank back, whimpering. "Oh, Danny!" He looked helplessly at me. "I'm sorry", I mumbled, fighting the urge to relieve myself. "No need, I can take it". Before I'd time to protest he gently forced my legs apart and knelt, cupping my sex with his mouth. "No, no!" I tried to push him away. "Come on, mate, let loose".

Blushing deeply I had to give in and he was swallowing frantically when the door was opened and my new master entered. "Oh, God!" I gasped, deeply embarrassed. "Name's James and don't take any notice of me". The kneeling boy licked me clean and raised my legs back on the bed, covered me again and sat back on his heels, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back. Our master sat down on the chair. "How are you, Danielle? Dizzy, feeling sick?" "No, Sir. But I'm so tired and I hurt". "No wonder. I've asked a doctor to examine you. She'll be here in a couple of hours". "Thank you, Sir". "One of your fellows will be watching over you, so just relax and get all the rest you need". "Thank you, Sir. I'm sorry that I can't serve you just now". "Don't be. My other slaves need some good honest work. Can you eat anything?" "Pete offered tea and toast, Sir". "Good, and don't hesitate to use him or the others for whatever you need". He gave me a warm smile, touched my hand and left. "I'm so sorry, Pete". "What for?" "Humiliating you like that". "I'm a slave, Danny. I've drunk piss before and this time it really was necessary". He rose to fetch the tea. "I'll make it up to you later", I called after him. "Nah, but thanks for the offer". "I could swallow something else of yours". "Maybe, but only if you'd really want that". "I would".

The doctor, a petite woman in her late twenties, was clearly horrified when examining my body. "Animals! That's what they are, Jamie. Animals!" "Can't disagree with you, darling". "You too. Keeping a poor girl like her in slavery!" "Now, Angie!" "And not only her! What's become of you, Jamie?" He blushed, looking flustered, and I dared protest. "Please, Miss! Please don't be angry with Master James. I am a slave, we are slaves, felons convicted according to law". "Some law!" "But we're lucky, Miss, we have a kind master". "Master, my foot! Turn on your stomach, please". Her fingers probed my back and buttocks, and one of them went into my anal opening, feeling around. "Enjoying yourself, Jamie? At least you could show some decency and leave". "Leave her to you, darling?" His eyebrows rose questioningly, or was it mockingly? "I'm here in my professional capacity and I'd never...". "Of course not, darling, and neither would I, as you very well know". "Turn again, dear. OK, OK, Jamie, I'm sorry". She squeezed my breasts. "Someone put needles into you, didn't they?" "Yes, Miss". I closed my eyes in horror. "At least they were clean", she mumbled. "Down here as well?" She fondled my labia lips. "Yes, Miss, they sewed them up with wire". A finger wormed its way up my vagina. "Good God! Worse than animals! Jamie, if you ever lay as much as a finger on this poor girl, I'll kill you!" "Not even a finger, darling, promise". She covered me and turned. "Sorry, dear, I know you wouldn't, but on those handsome boys, then?" "Not even them". "Hmm, perhaps not, but if you did, I might forgive you". I watched them embrace and exchange a chaste kiss. "He's my kid brother, dear, and we're of the same ilk, I'm afraid. Our poor parents won't get any grandchildren". Then it dawned upon me. "If Master James allows it, I'll be happy to serve you, Miss". "Angela. Hardly happy, or are you a lesbian?" "No, Miss, but I've been trained to serve a mistress and you've been so kind to me, Miss". "We'll see about that, but only if you convince me that you do it out of your absolutely free will". "And if her master allows it, darling". "Arhg, little brother, denying your sister a bit of fun?" "Well, there was that affair with my toy train". "Taking revenge, huh? Anyway, dear, you're hurt badly, I don't need to tell you that, but nothing that won't heal, physically, that is". She gave me a brief kiss on the lips. "I can't imagine the state of your mind, but at least you're safe in the hands of this brother of mine. He may be something of a sadist, but only hurts willing victims". "Yes, Miss". "And to relieve any doubts you may harbour. With me it's the other way around".

Master James firmly confined me to bed for the next week. Nick or Pete watched over me and served my meals, and Chris slept with me. It was almost as the good old times in the training camp. Or, of course you couldn't name them good, but it was good to feel her warm body, not least when I woke up from the nightmares that kept haunting me. Most nights she was asleep and I just snuggled closer, touching my burning skin to her, but one night she too was awake. At first I thought she was having a nightmare, like me. She was shivering, her breath coming in short gasps, and I was just about to embrace her for comfort when she let out a muffled scream and went limp. I smiled to myself and couldn't resist. "Was it good?" "What? Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" "No, but was it?" "Yes, I...". "Don't you dare be embarrassed, Chris. We have no secrets, and I could make it better for you, if you like". "I...". "Not the first time, dear". "Noo". "But you wouldn't like it?" She didn't answer for some time, then whispered: "Yes, please". I drew back the sheets and blankets to touch my mouth to her left breast, tickling the ringed nipple. "Ooh!" I licked and sucked gently, changed to the other nipple and back again, then slowly licked my way down her flat stomach. "You don't have to, Danny". "But I want to. Raise your knees and spread the legs". Miss Angela had removed the rings in her labia lips, but, like the boys, she'd asked to be allowed to keep the nipple rings.

I scurried round and bowed towards her hairless slit. A strong, musky odour attacked my nostrils and I inhaled deeply before lapping up the sweet moisture from the glistening lips. It's true what I'd told Miss Angela. I'm no lesbian, but that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy another woman. Actually, at that time I was in doubt if I'd ever be able to have sex with a man after what my stepfather and that sadistic swine of a master did to me. Just the thought of anything entering my love tunnel, not to mention my other holes, made me sick. Chris sighed and I stabbed into her opening, just briefly, then continued down the hypersensitive skin between her two holes. She squirmed and I heard a muffled scream, repeated when the tip of my tongue tickled the little brown rosebud. "Good?" I raised my head to see that she was pressing a fist against her mouth, biting the knuckles. "Yes, oh God, yess!" With a smile I went back to press into the narrow passage, licking around. "Please, please! Oh God, please don't stop!" That was definitely not my intention and I gave her a thorough cleaning before returning to the other opening. Her juices were flowing again and I drank them down with relish, then had to take a firm grasp of her ankles to keep her in place when my lips finally closed around her sweet little nubbin and she with a half choked scream suddenly went limp.

Next morning I woke up with a hot tongue licking my left nipple. I cringed and turned away. "Please don't!" Chris raised her head and looked concerned at me. "You don't like it?" "No! Yes I do, but not just now. It brings it back". "Oh, Danny ! I'm so sorry". "I'll come to terms with it, forget about it, given time. Don't worry, and it's not as if I've abandoned sex". "I know. Thank you". She gave me a light kiss. "You don't have thank me for anything, Chris, not ever. You saved my life". "Not I, Master James did". "Him too. At least I can do something to pay you back, but what am I to do about him?" "You'll be his slave for almost twenty years". "And the best slave in the world, but that's nothing special. How can I show him my real gratitude, I can't even offer him my body?" "I don't know and you're not alone in this. He saved Nick and me as well and now he won't allow himself to take from us what he really wants". "Whip you? Don't wish for that, Chris. You can't imagine how horrible it is". I closed my eyes, shuddering, and she embraced me. "Sorry, Danny. No I can't, but Master James would never go that far and accepting pain from his hand would make me feel better".

The next day Miss Angela examined me again and declared me fit for work. The others had already done a great job cleaning the old house, and now we were four it was soon sparkling from cellar to attic. Actually there was no coal-hole, only a large, old-fashioned kitchen, a scullery, store room, a well stocked wine-cellar and a surprisingly bright servants' hall. Master James sent for catalogues and told Chris to choose new kitchen fixtures, and when she gave them back, asked why she hadn't marked a dishwasher. "We don't need that, Sir". He bought one anyway, though it was hardly ever used. A new dining table, comfortable chairs, a large TV set, stereo rack and video player arrived with the rest, and our part of the house was transformed into a cosy home, far from the deliberately bare and bleak slaverooms we knew so well. Not that the rest of the house wasn't pleasant. An elegant little hall with a winding staircase, a large sitting room with French doors opening to the garden, a dining room and a library on the ground floor. Upstairs was another, smaller, sitting room, a study with advanced computer equipment, a master bedroom, dressing room and a large bathroom. On the third floor, four bedrooms, for children I guessed, and a couple of bathrooms, and in the attic a number of small, empty rooms for servants.

But not for slaves. When we'd finished with the main house, the boys went to work on the mews, cleaning out the dust and dirt accumulated during the many years since it was last occupied by coachman and stable lads, and repainting the garage and the rooms upstairs. Meanwhile we used the second floor bedrooms. Chris and I shared one and the boys another. We didn't see much of our master, who'd decided to leave the computer company and was establishing himself as a freelance consultant. He left most mornings after breakfast and didn't return until dinnertime, if not dining out with prospective clients. So in a way he fulfilled his threat of being a cruel master. Treated as kindly as we were, left to organise and do our duties as suited us best, I think we worked harder than most slaves do under the whip. We had no reason for cutting corners, try lazing it off or cheating our master. He hardly ever gave an order, only asked politely if he needed something, always thanked us when we'd done it, was full of praise for our efforts. Neither did he issue instructions about how we should dress, so we decided to wear shorts, us girls t-shirts as well, but no shoes. The boys undressed when doing the dirty work at the mews and, when Master James seemed to appreciate it on the first morning, were naked when bringing up his tea. He didn't even ask for that, but one of us always kept close to him when at home, ready to serve, mostly Nick, sometimes Pete, but when I one day after dinner tried serving his coffee and knelt quietly beside his chair, he didn't comment, except with a curt: "Please sit, I don't want you kneeling", so I continued to take my turn serving in the evening.

Only once did he, not order, but called us together and when we were on our knees in front of him very gravely told us: "Perhaps I'm asking too much, but I don't want you to engage in sexual intercourse". "Of course not, Sir!" Nick looked shocked. "Perhaps, perhaps not. But you're young, you are very handsome, you're forced into very special circumstances, living closely together, as often as not in a state of undress. To expect you to be unaffected by that is contrary human nature. I have eyes and I'm not stupid. I could've kept Chris locked up and have Danielle pierced in the same way, but I consider that unacceptable, plain inhuman. So I ask you not to betray my trust. You may please each other, all you like, with your mouths, but penetration is not allowed. Is that clear?" "Yes, Sir", Pete answered, equally gravely. "Good. The reason for this demand of mine is not to impose my superiority as your owner, but to prevent jealousy, not to mention fighting between you. If any two of you develop feelings for each other too deep to suppress, come to me, and if convinced that you really mean it, and, just as important, if the other two accept it, I'll allow you exploring your relationship in any way you may need". We stared at him, too stupefied to answer. "Is that clear?" "Yes, Sir", Pete answered again, "Thank you, Sir".

He was as good as his word, and our friends too, when Pete shyly dared tell how things were between us. "Congratulations and bless your love. But if you don't respect, cherish, adore her, I'll make life hell for you!" "Yes, Sir, with good cause".

The boys didn't like it, but I insisted that it was only fair, and one morning turned up in Master James' bedroom, naked, with the tea tray. He was still sleeping when I put it down to draw aside the curtains, letting in the early sunshine, but had opened his eyes when I turned to kneel by the bedside, offering a cup. "Good morning, Sir. I hope you slept well. Your tea, Sir". He looked startled for a moment. "I did, and thank you, but something else first". He threw away the bedclothes and sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. "Aouw, damn!" He was visibly wincing with pain and I looked alarmed at him. "What is it, Sir, is something wrong?" "Yes", he moaned through clenched teeth, "I tend to forget myself, too absorbed in work and staying far too long in front of that damned computer". "Your back hurts, Sir?" "Pretty badly. Some mornings I'm hardly able to get out of bed". "I can help you with that, Sir, if it's just muscle pain. I was studying to be a physiotherapist before being enslaved". "Really? I know too little about you". He tried to rise again, but sank back. "Damn!" "Please don't hurt yourself, Sir! I can help you with that too". I scuttled closer and touched his knees to make him open his legs. "You can what?" "Spare you going to the bathroom, Sir". "Drink my piss, you mean. No you can't, absolutely not! Do you really consider me that much of a monster, to humiliate you like that?" "You don't humiliate me, Sir. I ask you to allow me to help you. Please, Sir, I beg you!" He made a last effort, then mutely spread his legs, looking away, and I closed my mouth around the stiff rod, opening my throat. A steady stream of hot, pungent urine made me swallow frantically, but I managed not to spill a drop, and when it stopped, licked the now only partly erect member clean. "I'm so terribly sorry". "Please don't be, Sir". I looked up with a smile. "You've made me very happy". "I can't imagine that you enjoy drinking other people's piss". "I don't, but you're not 'other people', Sir". "I'm your master, you mean?" He smiled wryly. "You are, Sir, but to me you are first of all the man who saved my life and have shown me nothing by kindness. I owe you everything, Sir, and want to pay back what little I can". "You work for me, hard and without pay". "I'm a slave, Sir".

"So you are. Get to work, slave". He stretched out on the bed and I got up to run my fingers down his back, probing the small lumps of knotted muscles. "Have you seen a physiotherapist before, Sir?" "No, just swallowed some painkillers and relaxed for a while". "Have you told Miss Angela about the problem, Sir?" "No, is it that bad?" "No, Sir, I don't think so, but I'm not a doctor". "Very well, do what you can for me today and I'll consult my sister. She's coming for dinner tomorrow anyway". "Yes, Sir, but I must warn you that what I have to do will hurt". "Afraid of angering your master, are you?" "No, Sir, and I'm sure that a massage will help, but you may not be able to move much for some hours". "OK, do your worst" "My best, Sir. Perhaps I could begin with a light massage to ease the immediate pain, then after your bath and breakfast give you a longer treatment?" "Do that". "Yes, Sir". I fetched a lotion from the bathroom to spread on his back, then began stroking it, gradually increasing the pressure. "Ouch!" "I'm sorry, Sir". I was kneading his shoulders. "No you aren't, but I appreciate your warning". "I really am sorry, Sir. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm sure it'll help". "How about my sister?" "Miss Angela, Sir?" "Auw, ooh! She's a masochist, Danielle, not hardcore, but she likes mixing sex with a bit of pain". "Yes, Sir". "Mostly just to be tied up tightly, some clothespins in interesting places, perhaps a few lashes with a whip". I saw myself helpless in a strict hogtie while my former mistress was putting sharp toothed metal clamps on my toes, my nipples, my pussy lips, my…, and shivered. "Can you do that for her?" "Yes, Sir". "Are you sure. Won't it trouble you, make you remember what you've been through?" "It will, Sir". I kneaded his buttocks. "And I won't like it, but if I can make Miss Angela happy, and you, Sir, I can do it and I will do it, gladly". "Good girl! I don't want to force you, but I'm concerned about my sister. The life of a masochist is often risky. Once you're helpless there isn't much you can do if your partner goes too far". "I'd never do that, Sir". I reached his calves. "Aah! That feels nice". "Thank you, Sir". "And of course you wouldn't, because you know how it feels to be at the receiving end". "And I'm a slave, Sir. I do what I'm ordered to do and only that". I knelt and licked his feet.

"Mmm, real nice. It's partly my fault, I'm afraid, that Angie became what she is now. I've always had a dominating streak and loved playing cowboys and Indians when a boy. She and I got on very well, even if I'm the beastly little brother, she's two years older than I, and we often played together. She was always the Indian, who'd be caught and tied up. Just ordinary childish fun to begin with, but when we were growing up it changed. Being older, and a girl, she matured earlier than me and at first I wasn't aware that she was pushing me, telling me to tighten the ropes, inventing new and more uncomfortable positions, demanding to be left in bondage for longer periods of time. But I liked it and eventually we abandoned the roleplay in favour of just tying her up. And we did, or I did, harder and harder. She was hogtied, frogtied, balltied, suspended, spreadeagle, for hours on end. She took to wearing longsleeved jumpers and ankle socks to hide the rope burns and we had to be very careful not to get caught. It would've caused quite a scandal if the bishop's teenage kids were observed doing something which might be misunderstood. Not that sex was ever part of the game, how exciting and arousing it may have been for us, and even if Angie preferred being barefoot and in skimpy shorts and halter tops. It went on until I was about fifteen and she turned seventeen, and we discovered how we felt about sex. For me it came as a shock when I had to admit to myself that my wet dreams were about my schoolmates, not girls. I cried my heart out, literally, at Angie's bosom and found to my relief that not only did she understand me, but she had exactly the same problem. That made us even closer friends and confidantes. We were pretty ignorant about sex, having lived a sheltered life, but searched discretely for all the information we could get and discussed it at length, greatly relieved that we by no means seemed exceptional. Not even our bondage games were weird, but something many people used to spice their lives. So out we went to explore the world and were uncommonly lucky. Angie had a very popular young gym teacher who usually showered with the girls and engaged them in cheerful horseplay, chasing them around, catching and tickling them, even giving them a friendly slap with a wet towel. Armed with her knew knowledge Angie sought her advice about these weird fantasies of hers about being tied up by another girl, and within a month they were lovers".

I kneaded his feet thoroughly. "Aah, very pleasant, do continue. One of my schoolmates, a rather shy boy, often went to me for help with our homework and in return offered to fetch and carry for me. One afternoon when we were working in my room I casually told how my sister and I used to have great fun tying her up, but that she all of a sudden had begun acting like a grown up, refusing to play silly boys' games any longer. "To be tied up is not silly". I looked surprised at him. "You've tried that?" "Not really, but sometimes I tie myself up". Now he had me staring in disbelief. "You've what?" "But I can't do it properly, have to be able to get free. Would you like to tie me up?" "I, eh, well". I gathered my wits. "If you like". "I do. Please find the rope". He kicked off his shoes and used his toes to pull off the socks while hauling his t-shirt over his head. I rummaged feverishly in the closet to find my bag of ropes. When I turned, he'd dropped his jeans as well and stood there in a pair of tiny briefs. "How do you want me?" "I, eh, tell me what you like". "OK". He flopped face down on my bed, placing his ankles on top of the bar at its foot. "Like this and my arms stretched towards the upper corners". My hands were shaking and something stirred in my pants when I began wrapping a length of the soft rope, Angie and I used, around his left ankle. "Don't you have some thinner string? I like to feel it cutting into my skin". "Sure". I fished it out and showed him. "OK, tighten it as hard as you can, but leave an end free to tie around my big toes, stretching my feet real good". Even more excited I went to work and soon had his sturdy ankles lashed to the bar and his large, adolescent feet stretched painfully. He tried wriggling but could hardly move anything but his free toes. "Great! Now my arms, but please wrap something around my wrists. I don't want my mum asking about ropeburns". I found a couple of scarves and stretched him out, but he asked me to tighten the ropes even further. When I at last stood back to survey my work, his sinewy teenage body was as tight as a bowstring. "Yeah, this is really something", he gasped and turned his head to send me a big smile, "Thanks". "You like it?" "Greatest thing ever, man". "Doesn't it hurt?" "Like hell, but that's the point, see?"

Actually I'd finished the massage, but wanted to hear the rest of the story, so I went back up Master James' legs. "I sat down, looking at the strained, practically naked body. "How long do you want to stay there?" "Dunno, but can I ask you to do something else?" "Depends". "Do you mind tickling my feet?" "You like to be tickled?" "Not much, but it's like a test of self control. You tickle and I try to keep absolutely still". "You can hardly move at all, man!" I grinned. "I can wriggle my toes". He demonstrated. "But have to try not to. You watch them and tell me if I do". I thought it pretty weird, but wheeled my chair in place. His feet were already turning red and felt hot when I let my fingers run down the strained soles ever so lightly. "Shit, man, but it's hard!", he moaned, curling the four toes on his left foot. "You moved!" "Shit! That's one". It went on for about half an hour. I continued the feather light touching, tried scraping with a fingernail, blow gently, admiring his self control. He did wriggle and curl his toes, but only thirteen times before I stopped. "I've better untie you now. Your feet are turning blue". "OK, just one more thing". He tried to look back at me. "Please, James! I know it's weird, but do you mind strapping me?" "Why? What for?" "That's my punishment for not controlling myself". His eyes were strangely pleading. "OK, I'll spank you". "No, please use my belt". "OK". I tried to keep my voice level, but was so excited that I'd trouble hauling the thin leather belt out of his trousers. "Where and how many?" I doubled it. "Thirteen on my bum, as hard as you can, and please drag down my briefs". "OK", I croaked and bared his tight teenage butt before slashing down with all the strength I could muster. "Shit! That's one", he hissed. "You want another?" "No, twelve more. Come on, man!" So I laid another stripe across the unblemished skin and another, carefully placing them side by side until his buttocks turned flaming red and he gasped: "Thirteen. Thanks again, you've got a mean stroke". "I won't say sorry, but let's get you untied now". "Just one more thing". "What now? I really don't think you can take much more". "Whip my feet. Please!" "You can't be serious. It'll hurt like hell!" "Sure, that's the point. They moved, they've gotta be punished". "OK. Another thirteen?" "On each foot, yes". This time he couldn't keep count but had to press his face into the bedspread to muffle his screams, yet didn't ask me to stop either, so he got what he wished for".

Master James turned his head. "I feel much better now. Thank you, Danielle". "Yes, Sir". I helped him sit and then rise. "Much, much better". He moved carefully towards the bathroom and I jumped ahead to open the door. "Shall I run your bath, Sir?" "No, I think a shower is what I need". "Yes, Sir". I started it and regulated the flow until the temperature was right. "Aah!" He went under the spray and I grabbed a bar of soap to follow. "I can wash myself, Danielle". "Yes, Sir, but please allow me to help. You mustn't strain you back". "Perhaps not". He raised his arms to let me soap him up. 'Truly gay', I thought when dropping to my knees in front of him, 'Naked, with a naked woman shaking her tits in his face and fondling his dick, and it remains limp'. "That was my first experience with gay bondage and discipline". Master James picked up the thread of his story. "By far the last, but it taught me the most important and basic rule for a top, a rule I've never broken: Always let your partner top you from the bottom, he's at the receiving end, he knows what he wants, he sets the limits. A top/bottom relationship is always balancing on a knife edge, but if you follow that rule, it has a sporting chance of success". I finished washing his feet and stepped out to dry myself hurriedly, then stood ready with another towel. "Unfortunately a good bottom is hard to find". He sighed deeply and I dried his back. "But you have two here, Sir". "No, that's exactly what I don't have. Nick and Pete can't set the limits, they're my slaves". "You could tell them to do so, Sir". "I could, but never trust that they'd actually do it. They wouldn't stop me in time, either out of fear of annoying me or out of gratitude, and besides, they're not real bottoms, they'd just submit for the same reasons". "But why can't you allow us to show our gratitude, Sir, in what way open to us". "Because I can't and I won't".

I told the boys about it later that day, after I'd given Master James another, much harder massage and left him to sleep. "He seemed so sad that I just acted on the spur of the moment, without considering the consequences for you". "It's OK", Nick answered, "I wouldn't like it, but I'd happily take a lot of pain to help him". "Me too", Pete confirmed, "He's missing Steve, I think, but we can't offer it now, can we? It'll only make him embarrassed. The only thing we can do is to work so much harder and make him as comfortable as possible".

"You really are a fool, you know, Jamie", his sister told him after dinner the next day, when examining his back. He'd followed my advice and told her about his weakness, admitting that he'd had frequent attacks for some years. "Count yourself lucky not to be crippled by now. But Danny's right, physiotherapy can cure you". She turned to me. "A full treatment every second day for the next month". "Yes, Miss Angela". "Aw, Angie! Not that often, it hurts like hell". "Your own fault, little brother, and if you don't do as I say and right now, you 'will' be crippled". "OK, OK, doctor, if you say so", he sighed, "Poor master, roles reversed, tortured by his own slavegirl!" "Only good for you to be at the receiving end, dear, and for me too. Are you still willing to help me, Danny?" "Yes, Miss Angela". "Good girl! Can I borrow her tomorrow, Jamie?" He looked searchingly at me. "Are you sure, Danielle?" "Yes, Sir". "OK, then. You can have her, provided that you take her on one of those shopping sprees, you're so fond of, and treat her to a decent lunch"". "Deal, little brother, and thanks". She kissed him tenderly on the mouth.

I was nervous when she fetched me the next day, and embarrassed to enter a fashionable store with the elegantly dressed young lady. All I had was the simple clothes, Master James had given us at the airport, but at least I wasn't barefoot in skimpy shorts, as I would have been at home. When leaving the car park I automatically fell in step behind her, but she grabbed my hand. "Forget the slave manners, Danny, and enjoy yourself". "Yes, Miss Angela". "And call me Angela or Angie". "Yes…Angela". I felt like a little girl from the country when we walked past the glittering displays to one of the dress departments, and was completely stupefied when Miss Angela insisted on buying me a beautiful two piece suit and a silk shirt, and after that lace underwear and expensive shoes. My hair was still extremely short and everyone seemed to look at my collar. "Rubbish, Danny! You have such a beautiful head and that ring only looks chic". We had lunch at a world famous hotel and spent the afternoon visiting more shops than I'd seen in my entire life. A wonderful day, but it ended in disaster.

"No, Miss Angela, I can't, I can't!" I sank to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She cooked a delicious dinner and wouldn't allow me to help, not even laying the table, just poured a glass of wine and told me to sit down while she worked. Afterwards she made coffee and served a wonderful French pear brandy with it. We talked about our lives and I felt so warm and relaxed and happy and grateful, that when she rose to take my hand, whispering: "Come, dear!", I didn't hesitate for a second. We went to her very feminine bedroom and she asked me to dress down to my underwear and stockings while she got naked. Her slim, sinewy body and diminutive breasts made her look almost like a boy. "Like what you see, dear?" She made a slow pirouette. "You are very beautiful, M....Angela". "Rubbish! I've always envied girls like you, who look every inch a woman, but can't do much about it". She gave me a light kiss and drew aside a curtain. It concealed a St. Andrew's cross, painted black and equipped with a number of black leather straps. "Still certain? We can stop here and have another cup of coffee". I suppressed a shiver. "Yes...Angela. I'll do what you want". "Thanks, you're a darling". She kissed me again and stretched out upon the cross. "Now strap me down". Reluctantly I closed a leather band around her left wrist. "As tight as you can make it, dear". "Yes, Angela". "Aah!" She tried wriggling her naked body, but the straps held her immobile, cutting deeply into the delicate skin at her wrists, arms, stomach, thighs, lower legs and ankles. "Now strap those around these raisins of mine". She nodded at another two leather bands she'd placed on the bed and looked down at her chest. It wasn't easy, but I managed to get them around the small mounds and tighten them, raising two red and throbbing plums. "Yess!", she hissed, "Now those". She nodded at a basket of plain wooden clothespins. "My lips first". Trying hard to control my trembling hands, I attached two to each of her labia lips. "God! My nipples, dear. Aargh!" I took a step back, listening to her hissing breath. She opened her eyes and I read the pain and lust. "Another, and then whip them off, slowly". I put a last pin on her pulsating clit and turned to grab the riding crop she'd placed beside the basket. "God! Oh dear God, it's been so long". Her voice, her eyes, her body cried out her pleasure, but all I saw was myself, writhing in pain, screaming for mercy, looking into their dead eyes while another two long needles slowly went through my flesh.

"Danny! Danny!" The quiet, but insistent voice at last penetrated my clouded brain. "Danny, please unbuckle the straps". I managed to control my trembling hands long enough to undo the restraining leather bands, then collapsed again. The next I heard was Master James' angry voice. "I'll never forgive you!" "Perhaps not, little brother, but let's get her to bed now. I'll give her a sedative".

The nightmares were worse than ever and I unconsciously fought against the soft arms around me with all what was left of my strength.

"How is she?" I dimly registered Master James' anxious question. "She'll be fine, Sir", Chris' calm voice answered, "I've been in a worse state than she is now, Sir, but she brought me back. I can do the same for her". "Thank you". "No need, Sir". "Every need in the world. I failed her. I should never have allowed this". "Excuse me, Sir, but that's not fair. Danny's greatest wish was to repay Miss Angela for what she'd done for her" "That bitch!" "No, Sir. Miss Angela is no bitch and you don't really mean that, Sir". "Abusing an innocent girl like that!" "Miss Angela didn't abuse Danny, Sir. Her former master and mistress did, until you rescued her". "Only to deliver her into the hands of another animal". "Sir! Miss Angela is no animal, but a kind and gentle mistress. She has special needs, that's true, and Danny wasn't able to cope with that. But I can, Sir". "You! What do you mean by that?" "That I ask, beg, you to allow me going in Danny's place, Sir". "Never!" "Yes, Sir, if you want to help Danny, and your sister".

"Still daydreaming?" Nick is back, tickling my feet. "I'm sorry, but you really have to get up". "I know". "And it's only until dinner". "I know, and I don't mind". "Does any of us?" He helps me up and I stand for a moment looking down at my lover, still sleeping peacefully, then leave to have a hurried shower.