Leather & Lace, Inc

Leather & Lace

Chapter 1 - Temporary Initiation

By the White Knight

I responded to a call from my temp agency to be at Madison and 63rd, at 9:00 am on Monday morning, for an undetermined length assignment. Short on money I really wanted to make a good impression, hoping that they would keep me on for a while, so I showed up a half-hour early. Walking into the lobby of the brown stone building, I was immediately met by a doorman. He asked if he could help me and I told him I was looking for the company name printed on the paper I handed him. He looked at the paper. I blushed as he looked at me over from head to toe and pointed to the curved marble staircase that rose to the second floor.

"Models go directly to the second door on the right at the top of the stairs", he said with a smile. "Oh, I'm not a model", I told him with a shaky laugh in my voice. "I'm here as an administrative assistant temp".

"Pardon me, young lady", the elderly gentlemen said soberly. "It's just that you look pretty enough to be one of their catalog models. Sorry again, mam, first door on the left." I turned away and walked quickly up the royal maroon strip of carpet that covered the center part of the ornate stairway. The door at the top of the stairs was wooden framed with a frosted glass inset, which bore the legend Leather and Lace, Co. in gold script. I blushed again thinking that the guard thought me to be a model for this company. I screwed up my courage and knocked on the door. I had to knock a second time before a handsome man in his mid-thirties opened the door.

"Hello", he said quietly. "How may I help you?"

"I'm Sharon Glasser, the temporary administrative assistant you requested from Ad Temps", I replied quickly. His face breaks into a grin. "Excellent", he exclaims. "I'm Mike Thatcher, one of the three partners for our company. We lost our secretary sooner than expected to maternity leave last Tuesday and the office has been a disaster since. Come on into my office and we'll get through the personal BS ASAP and then get you right to work." He had an engaging and warm manner about him that made me feel like I was walking into his family home and was being greeted as an old friend. He helped me off with my coat and hung it in a nearby closet that he said I should use in the future. He then led me to the coffee machine and asked if I wanted any. We each made our own and then walked into his office. It mirrored the man before me.

The room was paneled in a golden mahogany. Plants lined the large picture window. A large wooden desk filled one corner of the office. He ushered me over to the plush leather couch and sat down himself in a chair across from me. He set his cup and saucer down on the table between us and I quickly mimicked him. Sitting back his face lost some of his charm as he asked in a sober voice, "You do understand what type of company you will be working for Sharon?"

I looked at him intently, I felt as if there was some test I had to pass here. "If you mean do I know that your company markets and sells lingerie and other sexually related items", I replied directly. "Then, yes I do realize what type of company I will be working for. But I don't understand how that relates to anything, I am just a temp doing her job, what could be the problem?" He looked away for a moment as if contemplating his answer "Our Company makes quite a bit more than just lingerie, and in fact what you referred to as 'other sexually related items' covers quite a bit of ground. We serve a very large clientele, who have a wide variety of needs. We do our best to provide the products that will let them achieve these desires. These items include body oils, custom condoms, vibrators, dildo's, leather and latex fetish clothing, leather and Velcro bondage equipment, How to books and videos.... the list goes on." He looked deep into my eyes and said softly, "Sharon, the fact is that many women are just uncomfortable typing memos and handling invoices that will include all or at least some of these items, are you OK with this?" I felt myself smiling nervously, "I'm not totally comfortable about it, but yes I think I can handle it."

He leaned forward and spoke in that warm fatherly voice of his, "Good, you see if you work out, we will need your services for at least two to three months and I need to know that I can count on you."

"That won't be a problem, sir", I replied confidently. "I am sure that you can count on me." He looks me over closely and then nods his head as if accepting my answer; "All right then let me show you to your desk." We spent the next couple of hours going over the tasks I would need to undertake on a daily basis; learning the filing system and logging in to the computer network and reviewing the computerized systems. Basically, the job entailed looking after the three partner's appointments and correspondence. I also had to understand the database to research things, such as pricing that maybe included in their memos and letters. When Mr. Thatcher left I got down to the real work of cleaning up the mess that had occurred in the relatively short time period that they were left without a secretary. By the end of the day I had all of their calendars straightened out, their appointments for the remainder of the week set up and most of their correspondence sorted and prioritized.

"This is wonderful" Mr. Thatcher beamed. "I am going to talk to your employment agency immediately, but I can tell you right now that we will want you for the remainder of our secretaries maternity leave." He shifted to his right and opened up one of the filing cabinets. Pulling out a glossy finished magazine he handed it to me with a warm smile.

"This is our catalog, not the small abridged one that we send to our first time customers, but our complete version that we ship to our more serious customers. Please, take it home and leaf through it so you can get a feeling for our company and its products."

I held the catalog in my hands with a sense of trepidation, as if it would bite me or something. The cover was nearly pornographic with the company name in gold script over the outline of a heart, which was made of a golden rope that was knotted at the top. Inside the heart were two pictures. One of a sexy blond in a lacy crimson bustier and panties outfit, complete with matching stockings, frilly finger gloves and high-heeled red satin slippers tufted with puffy marabou feathers. The other was of a gorgeous brunette, wearing a black leather corset that made her waist appear minuscule. Besides a seductive come-hither smile she also wore a d-ring studded black leather collar, numerous garters that attached to fishnet stockings and what looked to be six-inch spiked heels on black patent leather pumps. I looked into his warm eyes and managed to say, "Thank you, sir that's very nice... of you."

Making a shooing motion with his hands he responded, "Nonsense, my dear, now off with you, its after five already."

I put the magazine in my handbag and went home. I made a quick solitary dinner for myself and ate it while watching a rather funny, yet mindless sitcom. I always liked the way that that slight dark haired Jewish woman wore all of those extremely exciting clothes and yet never seemed to get a rise out of her lordly British boss. Turning off the TV, I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. The place seemed incredibly quiet. It had been only three weeks since I had told my live-in boyfriend to move out and I still wasn't used to being so alone. Three short weeks and everything in my life had gone topsy-turvy. Leaving him had also meant leaving my job as we both worked for the same law firm. I thought of calling him, but decided firmly against it.

A nice relaxing shower was what I needed, so I headed in that direction picking up my soft fuzzy pink robe as I went. The shower was warm and delicious. I felt wonderful as I stepped out and dried myself off. Slipping on my robe I headed for my bedroom and a good book. I snapped on the stereo to a soft rock station to put a little sound in the place.

As I went to grab my book, I saw my handbag lying on the dresser. I thought of the catalog and groaned at the thought of work interfering with my leisure. But, then another thought popped into my mind. That catalog was pretty damn risqué; I bet I can get a few chuckles looking through it. God knows I haven't had many of those lately.

I retrieved the magazine and sat down cross-legged on the bed. I felt the smooth glossy surface with the tips of my fingers and looked closely at the brunette in the corset. Her facial features, her breasts, waist, legs... everything. I looked at her with the truly critical eye of a woman and I was astounded that I couldn't find anything wrong with her. Then I laughed to myself, that's because she looks so much like me! Yeah right, I said to myself. I looked at her again, seeing the outfit this time and imagining what it would be like to wear it. How tight did it need to be to make her waist that small and push her breasts forward that much? I felt myself being drawn into the picture, as if it were hypnotizing me. Shaking my head, I quickly turned to the first page.

The two opened pages contained some pretty lace teddies and various types of nightgowns. I turned through the next pages that held your basic fair of lingerie, including stay up stockings and matching slippers. I paused upon one page to see the blonde from the cover staring up at me with a wide inviting smile. What actually had caught my attention was that she was wearing a short baby blue silk nightgown that I owned! I looked at the picture closely, which showed two views of the short gown, both front and back. Yes, I was 90% sure that I was right.

I went to my dresser and opened my lingerie draw. The sweet scent of potpourri greeted me. I found the little gown and looked for the label. Sure enough, Leather and Lace, Co. was stamped on it. I had brought this in a local lingerie store so I guessed that not all of their business was done through catalog.

I looked back at the brunette in the magazine and then at the slight silk slip in my hands. What could be more appropriate than looking through the company's catalog with one of there own creations on? I shrugged out of my bathrobe and raised my arms, letting the baby blue silk slide down over my still warm breasts. The material clumped just above my firm mounds and I then remembered the band of elastic that was worked into the soft material and supposed to be placed right below my chest. Using both hands I gently pulled the bottom of the material downward until my breasts slid properly into place.

"Oh", I murmured, as the soft silk rubbed against the tips of my nipples, giving me an exciting little shock. I arranged the dress properly; putting the spaghetti straps parallel to each other, reseating my firm breasts in the barely concealing silken triangles and smoothing out the remainder of the material that barely covered me to my crotch. I looked in the mirror over the dresser and posed like the woman in the catalog. I worked until I really got the come-hither look in my eye and the appropriate thrust forward of my breasts and tilt to my hips. Damn, I do look like the brunette on the cover!

I hopped back onto the bed and continued to look through the catalog. Next came the more provocative lingerie, bustier's, corsets, push up bras, crotch-less panties and some really wild costumes. There was the standard French maid and Playboy Bunny outfits, but there was also Arabian Belly dancer costumes, genie outfits and some strappy spandex creations that I wasn't totally sure could be put on without help. Next were some extremely far out creations, made exclusively of either leather or latex. All of these were very form fitting and extremely provocative. Fetish Wear was the label used at the top of the page. The women all looked like they were poured into these outfits. It couldn't be comfortable I thought, until I spotted the brunette again and sure enough she was sporting a wide smile. Now, I know models are supposed to smile, but hers seemed really genuine. So I revised my estimate on the clothing's comfort level and moved on. Shoes were represented in many shapes and colors. Almost all of which could not be found in your standard shoe store. There were boots, pumps, sandals and slippers, most of which sported heel heights of four inches or more. It was easy to see where the high heels from the cover had come from. Following this was the normal range of dildo, vibrators and body oils. I didn't look to closely at these items as I continued to flip the pages.

Bondage Equipment labeled the following pages and I was actually amazed at how much there was of it. Leather and Velcro wrist and ankle restraints and collars in many different sizes and colors. I was further astounded at the variety of different ways they had found to make a gag! Balls, plugs, rings and even penises were used to fill the poor young ladies mouths and throats.

One of the pictorial sales pitches showed a series of pictures representing the proper application of a large red ball gag, and there she was again. The brunette held the ball against her coffee painted lips and her eyes seemed to twinkle with anticipation. She opened her mouth to its full extent, but the ball refused to go past her pearly whites. Using the tips of the fingers on both hands she pushed the ball behind her teeth in the next panel and then buckled it behind her head. Finally in the last panel she faced the camera full on, the red ball distended her coffee colored lips obscenely wide. The leather of the strap bit into each cheek tightly, but through all this you could see the excitement in her eyes. Her excitement seemed to flow into me and I could feel myself beginning to respond to the erotic image... whoa, I said to myself and returned to flipping pages.

Toward the rear of the catalog were magazines, books and videos dealing with the entire gamut of sexual desires and fetishes. I really wasn't looking closely when all of a sudden something caught my eye. It was a picture of Mr. Thatcher dressed in a classy dark jacket, shirt and slacks outfit. This was not the remarkable part of the picture though. No it was that he was on the cover of a VHS tape entitled 'Bondage 101'!

In his hands he held a leash that was attached to the collar surrounding the neck of the beautiful brunette from the cover, who was kneeling at his feet! Her hands were bound tightly behind her, yet she looked up at his face with what I can only describe as adoration!

I began to meld with the picture once again, imagining myself in the brunette's skimpy custom, kneeling at this strong man's feet. I began to get hot and my hands, moved to my vagina without a conscious thought. I had not put any panties on and the nightdress had ridden up my thighs, so there was nothing to slow me from reaching the ever-increasing warmth between my lower lips.

I felt the heavy leather collar as it rested upon my shoulders. The tight bodice of the corset that thrust my breasts upward and whittled, down my already slender waist. The heavy manacles on my wrists, which kept them from reaching out to touch the incredibly sexy man before me. Finally, I felt my feet arched to the amazingly high heel of my black leather pumps.

"Oh, Oh", I moaned as I closed my eyes and lay back against the bed. My fingers rubbed briskly against my clit, sliding into the folds of skin to find my true tender spot. Those wonderful digits of mine moved ever faster setting me on fire and building me up to an incredible climax. I found myself arching my hips against my fingers, pushing my pulsating pussy against them harder and harder. Finally I came and I came and I came... My body jerked and my hips rotated upon their own over excited volition.

Hmmm, yes, it was glorious. I felt as warm and happy as a sated cat. I lay there in my golden glow, thinking that it had never been this good with old what his name... and then my body stiffened and my eyes popped open.

I finally realized what had just happened. I had fantasized about being the women in the picture bound at my boss's feet and this was the result! Oh, God what was I doing?

I quickly calmed down and rationalized the situation. Men cum to pictures of naked women in suggestive poses all of the time, why shouldn't I be able to do the same? No it wasn't your standard fantasy, but surely it was just an aberration. With that thought in mind, I cleaned up the room, putting the catalog back in my bag and went to sleep.

The next day went quietly and mainly uneventfully. My duties kept me busy enough so that I did not need to reflect to often over what had occurred the previous evening. Answering phones, sorting memos and arranging calendars were simple yet exacting tasks, especially when handling three different superiors.

Almost all of my communication with them seemed to be through their e-mail system. I saw Mr. Thatcher in passing, moving from meeting to meeting. The other two partners were out of the office again today, but I was amazed at the amount of work that they would have me handle via e-mail and fax.

In the law firm that I had worked for previously we had barely the e-mail system as almost everything was still done the old way, face to face. I was also surprised at how cordial they both were in their requests and their hopes that I was enjoying working for the company.

That evening, alone in my apartment, I couldn't hold off thinking about the night before. What had I been thinking of? I did my normal evening workout and than ate my dinner, while I watched jeopardy. My thoughts strayed to the catalog, and I said to myself, 'You don't want to go their girl friend'.

I tried hard to put the whole thing out of my mind, but that proved to be impossible. The catalog was like a magnet to my thoughts. I knew that I had to look at it again and find out what and how it was having this effect on me. Finally I broke down and retrieved it from my bag. Turning off the TV I turned on the stereo, pushing the pre-set button that turned me to a local classical music station. I was hoping that the soothing music would allow me to examine the magazine-like catalog in a library like environment.

Rather than adjourning to the site of the previous evening's uncertainties, I sat down on the couch in the living room. My hair was still wet from my shower so I smoothed it back against my head so that no loose drops of water would fall on the magazine. I left my fuzzy bright pink bathrobe on this time and tucked my pink Isotoner slippers under my rear end as I settled myself.

Opening the magazine I looked at each of the catalogs offering more closely than I had the night before. Trying to be as clinical as possible, I read through each products attributes. I read the small articles that they included to inform for their readers concerning the differences, between different fabrics.

Cotton, nylon, satin, silk all had their differences in the feelings they conveyed to the wearer's body. They seemed to be subtly pushing women buyers toward choosing the more expensive fabrics. The closing of the article stated that no matter which fabric was chosen, that any of these creations would 'warm their partner's heart'. I didn't think that that was the part of the person's partner that would be warmed, but I did agree that satin and silk had a more exciting feel than nylon.

The lingerie section was rather lengthy and it took me quite awhile to read through it all. In a way it was the most comfortable part of the magazine for me to read, simply because I already had experience in the area. Even the fetish clothing and heels didn't faze me. No I had never worn clothes exactly like that or heel's that high, but their basic task was still to turn on the person's lover and this I did understand.

Heck, I had numerous times purchased dresses, skirts and blouses cut more provocatively than modesty dictated simply to please my male suitors. Just last New Years I wore a strapless satin mini-dress that showed off a good portion of my breasts and had a hem that extended barely four inches past my crotch. The black strappy sandals that went with the dress sported a very high heel, so yes these products I could relate to.

The 'toys' section of oils, creams, condoms, dildo's, vibrators, etc., I decided to skip through. I had never used any of them and since I had basically always had a boy friend I had never seen the need for the more female oriented items.

I slowed at the 'bondage' section and worked through the extensive array of leather goods. There were many items that without the aid of the pictured model wearing them, that I would not have been able to tell you what they were or even be able guess at there purpose. There were sets of straps that immobilized the torso, legs or entire body. Leather sleeves and straight jackets. My head began to spin with the multitude of bondage permutations that all of these different types of bindings would allow.

How many people were using these items that necessitated such a large selection? I had previously thought that only the biker and gay crowd got into this type of scene. But, the articles that accompanied this section were aimed at seemingly general public. There were even a few letters of glowing endorsements, all of them from what I would refer to as 'normal' people.

One from Jenny R. in Scottsdale, AZ., stated that she was the mother of two and that bondage and particularly Leather and Lace's fine products had saved her marriage. The free catalog and a few purchases had led her and her hubby into an exciting fantasy world that they both could share and enjoy.

There was also the pretty brunette to consider. Her image graced many of the publications, pages and in every one of these pictures she looked happy, serene... content. Yes, that would be how I would describe her! Even in the picture on the video cover where she was kneeling at Mr. Thatcher's feet, she looked content and satisfied with her situation.

These thoughts began to shake me from my clinical reviewing techniques and make it much too personal. I decided that was enough for now and went to bed. I tossed and turned for a bit, while my mind roiled with questions, but I finally fell into a fitful sleep.

On Wednesday I met the one of the two remaining partners and was surprised to find that she was a woman. Every bit of correspondence that I had handled for her was addressed to L. Grant. I had always assumed that the 'L' stood for Larry or Lou (as in Lou Grant of Mary Tyler Moore fame).

Lucinda was a very good-looking lady in her late thirties who always dressed perfectly. Custom fit suits, long form fitting skirts with boots or high heels. She seemed a bit brusque when we were introduced, but later seemed to soften towards me. She even took time to show me the "product closet" which was really more appropriately classified as a small storeroom.

"I don't know your inclinations my dear", she said pleasantly, but this room should be able to satisfy any whim that you may have. I blushed fiercely, but said nothing. "You really should spend some more time with our products, so that you know what we are talking about when we refer to a certain item." Lucinda had a pointer like rod that she seemed to always be carrying. Using it she sorted through some plastic looking bikini briefs. With a flick of her stick it flew from the table and into my quickly responding hands.

"Edible underwear", she informed me. "Go ahead take a bite, it won't hurt you." Tentatively, I did take a little nibble.

"That's actually pretty good", I said in surprise.

"Apple cinnamon, but it's really not the "in" thing this year." She pointed out some other items, like the sexy French maid costume and the sky-high heeled pumps and sandals that were consistently in demand. I had seen all of these items in the catalog, but somehow being near them was making me terribly anxious... no more than that… exited.

Next she pointed out some top-half mannequin bodies that were encased in extremely tight-laced corsets. "These are custom made to each individual and you would be surprised at how many of them are ordered each year. Literally thousands, my dear. You see there isn't a body in the world that one of these custom fitted wonders can't help to look better. The stomach is tightened, the back straightened and the breast thrust forward and upward." As she spoke her wand followed the path of her words up my hips and into my narrow waist, then up and over the top of my firm breasts. It suddenly became very difficult for me to breathe. I could feel my nipples harden beneath my purple silk blouse and the heat build between my legs, as I looked down at the tip of her baton which still rested on the top of my breasts. She continued frankly staring at my body, then suddenly and somehow nonchalantly the stick was lifted and she turned away.

"Actually", she said over her shoulder. "It would be difficult to enhance your figure my dear, but..." Lucinda looked back at me with a devilish smile, "there is always room for improvement."

I started to breathe again as she continued about the room. I wasn't sure what she had done to me, but the sexual tension in the air had been as thick and sweet as honey. I could almost see my body through her eyes flowing into one of these tightly laced satin or leather corsets...

I was lost in my musings when a box was thrust lightly into my mid-section.

"Now this is the hottest seller of the year", she informed me. I looked down at the box and saw that it was a complete 'beginners' set of Velcro bondage restraints and straps. "Yes, this is really a wonderful item. In fact it is the perfect gift to add spice to an existing relationship or excitement to a new one. The really wonderful thing about these Velcro restraints is that one or the other of the partners in the relationship can put themselves into self-bondage before their lover arrives. Think about it..."

It was again becoming impossible to breathe. Lucinda opened the box in my nerveless hands and sorted through the enclosed items.

"You strip down naked", she continued, "or my personal favorite dress up in some really sexy lingerie, like a form fitting bustier, hose and heels. Then you lay down on your bed and use the ankle restraints to spread your legs toward the respective corners." She held up one of the restraints to show it to me more closely. "It's really simple to use, just close the Velcro fasteners around the leg of the bed and then shorten the strap to the proper length, lastly you slip the smooth nylon cuff around your ankle." "Ankles are a cinch, no pun intended", she informed me, "but the wrists are a little more difficult." Her eyes were intent upon the contents of the box, but I couldn't help but feel that she was holding me under some sort of spell. I literally couldn't move and the growing fire between my legs must have been making my panties wet.

"The first wrist is easy, but the second requires a little more coordination." My breathing was coming in short breaths and I was sure that at any minute Lucinda would notice my distress. God, what would she think of me.

Fortunately, she continued non-pulsed, "You shouldn't put on the wrist restraints just yet though, or you would not be able to use some of the best parts of the kit. First you should pop in the ball gag, as it needs both hands to apply properly."

She dangled the ball gag up before my eyes with the buckle perched on the end of her baton. She studied the large yellow ball and the thick black strap.

"Sometimes you have to push a little bit to get the ball behind your teeth." I nodded my head knowingly remembering the pictures in the catalog. As she returned the ball to the box it brushed my cheek and I almost involuntarily opened my mouth to except the huge foreign object.

"Next, you should bind your first wrist. But, before you bind your last you should slide on the one thing that brings the whole experience together... the satin blindfold."

"Ah" she said softly. "Imagine your boy friend coming home and finding you, his beautiful present, neatly wrapped and bound upon your bed." Looking deep into my eyes she smiled and added, "Let me tell you, my dear, you will not be going to sleep early on that night!"

She laughed and closed the lid of the box. I went to place it back on a shelf and she laughed again.

"No, no, my dear, you keep it", she said with a warm smile. "You do like I said with your boy friend, it's my little gift to you."

I still hadn't gotten my breathing back to normal as I started stammering out an unintelligible denial. My mind raced I couldn't possibly take this.... I don't even have a boy friend anymore...

Lucinda pooh-poohed my meaningless refusals and reached below the counter to retrieve a large plain brown shopping bag. She deftly took the box form my hands and put it in the bag. She plopped the handles of the bag around one of my still out-stretched hands and said, "That's all right, you don't have to thank me, my dear. In fact we encourage our employees to use and experiment with our products. What better advertising can we get than a glowing recommendation from one of our workers to their friends?"

My soundless mouth finally closed as I thought over the veracity of this last statement. "To that end we make this room available to everyone in our employ. You can generally keep anything in the room, with the limitation that you may only take up to two hundred dollars of product per month. For the some of the more expensive items, like the corsets and boots, we do have an extensive layaway program. Let me show you just how easy it is to buy product. You just log in to the computer at the door and record your purchase. The price, at cost of course, will be debited against your balance and that's it!"

Lucinda took me by the arm and led me back to my desk. "Well, that was enjoyable", she smiled. "Sometimes I get so involved in the business aspects of it all, that I forget the more personal side of our trade."

She smiled and then returned back to business "Oh my, I almost forgot. Don't forget to get that letter to Emerson out before the end of the day." Consulting her watch, she continued, "You had better hurry, it's already half past four." Turning on her heel she strode back purposefully to her office.

I was still basically numb, from what had happened in the storeroom. Beneath the desk I flapped my short black skirt up and down a couple of times trying to cool off the heat that had built between my thighs. Every time I thought that I had myself back in control, my leg would rub up against the shopping. Black nylon rubbing against brown paper bag somehow created quite a strong electrical shock in my hungry sex.

Groaning inwardly, I took some deep breaths and got down to work. I had to correct the letter for Lucinda. She had dictated it into her voice recorder and I had put it down on paper exactly as she had said it, but when she looked at it on paper she decided that she wanted to move things around and re-word some of the sentences. I was extremely used to this after working in a law office for almost two years, so it was easy to immerse myself in my work.

At the dot of five Lucinda was there, fortunately the printout was emerging from the laser printer just at the same time. She quickly read through it.

"Perfect, my dear", she stated. "Just get it into the last mail and you're finished for the day." She looked me in the eye and winked. "Then go home and have a pleasant evening."

I blushed profusely, lowering my eyes to avoid her gaze, but ostensibly to fold the letter and seal it into its waiting envelope. I dropped the letter into the mailbox outside the office and hurried home.

I didn't know what to do with myself when I got there. The box in the shopping bag taunted me. It was like it was calling to me. Come... come play with me.

I took it off the kitchen table and put it in my bedroom closet. Needing to get sex out of my head I slipped into one of my workout outfits, put a sweatband about my forehead and started one of my more demanding aerobic videotapes. By the time the tape ended I was breathing heavily and sweating hard.

Stripping tiredly from my soiled clothing I dropped them into the hamper and took a warm shower. The warm water was wonderfully refreshing. My relaxing mind started to think about the box in my bedroom closet. What good is it I thought dejectedly to myself; I don't have anyone to share it with. I knew I would have to do something though. Every time I thought about the beginner's bondage set a knot would form in my stomach and an impossible level of excitement would well up within me. Each time it became difficult to breathe...

I had to do something! While I was blow drying my hair an idea hit me like a physical blow. It was what Lucinda had said; a person could put herself into bondage using this kit, ostensibly to wait for her lover. Well, there wouldn't be any lover coming tonight, but that didn't mean that I couldn't try out the restraints and other stuff on myself! I finished drying myself off quickly and raced naked into the bedroom.

I grabbed the box and opened it, swiftly spilling the contents onto my neatly made bed. The bed was a full sized four-poster so it was easy to find places to attach the wrists and ankle restraints. As described, by Lucinda and in the instructions, I shortened the straps so that they would hold me spread to the four-corners of the bed. Looking down upon my completed work, I began to get a little scared. What was I leading myself into?

Deciding that I had to take some time and really think through what I was doing, I thought back to Lucinda's impassioned description of earlier in the day. She had said something about strapping yourself down naked, or her personal favorite in a bustier and panty outfit.

I had one of those I thought to myself. I had brought it looking to bring some excitement into my previous relationship. Unfortunately I purchased it during the basketball playoffs and he never even turned from the set to see me standing sexily in the doorway to the bedroom. Before he had come to bed for the evening, I had wrapped it back up and slid it into the back of my lingerie draw.

I removed the wrappings and lay the baby blue bustier which black lace trim down on the dresser. The matching panties, stockings and even the frilly finger gloves followed. By taking my time in dressing and pampering myself, I felt that I would have plenty of time to think through what I was doing.

I slipped on the lacy G-string like panties. My dark bush showed plainly through the thin nearly transparent material. I brushed my wavy auburn hair out so that it shinned with red highlights and wrapped itself around my eager face. Remembering the brunette in the catalog, I used a coffee colored lipstick and brown toned eye shadows to compliment it. I put just the faintest hint of rouge on to highlight my cheekbones and then sprayed on a little White Shoulders.

I was doing everything that I would do as I prepared myself for a lover. These simple motions, things that I had not done in quite along time, were making me hot.

I snapped myself into the tight confines of the soft blue bustier. Except for the black lace trim I could see right through the transparent lacy material. I stared at the flat of my stomach that displayed my "inny" belly button, then at my firm pointed breasts which showed off there dark circles around the nipples. I rearranged my chest in their strapless cups, showing off more of my cleavage to my imaginary lover.

Unrolling the powder blue stockings I pulled it expertly up my calf, over my knee and up to mid thigh I clipped the lace rimmed top to the bustier's attached garters. Finishing the second leg, I stood and looked into the mirror.

I posed a little and made eyes at my own reflection, but then I decided something was missing. I went to my closet and returned with a pair of black leather pumps. My party pumps I called them as their heel were just over four inches and therefore the only thing they were useful for was partying. I slid into them and now felt that the picture was complete. Now I looked just like the models in the catalog and I was perfectly ready and prepared to try out my new 'toys'.

Walking over to the bed I sat down in the middle of it. The white goose down comforter gave way to my weight and puffed up around my sitting form. I went to move my feet towards the corners of the bed and caught a heel in the soft fluffy material.

From the terrible noise it made I was certain that I had ripped it, but close examination revealed that my fears were unjustified. One to each hand I pulled off my pumps and tossed them towards the closet. I wasn't ripping my favorite bed spread for anything!

Looking down at my stocking clad feet I had the unreasonable feeling that my outfit was incomplete and I just couldn't shake it. It was also beginning to ruin the whole event. My eyes looked imploring towards the closet, at my shoe rack and the cubbies compartments that held my slippers and such...

"Yes" I said aloud in a happy voice as I jumped from the bed and ran to one of the cubbies, pulling out my soft black leather ballet-like slippers. They had a padded insole and a little bow that made them ultra feminine. I slid them on and smiled, wiggling my toes in the soft leather as they melded themselves to my feet.

I set myself back down in the center of the bed feeling perfectly ready to start my little fantasy. From my sitting position I stretched both legs towards the bottom corners of the bed. As I worked my ankles towards each of the ankle restraints I began to realize that I had placed the restraints a little further apart then I had anticipated.

Sliding down toward the foot of the bed I took the first nylon cuff in my hands. A shiver of anticipation flowed through me. I opened and closed the Velcro clasp a couple of times to see how it worked. That distinctive tearing sound as Velcro clasps were opened and closed began to take on a whole new and erotic meaning for me. I pulled against the strap and found that it would hold against all of the strength that I could muster. Satisfied I wrapped the first cuff around my right ankle closing the Velcro pads solidly against each other. The black nylon cuff hardly moved as I pulled and twisted my leg against it and its very secure attendant strap.

The left ankle was more difficult. I had to slide my rear end back towards the middle of the bed and then spread my legs almost as wide as I could stand in order to reach it. Next I had to bend over at the middle like a runner doing stretching exercises to grab the far cuff and place it about my ankle.

I sat there for a moment looking down at the restraints that separated my ankles. I had made the straps short for each of the ankle restraints, thinking that I wanted to be sure to make the bindings tight. This left less than a foot of nylon strap tethering each ankle to the bed's respective posts. I could feel the muscles in my inner thighs protesting the abuse caused by the wide open letter V that my bound legs formed. I shrugged off the slight discomfort, writing it off as part of the whole experience.

With my hands supporting me behind my back, I started to play with my new 'toys'. I rotated my feet from right to left, watching the interplay of colors and felt the sensual touch of each of the different fabrics. The black nylon cuffs were wound ever so tightly around my powder blue nylon stockings. There was very little give in the cuffs, but each move sent the feeling of the harder nylon rubbing against softer nylon stocking rocketing up my spine like a mild electric shock. I shivered and flexed my feet in the cozy interior of the soft black slippers, reveling in the feel of the warm pliable leather that surrounded them.

This type of slipper had always been my favorite. From time to time I had found them in satin, but this latest pair were made of soft kidskin. They best resembled warm up ballet slippers, minus the strap across the top of the foot. The throat was a little deeper however showing off the joining of my toes to my feet through the light blue stockings. A little lace-string bow was formed at the tip of the throat. The strings used to form this bow actually encircled my feet, holding them firmly into the slipper without the obtrusiveness of the more common strap. I loved the look of the black leather as it flexed over and around the contrasting baby blue nylons. But, I was too anxious to take any more time appreciating this beginning of what I now realized was my first bondage experience. Reaching to my left I picked up the ball gag included in the set. The instructions were of that unimaginative pencil-like drawn type of how too properly to apply the gag. Holding each of the gags straps close to the ball, as shown in the instructions, I lifted it up in front of my lips. Opening my mouth to except the cold rubber, I... chickened out.

Did I really need to gag myself to fulfill my fantasy? That ball seemed awfully big, I thought. I remembered that the only time I had ever opened my mouth up that widely was at the dentist office and that had undeniably bad connotations.

The brunette in the magazine didn't seem to have any problem with the gag, I recalled. Still needing a little moral support, I reached for the catalog that I had earlier placed conveniently on the bedside table.

In my current position though I could no longer reach it. Bending and twisting my body I finally managed to snag the magazine and flipped it open to the appropriate page. The brunette smiled invitingly at me, seeming to say 'the waters fine come on in and join me'.

Sighing, I mimicked her movements in the pictorial. Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I pressed the ball up against my teeth. Just like in the picture the ball refused to go easily beyond my pearly gate, but I was able to hold the ball with my teeth freeing up the use of my hands. I applied increasing pressure to the thick ball, pushing it into my mouth and spreading my jaws ever wider. Pop, all of a sudden the ball was past my teeth and into the interior of my mouth.

Using my tongue and fingers I maneuvered it into the most comfortable position possible. Grasping the slack straps, suspended from either side of my mouth, I tightly buckled them behind my neck. Straightening up, from looking at the magazine, I realized that the gag wasn't as uncomfortable as I had feared.

In the mirror above the dresser, I could see my reflection. My coffee colored lips were tautly stretched about the large yellow ball. The black leather straps pulled the distended corners of my mouth back even further. Yes, now I looked just like the brunette in the magazine.

I tried to talk through the mouth-filling gag and was rewarded, by a garbled and mainly unintelligible nasal whining sound. Screaming into the gag produced a small increase in the volume, but I was certain that I would be unable to be heard at any great distance.

Lucinda's instructions told me to secure one of my wrists at this point and that is exactly what I did. I had to lie flat on the bed to reach the left wrist restraint, while twisting my body sideways to be able to use my right hand to secure the cuff. I pulled at the black nylon and found that it was as well attached as my ankle bindings. Rolling back, I reached out my right hand to make sure that I could find the final strap. I looked at it as closely as I could from my fettered position, memorizing its placement upon the pillow.

Finding the black sleep mask at my side, I used my remaining free hand to slide blindfold over my head and put it into the proper position before my eyes. I pulled the elastic strap down behind my head and released it, allowing it to bury itself in my thick locks. Reaching upwards I felt for the pillow and found it. My hand slithered upwards until it found what it was looking for. Stretching I grasped the strap just beyond the cuff and held onto it tightly. I didn't try to attach the final cuff, as I knew that my imaginary lover would not be coming to rescue me from my self-imposed bondage.

I lay back soaking up all of the sensations that were filling me and exciting thoughts that ran through my mind. My body was tightly stretched across the bed. Even my well-toned muscles protested this unusual treatment. Realizing that I had made the binding just a shade to tight made me feel good, rather than bad.

Certainly my imaginary lover would not have let me get away with making my bindings so loose that they didn't convey at least a tinge of discomfort. This was called bondage wasn't it? Therefore, I reasoned, I should feel bound.

I pulled tentatively against my bonds feeling their unrelenting pressure. I could flex my legs at the knees and bend my elbows, but that was about all. Twisting from side to side was possible, but offered me no way out of my situation.

The total darkness that surrounded me added immeasurably to the experience. I could no longer see my movements, so now my ears listened intently for each and every sound that came forth from my struggles. I screamed into my gag was greeted by muffled whining noises that barely sounded human. Boy it really did work, I thought and the realization that no one could hear me raised the experience up another notch.

My mind conjured up a vision of my imaginary lover looking down upon me. His steely gaze would see the supine from of a lovely young women bound spread upon his bed. Her shapely form enhanced by the see-through baby blue bustier, the lacy g-string panties and the smooth nylon hose. Each ankle and wrist tightly graced with restraining black nylon cuffs. Warm, inviting lips widely encircling the ball gag in her mouth would remind him of other things that those sensuous lips could be stretched about.

The black satin blindfold which would proclaimed to him, 'I am yours... All of me... Do with me what you will". And finally the soft and thick white down comforter that would seem to suck his waiting damsel into to its warm inviting depths, while providing brilliant contrast to all of the other vibrant colors.

I was getting so hot immersing myself in the fantasy, but one unpleasant feeling kept intruding. My right hand, that I was using to grasp the strap, was bothering me. Partly because it was cramping a little, but mostly because without the cuff at least loosely secured, the scene was just not complete.

Working with my fingers, I moved to remedy this situation by spreading cuff open and wrapping it about my wrist. The key was to make sure that it was secure enough to hold my wrist, but still be accessible to my fingers to be opened. Holding the cuff with my fingertips I rolled my wrist against the firm pillow, stopping as soon as I heard the first touching of the Velcro fastening. I slid my fingers between the two fasteners and pushed the cuff back open, making sure that I could get myself out of what I was about to get myself into. Confident that I could do so, I re-rolled the cuffs fasteners gently together.

Finished with my task and feeling content that I had followed the scene described by Lucinda to the letter, I lay back and returned to my fantasy.

My imaginary lover moved to sit by my side. Slowly and with deft fingers he starts to slowly massage my slipper covered feet. He did not remove the soft kidskin, but rather used it to enhance the wonderful feel of his fingers kneading my soft peds. His hands moved up my leg to my right ankle caressing and rubbing the taut muscles in my calf. Firm fingers pushed into the soft skin and stretched muscles about my knee. His strong hands move slowly and inexorably upwards. Together he uses both hands to knead my inner thighs, working out the kinks in these most highly abused muscles. His fingers continue to work upon my sensitive inner thighs even after his massage is finished. His touch lightly caresses the satiny smooth nylons around the insides of my knees and again moves upward, till they almost touch the lacy strip of cloth that covers my quivering sex. I groan loudly through the gag, trying to impart to him that I need him... NOW!

But he ignores my plea, removing his hands completely form my thighs. Oh, please God let him be opening his fly! I listen intently, but hear nothing. Soon his hands return, sliding up my firm belly until they have cupped both breasts. He expertly kneads my firm mounds sending shivers of excitement coursing through my fettered form. Helpless, I twist and moan constantly under the spell of his oh so sensual ministrations.

My hips begin to gyrate wildly upon their own accord. I am hotter than I ever imagined that I could be, I need to fulfill my sexual needs and I need it now!

I slide my fingers beneath the right cuff and push upwards and was rewarded by the sound of opening Velcro. Pulling against the binding cuff, I expected it to part, but it didn't. I pulled harder and still the cuff held.

Scared, but working to remain calm, I tried again to slide my fingers between the fasteners. Again the sound of opening Velcro, but still the cuff refused to release me. In all of my rolling and gyrating I must have attached more of the Velcro than when I had started out.

Now I began to really get frightened. What was I going to do? I was thankful to know that I would not be stuck here forever, because I knew that the cleaning lady would be in on Friday and would surely find and release me. But that was a full day away and I was totally sure that I didn't want to be found bound to the bed like this, by my cleaning lady.

Frantic I really began to struggle against my nylon bindings. I used all of my muscle power straining against each of the tight cuffs one at a time. Finally I just began to thrash upon the bed hoping that one of the fasteners would work itself loose.

Totally spent I gave up on my useless struggles and layback to except my fate. I laughed to myself as I realized that I was now getting the full experience of actually being bound and not being in control of the situation. Rather than feel sorry for myself, I decided to escape back into my fantasy.

My lover had left me this way purposefully. He wanted me hot, raving hot, but unfulfilled... until such time as he desired. He kissed me about my aching jaw caressing the sore muscles, so softly and gently that I actually became glad that the gag was there. His hands moved to my breasts as his kisses continued to rain on my cheeks and neck. My breast surged against the lacy fabric rubbing gently against my nipples and causing them to snap to attention. Pushing the offending material out of the way, his thumbs and forefingers closed about the firm bullets, which topped my tits. He began to twirl them between his fingers, making the sensitive tip longer and harder. Giving them a little pinch an electric shock flowed directly from tips of my nipples to the fire burning between my legs.

Turning my wrist desperately in the right wrist cuff, I pushed my fingers as far forward under the nylon material as I could and then lifted upwards. The Velcro opening sound followed and with only a slight tug my arm escaped from its imprisonment as my hand slid through the half open cuff.

Not bothering to remove any of my other fetters, I sent my fingers down to my aching cunny. Cuming was all that I could think about. Pushing the annoying little lace triangle out of the way I tried to stimulate myself the way my imaginary lovers organ would have. Two and three fingers dived into my lower mouth at a time. In and out I pushed my hand until my muscles started to ache, but for all my efforts, I couldn't get that satisfying depth of penetration so I changed tactics.

Moving my hand to the top of my vagina I slid my fingers between my soft wet fore skin and began rubbing my G-spot. Faster and faster I rubbed and flicked that tender mound of flesh. I felt the seductive pull of my remaining bonds as my legs and arms pulled desperately against them. My hips were gyrating wildly to the beat of the rumbling orgasm that was building up within me. A fiery path swept itself through my body as I began to orgasm.

"Aaarrrggghhh", I moaned in ecstasy through the mouth-filling gag. Yes, yes, yes, YES, I thought as my fingers continued their dance and my second orgasm burst upon me. More, more I whispered to myself. I was biting down so hard on the rubber ball in my mouth that I was sure that I would either bite right through it or break my teeth before this was over.

Oh, God, yes... again I came in a thundering climax. I slowed down the pace of my swirling fingers, thoroughly enjoying the post orgasmic warmth. Unlike last night, this time I knew what I was getting into. There were no self-recriminations only the pleasant thought filling my head, that my wildest fantasy had turned out to be every bit as good as I thought it would be. I lay there totally spent, resting contentedly. To tired to even remove my bindings.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 2 - Learning the Ropes with a Twist

By the White Knight

An annoying buzzing noise brought me back to reality. As the cobwebs of my rest began to fade, I kept wondering what the damn buzzing was. With a monumental effort, I lifted my arm and removed the satin night mask. Slowly my eyes focused in the direction from which the sound was coming.

"Shit", I mumbled through the gag as my eyes popped open. The noise was my new alarm clock and it was 7:00am in the morning! I lunged for the noisome clock, but couldn't reach it. Twisting to my left I freed my wrist and then quickly removed my ankle restraints. Finally I was able to silence the racket caused by the alarm.

Unbuckling the gag, I found that I had a hard time removing it. My jaw really didn't want to open far enough to let loose the ball. Only by using my thumb and forefinger to encircle the ball behind the strap, was I able to gain the necessary purchase to pry it loose. Working quickly I stripped the bed of its nylon attachments and put all of the equipment back into its box. The closed box went into the shopping bag and was placed in the back of my walk-in closet.

Carefully, I peeled off my worse for wear bustier costume. I looked at the battered outfit and felt that it had served me well last night and it should really get a chance to be seen by my real fantasy lover. Whenever I find him, at least.

I took the hose and the rest of the outfit to the bathroom sink. Filling the basin I put in a dash of Wool Lite. Then I quickly, but carefully hand washed the fragile garments. Finishing, I left them to soak while I jumped into the shower.

As the hot steamy water revived my aching muscles, I thought of what had occurred the night before. I couldn't believe it, but the facts spoke for themselves. Not only had I very much enjoyed myself during my first bondage fantasy but I had also fallen asleep afterwards bound and gagged in my bed! This was absolutely amazing. I had barely even heard of bondage prior to the beginning of this week. In the past I hadn't even done anything sexually that was outside of the usual norms. Yet, here I was undergoing absolutely incredible orgasms while I was helplessly bound. What the heck, was going on with me?

I didn't have time to mull over all these thoughts as I had so much to do before I could be on my way to work. I rinsed out my garments, gently draining all of the excess water and then placed them all side by side along the shower curtain bar.

I went into the bedroom and quickly threw on a bra and panties. My make up came next. I decided to stay with the same colors from the prior night, as not all of it had come off in the shower. This way I knew that I could make it all blend in and no one would be the wiser. Pearl stud earnings were applied in haste. Grabbing my white short sleeve cashmere sweater shirt I slid it on. I chose black panty hose and pulled a pleated black wool skirt from the draw below. Quickly pulling on these items I raced to my closet for shoes. I almost stumbled over my party shoes and then I looked down at them and thought why not.

Despite the ache in my jaw, which had not yet dissipated, I truly felt like celebrating. I slid each of my arched soles into the black patent leather heels. The pointy heels were a little difficult to walk in, but they made me feel sexy. And just now, that was exactly how I wanted to feel.

Taking a couple of Multigrain bars and a small bottle of orange juice, I drove off to the office. It was very important that I get to the office on time because I really didn't want to loose this job. Kicking my boyfriend out had been the right thing to do, but the financial reality was that he was paying a goodly portion of our expenses. With my job also terminated, my meager savings had dwindled rapidly. I had no intention of going back to my parents or giving up my apartment and lifestyle. Therefore, I had better get my cute little tail to work.

Walking in I sat down and surveyed my desk. Even though I was coming in a half-hour early every morning, there were always new assignments on my desk when I arrived. I saw Lucinda, talking to one of the people in the art department. She smiled and nodded towards me in recognition. With a jaunty little tune from Snow White running through my mind, I set to work.

Deeply immersed in correcting a memo, I didn't notice that Lucinda had come up to my desk and was looking down at me. I flinched in surprise when she spoke.

"Good morning, my dear", she said silkily. "I trust you had a rewarding evening". I blushed like a schoolgirl, looking down, not even able to meet her gaze. "It... it... was fine", I stammered lamely. "Yes, I suppose that it must have been, my dear", she continued knowingly. "Oh, and by the way I think your outfit this morning is particularly smashing. I would however, button just one more button as the black lace of your bra stands out so much against the background of your white sweater." I looked down at my chest and realized that she was exactly right. I didn't even remember putting the sexy bra on, nor noticing that the cashmere shirt had been opened so low. My fingers nervously fastened the button.

"Perfect", she said as I finished. "Now just relax, my dear. There is no need to be nervous, believe me you are among friends." I gathered my nerve and looked up at her with a shy smile. She smiled back and with a wave of her hand she was gone.

I wondered about the bra and my unusual display of breasts. I had consciously, put on the heels as a celebration of my sexuality, but had I also unconsciously done these other things. There wasn't an easy answer to the question, so I got back to work.

Shortly after lunch I received a phone call from customer satisfaction department (read complaint). The women on the other end of the line said that she had a particularly irate customer on the phone and would I please handle it.

When I told her I didn't know what she meant and that I was a temp, she informed me that my predecessor Kay always handled the tough ones and she really didn't know where to turn. If it was part of the job, I figured that I should at least try to handle it so I told her to patch the person through.

Trying to get off to a good start with the customer, I said, "Good afternoon, my name is Sharon. How my I help you." The voice of an upset women rang through the ear piece loudly, but not yet screaming, "You can send me a product that works, is how you can help me." I paused not knowing exactly what to say, so she filled the gap by continuing, "We... I purchased, the multi pack stimulator from you and no matter how I try I can't get the damn things to stay put. I can't figure out these straps out at all, and.... well its just really driving me crazy."

I scribbled down exactly what she had said. Then I asked for the product number, as I had seen them displayed in the catalog. "Mam, I am just subbing for the person that normally works here, but I promise you that I will talk to the appropriate people and get back to you within the hour". The lady paused, and calmly said, "Thanks, that would be wonderful. My name is Karen Moran and I would really like to get this thing working before my husband comes home, so I really appreciate it your getting back to me so quickly." She left me her number and I set to work. I looked the product number up on the invoicing database screen, but that only gave me a short description and the price. From this research though I did learn that 'AT' at the beginning of the product code stood for Adult Toys. I retrieved my personal catalog from my bag, and flipped to the proper section.

Finding the product number, I could see by the picture that the 'Multi Pack Stimulator' was in fact a set of dildo's, with straps to hold them in both your vagina and asshole at the same time. The description explained that the larger penis-like one was a powerful vibrator and the smaller dildo was referred to as a butt plug. The picture showed a computer-generated rendition of what the apparatus would look like if it were held appropriately together in thin air.

The leather strap set had one thick strap going around the person's middle and multiple thinner straps running down between the legs. Nothing really showed me how it all fit together.

I went looking for any of the partners, but they all were away from their desks. The clock was ticking, so, I did the next best thing that I could think of. I went to the product room. I walked through the aisles of goods and found the shelf with a copy of the Multi Pack Stimulator. The cover of the box showed the lower half of a woman wearing it, but it wasn't clear how the thin straps were coming together to hold in the pseudo penises. Opening the box I found that the instructions were less than helpful. I personally couldn't make any sense out of the diagrams or the written instructions.

I picked the box up and set out to leave when my eyes lit on a pair of panties that were the same baby blue color as my bustier and even had black lace trim. I didn't really like the G-string that had come with the outfit so I decided to walk over and take a look. I reasoned that if I was going to save that outfit for my hopefully soon to be found lover, than I should at least pick up a pair of panties that I like to go with it. The panties were French cut and made of a soft silky material. The waist, leg openings and a strip right down the center of the crotch were highlighted with bands of sensual black lace. Picking up the delicate panty in both hands I was surprised when the crotch split open.

Oh, my God, how perfect! I quickly imagined binding myself up for my lover as I had done the night before and him being able to penetrate me without messing around with the silly G-string. I had to have them.

At the door I did as directed and 'purchased' the panties. I went to leave when I realized that I hadn't accounted for the Multi Pak. I didn't know how the inventory system around here worked, but Lucinda had been insistent that I sign out whatever I removed from the 'product closet'. Re-entering the system, I quickly charged it to myself.

Back at my desk I slid the panties into my bag and then tried to figure out the 'stimulator set'. Without putting the damn thing on, I could not begin to fathom how these thin straps would hold their charges in. I really wanted this job, but I wasn't about to walk into the toilet, insert a couple of dildo's into my nether regions, just to figure out how to properly apply the straps.

Neither Mr. Thatcher, nor Lucinda had returned to their offices, but Mr. Harrison was in. I had only barely met the man and was a little nervous about going to talk to him about such a sensitive issue. I laughed at myself, when I realized what I had been thinking. Heck, this is what people do here so this could hardly be called a sensitive subject. Never the less I was still a little uncertain.

I knocked on his open door and said quickly, "Could you help me with a customers problem that I am trying to resolve." Looking up from what he was writing at, he smiled at me and responded, "Sure I can, young lady. Step right in and take a seat. I won't be a minute, but I would just like to finish this thought." He looked back down at his work and I did as instructed and sat down at on the sofa near the coffee table. His office was a lot like Mr. Thatcher's, but where Mr. Thatcher had plants he had paintings. Sunset at a lighthouse with water splashing about its rock base, seascapes and a few sailing ships decorated his walls.

Gazing down at the coffee table I spotted a copy of the company's catalog. I couldn't help but stare at the lovely brunette on the cover. "She really is a beauty, isn't she young lady?" he said warmly as he sat down opposite me.

"Excuse me", I responded looking up to meet his eyes.

"The brunette you were looking at so intently", he prompted me.

"Yes", I answered honestly, "She is very beautiful".

He sighed lightly and said, "Yes, she is at that. You know you look an awful lot like Samantha." I didn't know what to say, so I just gave him a shy little smile. "Yep, when Michael called me and told me that we had hit the jackpot with the temp the agency had sent over, he also said that your were almost the spitting image of his wife. Now that I see you up close, I can tell he was right." I had been blushing from the praise; I was receiving when all of what he said hit me. "His wife..." I stammered before I could stop myself.

"Sure is", he answered, "They've both worked here, in one way or another, for years." He looked at me and could see my obvious interest, "How about a I tell you a little background about this company, my dear?" I nodded my head quickly.

He stood up looking off in the distance for a moment, before he turned back to me. He had such an engaging manner about him that I could not turn away. He was the oldest of the three partners, probably around his late 40's, but he seemed to act like everyone's friendly father. His crusty warm voice told this tale.

"I started the company back in '82. I was a salesman at the time and I saw what all of the other mail order catalogs were doing were doing in this field and I thought to myself that I could do it better. Well, I spent the next five years building this company up with very little staff and hardly any money to spare.

One day I get a call from this firecracker, Michael. He's a young 27, with an MBA and he's working for one of the competition. He's in finance and he convinces me that it would be a good idea if we could meet.... You see he was trying to get me to sell my company. I knew that of course, but he was paying for lunch so I agreed. We hit it off from the moment we met. It was like I had known him forever and we were life long friends. Instead of just cutting him off at restaurant, like I had planned, I brought him back to the warehouse that I was running the business out of back then. I showed him around and he looked closely at just about every product that I offered to the public. He commented on the quality of the products and said that my line was much better and more extensive than his own firms. He left me that day with a hearty handshake telling me he would call, but I never thought that I would see him again.

Two weeks later I came to work as usual and found Michael sitting on the stoop in front of the warehouse. 'I want to come work for you', he said to me flat out. I told him he was crazy, that the business was only throwing off barely enough money to support me. I couldn't very well afford to pay someone of his caliber's salary. He wouldn't be swayed. Said, he would work for nothing if he had to, but he felt that he belonged here. He also said that he had a lot of ideas how he could financially turn around the company. Heck, what did I have to lose? So we shook hands and he was on board.

He did things that I would never believed possible. Made us a real company for one thing, which greatly changed our tax picture, but that was just the start. He bowled over the bankers and the zoning boards, getting us money and space for expansion. In six months we had made such strides, that not only could we expand, but we could also afford to feed ourselves.

That's about when his wife showed up. It was Sam who actually changed the complexion of the company to what it is today. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Like I said we were still short of money and couldn't afford the clerks, accountants and secretaries we really needed to run our expanding company. Michael and I worked long hours, everyday and often worked on weekends. So there she was one Saturday handling the bills, in a loose sleeveless sweet shirt, shorts and sneakers, she was about your age at the time.

When I had been introduced, she told me that she was tried of not seeing her husband. So if she couldn't see him at home, at least she could be with him here.

She was a godsend. Got all of our paper work in order by organizing a platoon of college kids that were looking for summer employment. Her husband's idea, but she made it happen.

One weekend Michael and I were doing the manual labor of actually unloading a truck of our catalogs into the warehouse. Sam sat there during lunch leafing through the catalog. When we finally sat down, tried and hot from our exertions. She looked at us both and flipped the catalog onto the table. 'That thing is not going to sell your products', she said disdainfully. We looked at her dumb founded and started to make negative noises... 'It doesn't sell me and I don't think it will sell your other customers either', she said positively certain of her position. Not wanting to insult her, but totally exasperated, I asked what was wrong with it and what we she would do to fix it.

She felt that it was geared strictly towards a male viewpoint. Yes, males were the most pre-dominate benefactors from our products, she agreed, but it was women who more often then not made the purchases. She cited the customer mail that was almost 90% from women, either praising or complaining about our products.

We had to make the catalog 'female friendly', she proclaimed.

"How?" I asked again.

To start with I would change the cover. Look at it, block letters and a picture of a lovely smiling woman in skimpy lingerie. We are not Frederick's of Hollywood and we shouldn't make ourselves look like it. On a blank piece of computer paper she drew a heart. She put two stick drawings in the heart and labeled them lace and leather. In Script about the top of the heart she wrote Leather and Lace, Inc., then used her pencil to shade in the background on the page. Her husband took the pencil from her when she finished and gave the heart a double outline, made it look like rope with a knot at the top. Samantha explained her idea which, as you can see, has been the tone of our cover ever since. In fact the cover on this years catalog and many of the other pictures inside are a tenth anniversary reprint of that groundbreaking catalogue.

She also pointed out that with the exception of the lingerie section, none of the rest of the products were modeled at all. I told her that there were pornography laws against, such things and we could not do that. No of course we can't show vaginal or anal penetration, but how about a picture of a woman getting a sexy massage with oil gleaming on her back. And what about all of the bondage equipment, it just lays there in the catalog like it was in some museum showcase. I'll bet you there are no laws about showing someone modeling wrist or ankle cuffs, collars or blindfolds.

Her husband and I looked at each other and back at Sam and we knew that she was right. We would have to re-shoot at least part of this catalog, Michael said to me. How, I asked. Where will we get the money for the reprinting and where are we going to get models that will agree to these types of pictures? Michael said that he would get the money and Sam said that she would find the models.

The next Saturday, as agreed, we all met at the photographer's studio. I was dismayed to see Sam walk in with only one of our normal models. "Is this all you could get", I asked dejectedly. 'What more do you need", she replied, "than a blond and a brunette." I looked behind her for the brunette, and then I realized what she meant. "You don't mean to say..." I began. Before I could say anymore she had stripped off her standard college sweatshirt top. Sam had a perfect size six body, with flat stomach and large firm breast, which her orange bikini top barely held in check. I looked over at her husband he smiled and said, "It was her idea and once my wife has made up her mind its damn near impossible to change it."

"But the bondage equipment..." I asked incredulously.

Michael looked sheepishly at the floor. I turned my gaze back to his wife. Sam turned to the blond and asked her to go get ready for the shoot. When she turned back to me, she said flat out, 'My lord and master over there, is a true bondage enthusiast. I love him so I go along for the ride.' I looked aghast at what this beautiful young woman was saying to me. She patted me on the arm and said to me, 'Harry, its OK. This isn't the first time that I've worn leather restraints and as long as I stay married to this old lunk (she reached over and gave Michael's arm a squeeze) it probably won't be the last time.'

She was right of course. Her and Mary, the blond, worked through the weekend. About a hundred of the thousands of shots that the photographer took ended up in the catalog. Sales boomed that year and we have been growing ever since. I tried to get Sam to come on board as marketing director, but she refused. Said she wasn't qualified, but she would look for someone that was. That's where Ms. Grant came from. Samantha contacted countless agencies and interviewed hundreds of executives before she presented us with Lucinda.

"And that pretty much is that, as they say", he finished. "Thanks for listening to an old dog like me. Every once and awhile its nice to relive your beginnings, but what was it you needed my help with, dear lady?" I beamed at him and thanked him for telling me the company's history and then I outlined the customer's problem. I finished by telling him the steps that I had taken trying to figure out the problem for myself.

"What did you conclude after your research?" he asked with interest. I hemmed and hawed not wanting to demean the instructions.

"Go on, you can tell the honest truth to 'ol Harry?'"

'First I didn't understand, why the product just didn't use one thicker strap between the legs', I began, 'but excluding that, I concluded that I wouldn't be able to figure out how to use it without putting it on myself.'

'Exactly', he exclaimed excitedly. 'Let me see those instructions", he asked. I handed them over and he read them quickly. "Unnhhh, Unnhhhh, Uuuunnnnhhh", he mumbled to himself. 'A man wrote these, not someone as you so aptly put it 'who had put it on themselves!'

"Now here are the answers to your questions", he said like a knowledgeable college professor. 'First, we do have a similar product with a single strap down the center. Its more functional, but a lot less pretty. Therefore we sell a lot more of these, remember women are a main consumer and pretty sells.' He paused for a second to catch his breath, 'Second, take the vibrator and the butt plug out of the box'. A little nervously, I did as instructed. Holding one in each hand.

'Now turn them upside down and look at their bottoms. At the base of each of the fake penises there was a thicker piece of plastic, with a thin lateral opening at the top and another shelf below.

'The idea is to fit the thin leather straps into the notch in the bottom', he took the vibrator from me and pulled the four leather strips out of the box. He slid in the fist strap and than quickly the others, the straps slid between the two pieces of plastic and were held in place by the opposing solid 'L' like projections beneath the base. Holding only the straps, he shook the eight-inch cock up and down, yet none of the straps popped out of its holder.

'You see', he asked. I smiled like a schoolgirl and said, 'Yes, Yes, now it makes sense.' Putting all of the pieces back into the box I made to leave, thanking him for everything, and saying that I had to get on the phone to the customer from Texas.

His voice stopped me as I reached the door, 'Just two things before you go, young lady. First, explain how it works to the customer but warn her that it's easy enough to get in, but it's the getting it out that can be tricky. Tell her not to try to take the straps out while the dildo's are still in her, I am told that it is nearly impossible.

Simply undo the waist belt and remove them one at a time.' He paused. 'Second, write a draft of how the instructions should read, using what I have told you as your basis. Give it to me tomorrow afternoon and then I will go have a little talk with our copy department manager.'

Going back to my desk, I called Karen from Texas, and explained how the gizmo worked. I also gave her the warning as directed by Mr. Harrison. She thanked me profusely. Then in a whispery voice she confided in me, that she was playing a game with her husband. He had requested that she be stripped on the bed when he got home, with the Multi Pack Simulator running and a blindfold on so that she wouldn't know when he arrived. As he put it, she further explained, 'He wants me so hot when he gets there that he'll think he's riding a wild bronco! Oh, oh, I've got to go and get ready. Bye and thanks again.'

Finished with that, I resumed my normal workload. A lot of which had unfortunately backed up. It wasn't until almost five o'clock that I started to work on re-writing the instructions. Looking at the way the current instructions were written, I couldn't easily figure out how to mimic that same style. Trying to write them from scratch was equally difficult as I kept coming up with questions.

A little after five o'clock, Mr. Thatcher came out of his office and told me to go home. There isn't anything that you are doing now that won't wait until the morning, he assured me. Staring at the unfinished assignment in front of me, I decided not to argue and folded my notes and put them into my bag. From the box under the desk, I retrieved the instructions. Then in a burst of inspiration I figured that I might need any one of the pieces of equipment to examine while I wrote the instructions for their usage. I pushed everything into my bag.

At home I went through my normal routine. Aerobics, shower and then food. When I was finished with my dinner, I sat down at the small kitchenette and opened my bag. I retrieved my notes and the instructions. Next I laid out each of the pieces and set them on the table before me. My newly acquired panties tumbled out of my bag with the other equipment, so I neatly folded them and put them aside. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine how that customer from Texas would have done it. Nothing. Maybe I just wasn't cut out to be a writer of instructions I consoled myself.

All I could see behind my closed eyes was a blindfolded female, bucking like a bronco, beneath her husband's touch. Then I kept coming back to what Harry had said earlier, you couldn't properly explain how to use the product, unless you had used it yourself. I looked down at the assorted equipment and my new panties lying on the table and smiled devilishly to myself. 'Why not', I said to myself, 'I've already paid for it.'

Moving everything into the bedroom, I laid each of the items out neatly on top of my bureau. From the closet I removed my bondage set and put that equipment on the bed. The bustier and stockings had already been removed from the bathroom, prior to my shower. I took the bustier from my lingerie draw, I saw that it could probably use a little ironing, but now was not the time to for it.

I would make everything as it was the night before with the exception that this time I would add the 'Nitro charged Multi Pack Stimulator' to my ensemble.

First I put on my new panties. The silky nylon panels were not see-through like the rest of the bustier, but the baby blue color was a perfect match. Despite the fact that it was unusual to be wearing panties that were split from stem to stern, I still liked them much more than the G-string. The material was smooth and even the lace was softer and much more comfortable than its less expensive predecessor had been. Machine made nylon lace can tend to be very scratchy, but this lace, that gently rubbed my pussy with every move, was more little a sweet caress. I vowed to myself, to get as much of the companies superior products as I could, before my brief tenure ran out.

I fixed my hair and make up. Snapped myself into the bustier and slid into the hose. Retrieving my favored slippers, I put them on also. Looking at myself critically in the mirror, I decided that I passed muster, but with a devilish smile I added small amounts of perfume in all the places that a man would love to find them. A sprits behind my ears, in the cleavage of my breasts and down between my aching thighs. Oh god, I wanted a man! That was something else that I vowed to rectify.

Moving to the bed, I efficiently set up the restraints. It was a lot easier the second time around. The comforter was off, this time and destined for the laundry. Taking off my clothes before showering I had noticed a familiar smell in the air. It came from the bed. I did not see any wet spots, but my hand did find a damp area were some of my secretions must have fallen.

Soft flannel sheets covered the bed. Pink, with little white hearts. I placed a pink hand towel in the center of the bed, just were I expected my butt to rest, to make sure the sheets were safe. Surveying my handy work, I could find no flaw, nor could I think of any other things to do that would keep me from my next groundbreaking step.

I stared at the pieces of the stimulator set. I wasn't sure that I wanted to do this, but God how I wanted to experience what Karen from Texas was feeling. Still in the back of my mind it was a bit little scary.

I had never really used a vibrator or a dildo. Only at slumber parties in my teen years had I ever even seen them, but I was much too timid at the time to even hold it to my crotch like some of the other girls did. This is what you get from a sheltered up bringing, I thought to myself.

Not stalling any longer, I picked up the thick leather waist strap and buckled it tightly in place. Positioning myself appropriately, I looked over my shoulder into the dresser mirror. On the back of the black three-inch thick strap were four D-rings from which the thin leather straps were suspended. I adjusted the belt a little to the left so that the dangling cords were evenly spaced across my rear end. Now came the hard part.

The directions had said to put the butt plug in first, but I couldn't bring myself to do this. I had never had anything go into my anal passageway that wasn't medically related and I wasn't about to make that my first step. I picked up the vibrator, instead. It was described as being eight inches long and I didn't doubt it one bit. Only one of the few lovers that I had had in my short adult life, had sported a penis this long and his hadn't been as wide as this pseudo one.

Leaning my butt up against the bureau, I gathered my courage and put my free hand between my legs. Pushing the lacy material further apart I was gratified to feel that the excitement of getting ready had already begun to make me wet.

Closing my eyes I fantasized about being bound upon the bed with my imaginary lover lapping voraciously at my warm, all so deserving, sex. I stopped my ministrations reluctantly, as I felt properly lubricated and didn't want to waste a good orgasm. Using both hands, I maneuvered the head of the rubber cock against my waiting lower lips. Pushing slowly forward, I grunted as it first went in. Changing the angle slightly I continued to push the thick penis into me. Before it had gotten all the way in it stopped and seemed to refuse to go any further.

Pushing harder and twisting, I sighed happily, as I saw the base settle firmly against my vagina. I could feel my muscles tensing around the fake cock, seemingly trying to push the invader out. This gave me understanding into why the straps were needed. Without the use of my hands to hold it in, eventually the false cock would be expelled from my warm slick opening, especially once it started vibrating.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the insertion of the butt plug. The directions mentioned the application of K-Y jelly to my rear entrance, prior to using the plug or in lieu of that Vaseline. I didn't have any idea what K-Y jelly was, so I got out some Vaseline. I first reached between my legs to find my rear entrance. This I did, but I also found out that it was very difficult to get around the base of the vibrator to get to it! I tried again and realized that the directions had been right.

Dejectedly I pulled out the vibrator. Oh, I loved those squishy, sucking sounds it made as it left its new home. They reminded me of memories of hardened manhood sliding in and out of my all so happy love tunnel.

Applying the Vaseline was now a snap. I put plenty around the entrance and even used my index finger to push some of the slippery substance into the tight little hole. I held the smaller and slimmer penis with both hands. It was made of a stiffer rubber than the vibrator. I realized why as soon as I began to press the head against my bunghole. It didn't want to go in!

'Great', I laughed to myself, 'I've got the only dildo in the world that's afraid of the dark.' I bent over and pushed harder and then even harder... I straightened and gasped involuntarily, as with a pop it finally made its way inside. Taking more deep breaths, I bent again and worked to push it the rest of the way in.

It refused to budge and the pressure I was exerting in that region, was not what I would describe as pleasurable. Thinking that it was like the vibrator, I tried twisting and turning it but to no avail. The fact was that all the pressure that I could bring to bear was just not sufficient to get the job done.

Not to be stopped in my quest, I waddled over to the dresser. Standing on tiptoes I straddled the corner and placed the base of the dildo against it. I braced the base firmly against the edge with one hand and balanced myself with the other. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't want to do it. Feeling the arching of my feet begin to tire, I looked down to see my soft leather slippers arched to my feet like their ballet counterparts that they resembled. Closing my eyes, I gave up my struggle and let my own weight push the dildo into me.

'Oh, Ohhh, Ohhhhh,' I moaned in surprise as I let it force its way into me bit by bit. Now I knew what it was like to be impaled!

`Ohhhhh', I sighed as the thicker middle made it's way into me and then the rest followed quickly.

Hurrying, I slipped the vibrator back in with very little difficulty. I thought at one point that I could feel the two penis' pressing against each other through my thin inner walls, but I really wasn't sure. Drawing the first strap between my legs, I understood why the customer from Texas had had problems.

It seemed easy in Mr. Harrison's office sliding the cord into the slot in the base, but this exercise was anything but easy. If you had your lover to help you it would be a cinch, but self-use was a trial.

Bending over I had to use my fingers to first find the slot, then work the cord into it. The problem was multiplied, because of working from back to front you had to work around the base of the vibrator to secure the butt plug first. Also getting both of the notches to line up without being able to see what you were doing, was a nightmare. Let me tell you, that there are few things more difficult then bending over at the waist while you have dildo's buried within your vagina and buttocks!

Finally I got all four cords through each of the appropriate openings. I used the small chrome buckles on the front of the belt to attach the thin straps. I made sure that they were tight, simply because I had gone to too much work to see one of these orifice filling dildo's slide out by accident.

Sitting down on the bed I quickly attached my ankles to the opposite corners of the bed. The gag came next. At first my mouth refused to be pushed to the limit needed to enclose the ball, but just when I thought it would not work the ball popped into place. The buckle caught in my hair, for a second, but was quickly freed.

I then used my left hand to apply the cuff to my right wrist. This was the fail-safe method that I had learned after my previous evening's exertions. All I had to do was leave the cuff a little loose. Loose enough that if I relaxed my hand it could slide through the cuff. Also as long as I kept my right hand formed into a fist, it wasn't going anywhere.

The blindfold was applied and then my remaining free hand traveled down between my thighs. By feel I found the base of the vibrator, between the numerous cords, and the switch that would empower it. I didn't know what to expect, but I had my own ideas. I flicked the switch on.

Quickly, I moved my wrist to the final cuff and rolled it tightly into its restraint. My bondage complete and all of the other accessories in place, I lay back to embrace the entire experience. But, as soon as my focus was off that action, I began to feel the motions of the vibrator. It was aptly named as it did exactly what its name suggested, that is it gave off a constant vibration. However, I had had no previous experience in this area and I didn't truly understand how that simple thrumming was going to effect me.

"Oooooo", I mumbled around the yellow ball. All of my actions up to this point had been building the excitement within me. Right from the very start just the thought that I was going to bind myself, virtually helplessly, to the bed made me hot. Each additional adornment, such as the sexy lingerie, the gag, blindfold and especially the Multi Pack Stimulator added to the intensity of my arousal. Within seconds of activating the quivering cock I was on fire.

The rubber penis in my lower mouth, rubbed vigorously against the G-spot just within my widely spread lips and all up and down my sensitive inner walls. This by itself would have been more than enough to send me over the top, in my already excited state, but that wasn't all that was happening to me.

"Uummmphh, Uummpppphh", I said despite the gag. The gag was forgotten as a gut wrenching volcanic orgasm built within my enflamed body. Arching my back I thrust my pelvis skyward, which despite my restrained position, lifted my ass entirely off the bed. The vibrator shook the most at its base. Those taut cords that I had pulled through the base of the pseudo penises were also vibrating. I could feel the narrow straps thrumming against my flat stomach and tight buns, sort of like a guitar string that had been plucked. These same cords also passed through the base of the butt plug, which gave the same effect as having two instead of one vibrator in me.

My hips thrust upward on there own accord, my mind no longer in control. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhhh", I moaned gutturally into the heavy ball. The softer motions of small penis in my anal canal were something I had never experienced and the combination was driving me crazy. My hands were balled into fists so tightly that they hurt. My slippers dug into the bed allowing my knees to flex and let my pelvis go wild. Strong leg muscles felt as taut as steel cables.

In minutes the fire between my legs was an inferno and yet it still built. My breathing was coming in gasps and I thought the pressure between my wildly spread legs was going to kill me. "Ohhhh God, Ohhhhhhh God, Ohhhhhhhh Yes. Yessss. Yessssss", I mumbled incoherently as I came in the blockbuster of all orgasms. I thrashed from side to side, ripping at my restraints with all of my strength. The waves of release continued to crash into me like breakers against a rocky shore. More and more waves swept through me, until my sexually charged body tingled from the roots of my hair to the leather covered toes of my feet.

I screamed with delight into my gag as the monstrous orgasm finally ended. As my body began to relax, in the warm after glow of sexual release, the thought that I had died and gone to heaven filled my mind.

The large prick bound into my body had other ideas than letting me relax, though. The constant vibrations did not cease with my orgasm. The cords did not stop there thrumming and the plug in my rear passage way did not cease its seductive motions. Rather than bask in release, I could feel my body tensing towards another round.

At that point I almost released my wrist and stopped the process before it got really underway, but I stopped myself. Would my imaginary lover turn off my strapped in vibrator after only one set of orgasms? I doubted it.

It took a little longer this time. My strength had been taxed during the first go round, so I couldn't keep my butt lifted off the bed. This slightly retarded the motions of the butt plug. The muscles in my inner thighs were sore from the strain of being spread so widely, combined with my earlier pelvis thrusting, and they just wanted to rest. The base of the vibrator continued to vibrate viciously against my G-spot. Soon I was shifting my buttocks from cheek to cheek, which intensified the building fire. Higher, higher, higher the pressure built...

"Yeeesssssss", I screamed once more as the wave spread through my body. I pulled at my restraints, making my whole body as taut as the skin on a drum.

"Ohhhh, Yessssss", I murmured, loving life and everything about it. Again and again the waves passed through me, not as intense as the previous orgasms, but marvelous just the same. Once again the sexual release subsided, and this time I really wanted to relax and enjoy it.

The vibrations of the fake penis were beginning to be uncomfortably insistent. This time however, I didn't feel the building of the orgasms that I come to expect. It just seemed to get me to a very high level of excitement, but not take me over the peak. The excitement that at first was fun in the warmth of my last orgasm became down right annoying. The fake vibrating cocks motions became onerous rather than sensuous.

Before the entire mood was ruined, I opened my right fist and slid through its attendant cuff. Quickly, I reached down and switched off the tiresome vibrator. Ah, much better, I thought to myself. My body was tired and spent, but that warm after glow of the two wonderful sets of orgasms made me feel great. I just lay there for a few minutes basking in my glorious state.

Reaching, over to my left wrist I undid it's bindings. I inched the satin night mask upwards onto my forehead, but did not remove it. Using both hands I undid the gag and placed it on the bedside table. I checked the alarm and turned it to the on position. Using a blanket I had earlier set besides the bed, I covered myself from toes to torso. Attaching my right restraint appropriately, I then lowered my mask and carefully bound my remaining wrist.

In the warm after math of my personalized love making session, I lay contentedly in my restraints. Luxuriating in the feel of my bondage and ensemble as I drifted off to sleep.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 3 - The Wager: Part I

By the White Knight

When I sat down at my desk on Friday morning, I found two notes. One was from Mr. Harrison, telling me to set up a meeting with the head of the copy department for 10:00am on Monday, as his schedule was too cramped to fit it in today. He added that he would like to review my version of the instructional documentation first thing Monday morning. The second note was from Mr. Thatcher asking me to see him as soon as I arrived.

Using a compact mirror I checked my face and hair. Smoothing my skirt as I stood I walked to his office and knocked on the open door. He smiled as he looked up from some pictures he was reviewing.

"Good morning, my dear", he said warmly. "Please take a seat." He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. I sat down and returned his greeting. He asked me how I was getting along now that my first week was nearly up. I responded truthfully that I was enjoying working for Leather & Lace very much. Mr. Thatcher was pleased to hear that and went on to tell me that all of the partners were extremely pleased with my work in general and especially the way that I really put all of myself into my assignments.

Then he launched into an explanation of a new project that he would like me to work on. It seems that the company was going to add a new line of 'bondage kits'. Not like the nylon restraints that I had, but kits that would form a set of stocks, a suspension frame, a padded saw horse, something called a St. Greg's cross and more. He empathized that as much as possible of the construction would be handled by our sub-contractor to make the assembly as easy as possible for our customers. He went on to tell me that the company received thousands of requests per year asking if we knew where they could get wooden constructs such as these. If there were thousands making this request, there were probably multiple thousands interested, he reasoned.

All of the kits would require sets of restraints to be included with them. Therefore we as a company were going to need more leather straps, cuffs, collars and belts in a whole variety of sizes, shapes and colors. My role was to help put together a computerized slide presentation that would be used to convince our leather sub-contractor to reduce or at the very least hold their current prices, due to the increased volume. This was very important to the company, because there had been rumors that prices on leather goods were going to go up a minimum of ten per cent this year.

As he finished his little speech, he came around from behind his desk and rested his hand on my shoulder. If anyone else had done that I would have read him the riot act, but from Mr. Thatcher you could tell it was not a sexual move, just something to bring two people closer. He looked deep into my eyes and said, "We are going to need your `all' on this project. In the past we have always depended on your predecessor, Kay, to handle these assignments. She isn't here and you are, so we really need your help to make this work." Meeting his strong concerned gaze, I told him not to worry and that I was sure that I could handle the job. Fantastic he responded, and then as he escorted me to the door, he informed me that someone from the advertising group would be E-mailing me the pictures to be used in the presentation.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. I began the project by taking the provided computerized pictures and placing them into a Power Point slide show.

It was slow going to make the pictures look exactly correct and they need to be shuffled and re-shuffled to keep up with the ever-changing sales pitch. It was fun in a way because Mr. Thatcher worked with me closely. Looking over my shoulder at the screen to make suggestions and requests. He always had a warm smile and a word of praise to reward my efforts.

Quitting time came and I hurried home. I maintained my normal schedule of aerobics, shower and a light supper. I knew that I didn't have a lot of time for fun and games tonight because I had agreed to go out with one of my few remaining girl friends, Marcy, to a nearby nightclub. I say few remaining, because many of my friends had been mutual friends of my previous boyfriend, so my list of friends had dwindled dramatically.

Our night out was basically a bust. We were both dressed in moderately sexy mini dresses, so we had quite a few males interested in us. Unfortunately, they basically fell into two categories; the preppies that were so impressed with themselves and felt that you should be also and the wolves that did everything but drool as they pictured you naked.

We left shortly after mid-night. I invited Marcy in for a drink and we sat in the living room, sharing are standard lament, 'where have all the good men gone'. Sipping white wine we talked about what would make the perfect man. As I spoke more and more I found myself using Mr. Thatcher as my role model. He was taken, of course, but somehow I needed to find myself a younger version of the same mold.

I went to bed a little worse for drink. Feeling sorry for myself, Samantha had her Michael, where was my partner I asked the universe? I am in no way a Holy roller, but I do believe in God, so my last thought for the night was a prayer to Him to help me find my perfect mate.

I didn't get out of bed until noon the next day. Then I forced myself to do all of those little chores, which had piled up during the week. Dry cleaning, laundry, food shopping and house hold cleaning. This done I decided that I had one thing that I had to do for work before beginning anything else, for my own pleasure. Of course the job I had in mind to do, could of course be viewed as pleasure, but that just made my work all the more enjoyable. My assignment was to come up with a better way to put on that Multi Pack Stimulator.

The way I had done it on Thursday worked, but the difficulty I had encountered could be viewed as a real turn off to the customer. So at four-thirty in the afternoon I stripped naked in my bedroom and calmly surveyed the pieces of equipment that I had laid out on the bed.

Inserting both of the dildo's into myself and then trying to put the laces in had been a bust as far as I was concerned, there just had to be a better way. I picked up the butt plug and looked at it. This had to go in first, that I knew. But, what if the laces were already secured into the base of the dildo's before I began I wondered. Then I would just have to insert the two of them and buckle the straps to finish the process. I threaded the thin cords through both dildo's but each time I tried put in the butt plug in I would always drop the vibrator which would slide off the straps. After multiple variations I finally got it right.

First, I buckled the thick belt about my waist and then I reached between my legs and grabbed the dangling cords. Holding the butt plug in front of me, I threaded the thin straps into it and pushed it into my anal passageway, using the end of the dresser impalement method. Grabbing the dangling cords once more I inserted them through the base of the vibrator and then pushed it home.

Needless to say I had already greased the way for my rubber friends. Finally I buckled them tightly into place. Perfection, I sighed in happiness at my achievement.

They felt good in my nether regions, so I decided to keep them in as I wrote up the instructions on how to use them. It seemed apropos to me. I walked gingerly into the living room, not wanting to walk too quickly or take strides that were to long, because of what the movement caused my buried buddies to do to me. An interesting feeling to say the least, but I baby stepped my way into the room and sat down on the floor before the coffee table. I loved to sit on the floor there and write at the small table. Today I had to sit sort of sideways, on only one cheek, but I still loved the experience. The thick shag rug felt soft and yummy against my bare skin and tickled me in places that it normally wouldn't be able to touch. Within an hour I had things pretty much the way I wanted them. All I had to do was type it up on Monday morning and give it the Mr. Harrison as soon as I was done.

The little bit of walking that I had to do with the dildo's strapped into me had interested me very much. Subtle changes in my walk, especially putting a little more swing into my hips, sent them into the most exciting of motions. So I decided to try a real bump and grind walk while wearing them. The best way to do this is to put one foot in front of the other and shifting the hips in sync with your feet. Doing this in bare feet was OK, but a true bump and grind needed high heels. I put on my party shoes and pranced around the house, each bump and each grind sending tingles through my body. I found myself cupping my breasts in my hands and squeezing the tips of my nipples. Without much warning I felt an orgasm nearing. I quickly lay down on the plush shag carpet and turned on the vibrator. Using my fingers I helped myself achieve climax in a matter of seconds. When my orgasm ended I quickly switched off the vibrator and just lay back to enjoy the feeling.

The remainder of the weekend went by quietly. I played with my toys from time to time and experimented with different ways to use my cuffs. Sunday night I rewarded myself for working on Saturday, by sleeping bound to the bed.

Monday, was total chaos. I barely had time to type up my instructions and put them in Mr. Harrison's mail, before everything went crazy. Lucinda and Mr. Thatcher had together asked me if I would be willing to work late this week to complete the presentation. I agreed, knowing that I would get paid overtime past five. To show how happy they were, they decided to throw in a bonus. They were going to increase my product room allowance from the standard $200 dollars, up to salesmen level of $500. I smiled and thanked them. No, it wasn't money in my pocket, but it showed me that they cared about my contributions.

The whole office seemed focused on this presentation. We worked non-stop from nine until eight that night. Just before lunch Mr. Harrison came over and thanked me for a 'great job' on the instructions. He also told me that the Copy Department director was very impressed with my work also, and when my current job finished he might be able to find a place for me. I beamed from ear-to-ear and thanked Mr. Harrison for the opportunity. He told me that I had earned it, and to think nothing of it.

Everyday that week went like this. Up even earlier than normal. Get to the office by eight in the morning and leave at about eight at night. Go home do my aerobics, shower and eat. Then I would read a book, or if I had any energy left over, thumb through the company catalog. I basically decided that I wanted to overhaul my lingerie collection and I was trying to decide what to buy. I often fell asleep dreaming of the soft sexy creations.

One day as I ate lunch at my desk, Lucinda spotted me looking through the catalog. She came over and asked me, 'Have you decided what you want to purchase yet?' Closing the catalog I told her that I hadn't. I told her my basic idea as my eyes wandered back down to Samantha's shapely body on the catalog.

'Why don't you get one of those?' she asked. It took me a few seconds to understand that she was talking about the corset.

'Oh no, I couldn't....', I began demurely. 'Of course you can', Lucinda responded as she took my hand.

She led and I felt compelled to follow. She took me directly to the women in charge of fashion, Andrea was her name, and said that I was interested in a corset. I blushed when Andrea looked me over.

She called over an older woman who began to take my measurements. I thought they would just need the standard three, but she took more like ten. Marking them down on a chart by her side. Andrea looked to me and asked, "What do you want the corset to look like". I gave a lost shrug and told her I had no idea. Lucinda spoke up for me, 'I think she should start with a satin model, leather can come later. She strikes me as the slightly modest type so go with the half-cup. Give her a four-inch pull with double lacing. Six garters not four.' Andrea's assistant wrote this all down quickly.

Lucinda pointed to one of the corset clad mannequin torsos, "That's basically what I'm describing, go take a look. I really think that you will love it, my dear'.

I walked over to the mannequin and looked the corset over. I touched the soft sensuous satin, marveling at the feel. As my fingers traveled around it I felt the firm ribbing. I stopped there and traveled the ribbing with my fingers. From behind me Andrea pointed out that all of the ribbing was stainless steel now and was much better then whale bone. I asked for and was given a measuring tape with which I measured the waist, twenty inches, pretty tight I thought.

Lucinda saw what I was doing and said, "Your customized corset will actually have an eighteen inch waist." I looked at her stunned. "You have a twenty-two inch waist and I am requesting a four inch pull, that leaves eighteen inches."

I was having a hard time imagining wearing something that was going to squeeze my middle that small when Andrea chimed in. "That's the smallest pull we offer, young lady. Some people opt for more pull, but I think that a 'four pull', for short, would be best to start with.'

I nodded my head not knowing what to say. "Now what color, would you like your corset to be", asked Andrea. I looked back at the model on the mannequin and replied, 'Exactly like that'. Bright red with black side panels and lace trim about the hem. It was beautiful and I couldn't wait to try it on. Lucinda spoke to Andrea quietly. I was told that they would start work on it immediately, and that I would have to come in for three fittings. It would be ready in two to three weeks.

Leaving I wondered if I had used up my entire bonus on that one item. I knew from the catalog that custom corsets started at $350 and went up from there. I mentioned this to Lucinda and she said that she had already asked the same questions of Andrea, who had assured her that the garment would come in under $250. My mouth dropped open. Lucinda smiled at me and reminded me that I was paying cost for all items I purchased. 'How much would it have cost without my discount?', I asked. 'Oh, somewhere around $500 or $550', she answered off handily.

'By the way my dear', Lucinda continued. 'You just purchased the entire corset set, that includes two sets of seamed hose, a pair of satin elbow length gloves and a pair of shoes. Boots are extra, but don't worry, I am sure that we can find you something interesting in our shoe selection.

Going back to work was difficult at first, because all I could think of was the red satin corset. The amount of assignments that faced me soon brought my mind back to the business at hand. I went in for two of my three fittings during the week, which made me love my personalized creation all the more. I felt like a kid waiting for Christmas to arrive.

Towards the end of the week I was called upon, to look up some information concerning the last presentation that the company had made to a sub-contractor Arch Leather Goods, Co. I found the appropriate file and began to review it.

What I found were dinner menus, food and liquor shopping lists and the address of a house in Vermont. After awhile I was able to piece together that last meetings were held at the client's offices, during the day but were continued into the evening at Mr. Thatcher's vacation home, which was obviously nearby.

From the shopping lists which were written in neat script, that I recognized as my predecessor's hand, she had been there orchestrating everything. Catering, shopping, meetings, changes to contracts, anything and everything that needed to be done. I wondered who was handling all of this, for this trip.

I walked into Mr. Thatcher's office to give him the information that he had requested. He thanked me and I turned to leave. Curiosity kills the cat they say but I couldn't help but ask who was handling all of the functions that my predecessor had handled on the previous trip. He stood up and replied easily, 'Actually Lucinda has agreed to take care of all of that.'

My mouth must have dropped open, 'But, she's the director of marketing. Isn't that going to lower her credibility to the client when she has to make her part of the pitch.'

He shrugged his shoulders and said, 'We're short handed and this is very important to the company and she's the low-man on the totem pole. So my dear, unless you are volunteering, Lucinda has to do it.' That stopped me in my tracks. Then the thought occurred to me why shouldn't I. This place was going to be a morgue while the partners were away and this couldn't hurt towards getting me a full time position. Besides it just didn't seem right to me to have Lucinda do that kind of work. She was one of the company's leaders, not a worker bee like me.

'Yes', I said, more to myself than to Mr. Thatcher. 'Yes, I am volunteering to handle the managing of your trip and any other details that arise.'

This time he was speechless. When he regained his composure, he gave me a warm smile and shook my hand, 'Welcome on board, my dear'. He then told me that he would talk to Lucinda and that he was sure she would be by soon to hand over the trip itinerary.

I had barely gotten back to my desk and have a few seconds to reflect on what I had just done, when Lucinda ran around my desk and hugged me.

'You are an absolute gem, my dear' she began almost in tears. 'Michael told me what you've done and what you said about me... you're simply wonderful.' With a final squeeze she regained her composure quickly and set out on briefing me as to my new additional responsibilities. I would have to travel up there on Saturday to make sure that the caterer and everything was in order. Mr. Thatcher would be arriving Monday evening with Mr. Stanton, the president of Arch Leather Works.

He would be there for two days, then she would be in for the next two days. If all went well with their meetings than Mr. Harrison would follow on Friday for the wrap up meetings. She hugged me again and left.

Friday came quickly and I packed, for my business trip. Not knowing entirely what was expected of me I packed a wide variety of outfits including two evening gowns. I figured what the heck, at the very worst they will just sit in the trunk of my car.

Saturday was awhirl of activity. The long car ride was followed by food shopping and a meeting with the caterer. Then taking the time to figure out where everything could be found in an unfamiliar house and where to put away all of the supplies.

The house itself was large and I needed time to familiarize myself with it. There were four bedrooms upstairs and one more downstairs. I had been assigned the downstairs bedroom. It had a beautiful full sized bed with posts at each corner that were easily six feet tall. The bed had a warm quilt comforter and I was asleep shortly after my head hit the pillow.

Sunday saw me supervising a cleaning crew, during the morning. They had already been there during the week, but I was to inspect everything and have them correct anything that needed fixing. That afternoon, feeling that I had everything as under control as it was going to get, I set out to relax.

I adjourned to the beautiful recreation room that was built as an extension to the house. It was wood paneled with high ceilings and warming skylights. I sat down on a comfortable couch and sipped my diet ice tea. I must have drifted off when I was awakened by someone calling my name.

Still fuzzy from my nap, I replied, 'Yes. I'm in here.' Dusky light was filtering in from the overhead skylight, so I guessed that it must be late afternoon. A light snapped on and as I blinked my eyes to adjust, I heard Mr. Thatcher say, 'There you are Sharon.'

I stood up quickly and said, 'I didn't expect you until tomorrow night.'

He looked concerned at my discomfort and replied, 'I really am sorry about that, my dear, but my friend Arch here decided he would like to have a little powwow, prior to the morning meetings. I would have called but the darn batteries in my cellular ran out of juice on my way up here. `I hope this doesn't cause you any problems.'

At about this point I started to worry about what I must look like, waking up from a nap and wearing casual clothing. 'No of course not, Sir', I responded. 'It's just that I don't have anything for you to eat for the evening and well... I must look a fright. I'd like a few minutes to go and change.'

'First off, you look lovely as always, my dear', Mr. Thatcher said with a warm smile. 'And second...' He pointed to Mr. Stanton, who had come a little further into the room. He held up a brown paper bag and said, 'I've got enough dinner for everyone. Chinese, a little shrimp, some beef and mess of vegetables.' Despite his slightly gravely voice Mr. Stanton had an easygoing manner that made me like him right off the bat. Still a little unsure about my outfit, I smoothed my sweater skirt a bit and then walked forward on slipper-clad feet, to relieve Mr. Stanton of his burden.

I used the microwave to warm up the food and placed it about the dining room table. The men came in at my call. Dinner went smoothly with the normal polite chitchat. Afterwards they settled in at the recreation room wet bar, as I cleared the table.

Placing the remaining food in the refrigerator, I gathered up some snacks for them to have with their drinks. Re-entering the room, I placed the bowls of nuts, pretzels and trail mix on the bar. "You must have been reading my mind, Sharon,' Mr. Thatcher beamed. As he spoke he put an elegant glass of wine in front of me. 'Thank you, for everything, but now just relax.' He nodded to Mr. Stanton. 'This rascal and I are just discussing the actual value of his products, to our newest endeavor. I keep telling him that rope is every bit as good as leather restraints and he just refuses to see my point.'

Mr. Stanton laughed heartily, 'What your boss refuses to accept, young lady, is that leather cuffs are much more convenient and comfortable than rope.'

I sipped my wine as the argument flowed around me. They had quickly gone beyond Mr. Thatcher's weak ploy in saying that rope could replace leather restraints, on our new line of products. Now, they were into an intense discussion as to which medium was more comfortable. Mr. Thatcher claimed that he could bind a woman securely, yet comfortably for an extended period of time using his special 'pre-washed' rope. He further went onto say that his work would definitely be a damn site more pleasant to look at then leather straps.

Mr. Stanton, chuckled at the younger man, but not unkindly. How 'pleasant' it looks is a totally subjective qualification, he commented. And though I am much more partial to the look of a fine leather cuff or strap, I don't think that is the issue here. Comfort is the issue, and I say that my padded cuffs have it all over your ropes.

'Why don't you just try it', I said quietly to myself. They both turned to look at me, so I nervously added, 'Mr. Harrison says that only someone who has tried it for themselves can really understand how to use it... or I suppose how comfortable it is.'

Mr. Stanton's head popped up, 'That's an excellent idea, young lady.' He looked at Mr. Thatcher and continued, 'We need an independent third party to test our theories.'

Mr. Thatcher, snapped his fingers, 'Of course that's a perfect idea. But, it is going to take until mid-week to get one of the models up here.' He frowned, then snapped his fingers again, 'I'll call Sam and get her up here. She'll have to get a sitter but she can probably be here by mid-night.'

Arch laughed loudly. 'Without meaning any disrespect to your lovely wife, I would hardly call her and independent third party. No I think were going to have to give up on our quest and simply agree to disagree.'

'What about me', I asked in a squeaky voice. Part of me couldn't believe what I was doing, but the other part of me wouldn't stop.

'Excuse me, my dear', Mr. Thatcher replied quietly. I had their full attention now, so I blundered onward.

'I am a temporary working for this company, just give me your word that you won't fire me if I end up disagreeing with you and I'll be as independent as you're going to get. I'm perfect for this assignment, being new to all of this I don't have any pre-conceived notions, and... During the two weeks that I've worked for you, I have become very interested in bondage and I can't think of a better place to start my education than with two experts such as yourselves.' I blushed and shied away from looking them in the faces, my earlier bravado flying with the wind.

'That would be wonderful, Sharon', Mr. Thatcher said carefully. 'But if you are sure that you want to do this it must be as a model, with all the rights that entails. Are you sure that you want to do this, my dear?'

I saw warmth and concern when I met his eyes and whispered, 'Yes'.

'All right then its just a matter of the two of us coming up with some rules on how this contest will take place', he told me. 'Please, feel free to add your own comments or concerns if any arise.'

'The same type of bondage, once using rope and the second time using leather restraints and or straps?' Mr. Thatcher started.

'No, they must be different forms of bondage. We don't want the young lady matching our styles we want her to tell us which is the most comfortable form of restraint', countered Mr. Stanton.

'Agreed', said Mr. Thatcher.

'What's your preference', Mr. Stanton. asked.

'Hog-tie position. My wife says I have the most devilish way of making a comfortable bondage into a challenging one. How about you?'

Mr. Stanton seemed thoughtful, 'Standing, arms bound overhead. I'll see your challenge and raise you, she has to be wearing high heels during the suspension.'

I could see the gleam in Mr. Thatcher's eyes, 'I'll call your heels and add breast bondage to my position'. The two men stared at each other totally oblivious to my being there.

"Done", cried Mr. Stanton.

I laughed a little nervously, forcing them to remember that I was a part of this little adventure. "I'm not really sure that I understood everything you two gentlemen were talking about', I began. 'But it sounded to me like you have two separate 'bets' going. The first, as we discussed, to see which medium is more comfortable and the second...' I paused to look into both of there eyes.

Neither of them showed the least sign of malice. It just seemed to me that men will be boys and they had gotten a bit carried away with themselves. 'The second part is to see who can make their bondage situation the most... challenging.'

Mr. Thatcher coughed a little and said, 'you are quite correct, my dear. We had forgotten to take your limitations into consideration. Mr. Stanton and I will tone down our enthusiasm and return to the main issue at hand.'

Smiling I shook my head at the two older men, 'you missed my point, gentlemen. I just wanted to know what I needed to be the judge of during these two ordeals that you have concocted for me.' I paused, not meeting their eyes to add, 'I want to experience a true bondage situation. I assure you that your enthusiasm will only make it better for all of us.' I stopped for a moment not sure that I could go on. 'Lucinda gave me the Beginner's Bondage Set and I have been experimenting with it. So if you wish to add accessories, a gag and or blindfold, that's fine with me.'

'You are an extraordinary women, my dear', Mr. Thatcher said warmly.

'Here Here', Mr. Stanton concurred.

I blushed as Mr. Thatcher continued, 'I need to get a few things together and you my dear need to be wearing less clothing. It is important that you be able to feel the rope so that you can judge upon its comfort. So if you would be so kind as to put on something appropriate we can start.' I turned obediently towards my room.

'No, no, my dear', Mr. Stanton said making me stop in my tracks and turn around. 'If you are looking for the whole 'bondage experience' as you call it, you should never leave until you are dismissed or told to leave. Also whenever you address one of your principles, you should address them as Sir or Madame, depending on their sex. Do you understand young lady.'

I looked towards the floor, like a schoolgirl caught doing something naughty and responded softly, 'Yes, sir'.

Mr. Thatcher nodded his head and Mr. Stanton said, 'Very good, you may go now.'

Once I had closed the door, I stripped naked in a flash. I thought of walking out in just my birthday suit, but I knew that that would just lessen my pleasure. I needed a sexy outfit. The bustier was out as it covered my breasts and while I didn't know what they had meant by breast bondage, I was sure it meant that my breasts would need to be bared. Searching through my belongings, I found the perfect items. A black and gold bra and panties set. They were from Victoria's Secret and therefore of exceptional quality. I added a black satin garter belt and black hose. For my feet I added my favorite soft black leather slippers. They hadn't mentioned anything about heels in this scenario and if I was going to be bound for any length of time I might as well be as comfortable as possible.

Feeling sexy and wanting to strut my stuff, I opened the door and approached the two men. Mr. Thatcher's eyebrows rose a bit, but otherwise continued to regard me normally. Mr. Stanton on the other hand, jaw had dropped open. 'My God', he said. 'She's a dead ringer for your wife.'

Mr. Thatcher smiled at me and answered, 'Yes, put a curly brunette wig on the young lady and she could certainly pass for my wife… mind you that was ten years ago...' Then he spoke to me. 'My wife also has an amazing body, but you are a shade taller I would say. About five seven?' he asked.

'Yes, sir', I replied saucily. 'And what would you have me do first, Sir'.

'Come closer, my dear', he said in a voice that held a tone of command. I walked to within three or four feet of the two of them. 'Remove your bra', Mr. Thatcher's voice continued to be warm and friendly, but it definitely now was one of command.

'Yes, sir', I responded automatically as I removed my breast covering.

'Very, very good', he said eyeing my chest. 'Thirty-six B or C?' he questioned me.

'C is more comfortable, but I can squeeze into a B', I responded.

Mr. Stanton glared at me and cleared his throat. 'Sir', I added quickly, at once understanding his meaning. He reached out and cupped one of my breasts, not fondling it, just feeling it.

I flinched a little at first, but quickly relaxed. I was getting very excited by the entire situation and I was sort of sad that he wasn't fondling me. 'It is wonderful, to be young', he opined. 'Your breasts are exquisitely firm and just the proper side of large.'

He paused, so I responded, 'Thank you, sir'. I sighed a little as his hand left me.

'Yes', he said talking to Mr. Stanton, 'I believe that I will start with the breast bondage and then work on the main position afterwards.' Mr. Stanton nodded sagely, but did not say anything in reply.

'Turn around and cross your wrists behind you, my dear', Mr. Thatcher commanded. Doing as instructed, I soon felt rope encircle my wrists. In less than a minute he was done. I tested the bonds and found that there was a little give to the rope, enough to ensure that they weren't cutting off my circulation at least, but not enough to allow me any chance of freeing myself.

What was I doing? I was standing between two men, nearly naked, while they were setting about, bit by bit, to take away my freedom. Shouldn't I want them to stop? I smiled to myself. Yes, I guess that I should, but I don't!

'Turn around once more, my dear', Mr. Thatcher told me. I turned and faced the two men. Mr. Thatcher was folding a rope in half, so that it formed to equal sized pieces. He slid the rope around my waist and then threaded the twin-taped ends through the eye formed at the center of the bent rope. Putting one hand on my stomach, he tugged the rope tight, until it bit into my soft flesh.

'Spread your legs a little wider, my dear', he requested. I moved my slipper-clad feet about eighteen inches apart while responding, 'Yes, sir'. He passed the rope between my legs, so that the twin cords rested right up against my vagina. He slid the ends between my back and the tight waist rope, then pulling to tighten the cords he tied them off behind my back. Quite a bit of extra rope dangled between my legs, but no explanation was given as to why.

'This is sometimes referred to as a rope chastity belt. It is best applied without you wearing panties,' Mr. Thatcher informed me. 'That information was simply for your own edification, young lady and should in no way be taken as a request.'

I nodded my head and replied, 'I understand, sir'. The ropes were not painful, even the one digging into my middle. All I felt was a little uncomfortable pressure.

'Please sit down on one of the bar stools', he commanded waving vaguely in the direction of the bar. I walked over to the chairs, turning I backed up against one. Using my bound hands to make sure I would that I would find the center of the stool, I shimmed my way up onto the high perch. I rested my feet on the bar between the stool legs and watched as Mr. Thatcher prepared what looked like a small lasso.

'Lean forward, my dear', he said. I knew what he was looking for, so I thrust my chest forward. Encircling my left tit with the cord, I noticed that it was narrower than the rope he had used earlier. He tightened the cord around the base of my breast until he noticed me wince. Using the same motions I remember my father use when he hand tied his own fishing flies, he wrapped the cord about my tit. Five more perfect spirals formed about my breast. Each as tight as the first, they formed a tight rope cuff about the base and the first half of my breast. The result of this was that the top of my breast looked like a balloon about to burst, as all of the flesh that could not fit within the confines of the tight cord was pushed forward.

'How does that feel, my dear', Mr. Thatcher asked as he stepped back to admire his handy work. Still looking down at my bloated breast, I replied in a tight voice, 'It feels like your going to win the discomfort part of your bet, sir.'

I took a deep breath and continued, 'But don't let that stop you from finishing. I knew that there had to be a tougher part to this bondage stuff than I had been playing with and this seems to be one example, sir.'

As he began to work on my remaining breast, he spoke, 'That is correct, my dear. I am sure that when you have heard people discussing bondage they use anachronisms, such as B&D. This stands for bondage and discipline, what you are currently experiencing is the discipline part. We use this to increase the level of sexual tension in our partners and sometimes to simply remind them who is the master of the situation. He completed his work on my second breast and now I had two angry red balloons sprouting from my chest.

Mr. Stanton closely examined the work, shaking his head and whistling softly. 'An absolute work of art, Michael. Even to the fact that you have managed to make each breast look exactly the same size as its twin. I know how difficult it is to do that and yet you made it look effortless.' He made a half-serious half-comical bow and added, 'You are a true master of the art, sir'. Turning to me he said, 'Were that I was twenty years younger. I would give all of those young bucks vying for your attentions a run for their money'. I blushed at his gallantry, but I didn't want to tell him there weren't any 'young bucks vying for my attentions' at the moment.

Mr. Thatcher again performed his rope-folding trick, but this time the rope was much longer. Threading the ends through the eye at the fold he formed a small double cord circle. He knelt down before me and commanded, 'Lift your feet up, my dear'. I did as instructed, but it wasn't easy. I again had to use my bound hands to balance me while I did so. 'Very good', Mr. T. said as I felt the rope encircle my ankles. 'You may lower your feet back to their previous position'.

I placed my slippers on the metal bar and leaned forward to watch my boss work. He circled my ankles once again with the twin ropes, then passed the rope between my ankles circling the horizontal bindings. This served to tighten the initial coils, which now made neat white furrows in the sheer black stockings that sheathed my legs. I knew without even trying that it would be impossible to escape these bonds.

This completed he began to wind the rope tightly about both legs, encircling them in neat perfectly spaced spirals upward over my calves. He stopped just below the knee, where he again passed the rope between my legs to circle four of the horizontal coils. He stood up and retrieved another rope and prepared it in the same manner. Looking at his rope work, I marveled at its neatness. Exactly like on my breasts, the rope coils were so exactingly placed that they seemed to form a single sleeve covering my lower legs. Balancing myself, I lifted my legs up for a better view, 'That's wonderful', I said in admiration to Mr. Thatcher.

He looked at me and then at Mr. Stanton. 'You forgot to say, sir, my dear', Mr. Thatcher shook his head sadly. 'In a normal bondage encounter you would be disciplined for that lapse. Since you are helping us settle an argument and new to this game, I feel some leniency is in order. Of course you must be punished in some way', he said off handily, as he turned to Mr. Stanton. 'Do you have any suggestions?'

Mr. Stanton looked thoughtful 'You were going to gag the young lady before you were finished, weren't you?'

Mr. Thatcher answered, 'Yes, of course'.

Mr. Stanton smiled, 'And do you have any particularly unpleasant gags on the premises?'

Mr. Thatcher also smiled, 'Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. A harness gag that my wife wore only once and has since refused to use again. The ball was too large for her.' Mr. Thatcher was reaching into one of the cardboard boxes he had brought into the room. 'An excellent idea, Arch', he commended his friend. 'It will be uncomfortable enough to be labeled as a punishment and at the same will keep the young lady from making more gaffs.'

I figured that I wasn't going to get a say in this as Mr. Thatcher placed the leather straps at the top of the harness over my head. I opened my mouth with out being asked and was rewarded by the hard rubber ball being pressed into the opening. Mr. Thatcher placed one hand behind my head and then provided more and more pressure until the huge red ball parted my teeth enough to lodge itself tightly between my strained jaws.

There was no popping of the ball behind my teeth like with my more moderately sized ball gag, it just went in a tad more and then stopped. It only got worse as he fastened all of the contraptions buckles. First behind my head and neck and finally below my chin.

There was no mirror to view myself in, but I could feel that my mouth was spread too widely for my lips to encircle the ball. In fact I would bet money that most of what surrounded the ball was bright white teeth. My jaw felt strained beyond endurance. I thought that maybe I would have preferred the normal discipline to this so-called 'punishment'. Even my aching breasts couldn't compare to this new level of discomfort. I didn't try to run from the pain, nor make my principles stop.

Instead I turned inwards to embrace all of the feelings flowing through me. The soft caress of the rope encircling my legs, the discomfort of my bulging bosom and the sweet agony of my gag. Even the flexing of my leather slipper covered feet molding themselves to the steel bar that I was perched on, was part of my musings. I was helpless, bound and gagged before strong men. What could be more fulfilling than this? I had no fantasies what-so- ever about being taken against my will, but I sure wish there was a younger principle involved who would sate the growing hunger between my legs.

Mr. Thatcher continued his work. I wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to accomplish, but if totally immobilizing me was his goal, he was succeeding admirably. The next bindings started just above my knees, with the same double coil of twin ropes tightened by wrapping the line around the bindings. It was more difficult for him to pass the rope between my bound legs, but he expertly wormed the cords through, twice, using his fingers to spread my supple flesh.

'Scoot, forward on the stool as far as you can, my dear', he asked warmly. I realized that once that I had been 'punished' all malevolence towards me had vanished. Again balancing myself with my hands I slid my butt forward until only about half of it was still on the leather seat. He continued his wrapping of the soft cords about my legs until he had entirely covered my black stockings. This left him only inches from the furnace between my legs.

As his hands wormed the circling bindings between my legs, I couldn't help but groan. My eyes popped open when Mr. Thatcher asked, 'Are you all right, my dear?'

I blinked for a minute and mumbled into my gag. Realizing that wasn't going to work, I nodded my head up and down. Accepting my answer he completed his final knot. I bit hard on the ball, trying not to groan again as his fingers brushed up against my panties. I was so sensitive down there that I swear that I could feel my short curly hairs pushed inward by his unintentional touch. God, I hope that I'm not as wet as I feel or his fingers are going to come away damp from my juices!

I watched him carefully but he didn't seem in anyway put out, so I decided that my fears were unjustified. 'You may sit back now, my dear', he told me. Once I had done this he turned the rotating seat of the stool ninety degrees to my right. Positioning himself behind me he began the same process on my arms. Starting a little ways below my shoulder blades and working downwards. The first binding pulled my arms uncomfortably towards each other, straining my back muscles and forcing me to sit a little straighter. As he coiled the rope about my arms he was pulling them backwards, this made me bow my head forward.

Looking down at my legs, I again marveled at the perfection he had achieved in my bindings. My lower appendages appeared more like a mermaid tail than female legs. Only my knees and feet displayed my black stockings, every other inch of them was covered with the soft white rope.

His ministrations behind my back had started to border on painful. With each wrapping of the cords he had brought my arms closer together, until I thought that my elbows would touch each other. The only reason that I think that they didn't is because he performed one of his securing bindings just above the elbow. This one wasn't as rewarding as the last, as there were no erogenous zones in the area. My shoulder's ached from the strain, but it was bearable all the same.

Finishing the inverted rope pyramid that covered my arms, he turned to Mr. Stanton, 'what do you think, old friend, ...the card table?' I am not a fan of rodeo watching, so I had no idea what a 'hog-tie' was and didn't understand why they wanted to place me on a table.

'It's more comfortable than the floor, ' he responded.

Mr. Thatcher scooped me off the stool and carried me over to leather-covered table in the corner. As he lowered me onto the surface, I felt the padding beneath me give to my weight. I don't know if he could notice my surprised look around the harness gag, but regardless he explained, 'Specially built, my dear. The leather cover is supported by three inches of foam padding.

Below the table are sixteen handles, two to each of the octagonal sides, which can be used for rope, or...', he nodded to Mr. Stanton, 'for leather straps. You might remember pictures of it from our slide presentation.' I looked up at him, as best as I could. 'This was the prototype for that kit.'

'Now to finish off your confinement, I will be rolling you over onto your stomach', he informed me. I was on my side at the time, so it only took a little pushing to tip me over.

'Oooopppphhh', I groaned loudly as the wind was knocked out of me. Despite the padding the weight of my upper body mashed my already near to bursting breasts, into the tabletop. It was like being pressed into a vice and I had to struggle to contain my rasping breath.

No one jumped to help me, in fact the two men simply looked on as I stopped my senseless side-to-side shifting and my breathing calmed down. The excruciating pressure in my breasts finally became barely bearable. 'If you remember, my dear', Mr. Thatcher began, 'this is the discomforting addition to my bondage scenario, that you will be grading me upon.' If I had been able to talk, I would have told him that he had gotten an A plus, with extra credit to boot!

'Are you ready and able to continue, my dear', he asked with true concern in his voice. I shook my head doggedly in the affirmative. Using both hands he lifted my legs from the ankles off of the table. Reaching a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Holding my legs now with only one hand, he used the other to pull some of the loose rope from behind my back. As I felt my waist rope shift and felt the rope between my legs loosen, I knew where he was but not what he was doing.

I quickly found out the use of that so-called chastity rope belt. Forcing my legs downward, until they were almost touching my buttocks, he slid the rope between my ankles. Wrapping it once around those bindings, he then used the remainder of the rope to attach my ankles to my wrists. I guess there wasn't much rope left because he pulled my wrists so close to my ankles that it made my body bow from the tension. As his hands left my tightly bound body, I tried to relax. My ankles in effect tried to spring back to a more comfortable position.

'Aaaarrrrgggghhhh', I groaned loudly. As my ankles moved away form my butt they pulled the rope between my legs taught as a bowstring. Not only did the ropes bite into the tender flesh of my lower mouth, but also the ropes somehow got one of my cunt lips in between them! It felt like someone had put a steel clamp on that sensitive part of my anatomy. I stopped all movement and tried to imitate a statue.

'Oh no', said Mr. Thatcher in concern, 'I can just imagine what happened. I really should have warned you about that possibility.' Rolling me on my side again, he continued, 'Let me see if I can fix this'. Mr. Stanton seemed to know what he intended, moving behind me to help keep my ankles close to my ass. Mr. Thatcher worked on the ropes between my legs, even with all of the other pains that were passing through my body, his touch sent shivers through my body. 'There we go, I will just move the ropes to each side of your, ummm... vagina, and that should alleviate the pressure.'

Mr. Stanton pushed me back up onto my stomach. 'An incredible piece of work', he said, 'Pure artistry'. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mr. Thatcher, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. Great, I sighed to myself, now he knows for sure that I am hotter than a bitch in heat. This embarrassing thought made me forget all of my other discomforts.

The two men talked about me clinically, like doctors. Talking about my fine lines and how the rope just melds into my milky white skin. They talked about how the rope between my legs, would keep me from moving very much. Very much, I thought to myself, how about not at all! They even commented upon my insightful choice of outfits and the sexy yet comfortable slippers I had selected. Truly, the young woman has serious potential they concluded. I wasn't sure what they meant by that comment, but I preened at it nonetheless.

My ears perked up as Mr. Thatcher said to Mr. Stanton, 'How long should we leave the young lady bound for?'

Mr. Stanton was quiet for a moment than replied, 'its ten now, how about until midnight'.

I couldn't help myself, 'Whaaaattt', I blurted into the huge red ball. Even to my ears it came out sounding more like 'Uuuuupppp'. So I wasn't surprised when my request was answered.

Mr. Thatcher said, 'No, my dear, I don't think we need to 'up' the time limit. Two hours should be sufficient.'

With that the two men moved back the bar and turned on the large screen TV, to a football game. In the position I was in it was very difficult for me to turn my head to look over at them. I stole glances once in awhile but that was all I could manage. Mostly I just looked at the brown leather tabletop in front of my eyes.

My body was still bowed and despite Mr. Thatcher's help with the ropes between my legs, I had to keep as still as possible. As my legs became more tired more pressure was placed on those damning cords. I tried to pull at my ankles, with whatever arm strength that I had remaining but this only made it worse. My poor cunny was now being squished between the two ropes. Besides this, my aching shoulder blades and the God-awful gag I was anything but comfortable. Laughing to myself, I realized that I couldn't imagine my employer losing the discomfort part of the bet. A hog-tied mummy with its mouth propped open with a huge ruby, is how I imagined myself. I had wanted a true bondage experience and I had certainly gotten my wish.

From time to time they walked over and checked on me. Asking me if I was OK and reviewing some of my bindings. I loved it when one or the other would run their hand over some of the ropes. I needed to be touched, badly. The best, though, was when I was rolled onto my side so Mr. Thatcher could make sure that my breasts weren't damaged. He tickled the nipples of both tits with the tips of his fingers until they sprang to attention.

'Perfect', was all that he said. So as they rolled me back onto my stomach I surmised that the rise they had gotten out of my nipples meant that my breast were still functioning properly. Little did they know that I had biting down on my gag to give me a focus so that I didn't moan my contentment like a lovesick calf. Yes my breasts may have been reacting appropriately, but they were also highly sensitized and so tender that the slightest touch nearly made me crazy with desire.

The football game finally ended and the news came on. Shortly after that the two men were back, undoing my bindings. I couldn't believe that it was over. At first I didn't think that I could possibly survive two hours, but now that it was over I was unsure as to where the time had gone. After the initial pains had subsided, I found that I was left with sort of a nagging discomfort. The rope between my legs had only become an irritant rather than a torturous device.

I must admit that when the gentlemen weren't looking my way I even jerked my feet a few times to use the ropes as a stimulant for my steaming cunny. Even my bound breasts got used to the devilish treatment. Only the damn huge ball gag never became bearable.

Fortunately, the gag was removed first. Working my jaw muscles to release the ache, I started to say, 'That was....'

I never got to the next word. 'No, no, my dear', Mr. Stanton said, 'don't say anything now until you have tomorrow's experience to measure it against.'

I thought about it and replied, 'All right, sir.' The cords binding my breast almost popped off when their knots were released. 'Ohhhhhhh', I sighed in relief. The rest of my ropes came of quickly.

I was helped into a standing position by the table and was surprised to see that I truly needed the help. It took a few minutes for the blood to start flowing normally throughout my body. My legs tingled from thighs to ankles. I was handed my bra, but shook my head no. 'You've already seen them, sir, and right now I'd just like to leave them unconfined.' I did a few minutes of aerobic warm up exercises to loosen up my tight muscles.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 4 - The Wager; Part II

By the White Knight

'Thank you very much, my dear', Mr. Thatcher said as he watched me bend and stretch. 'You have been a marvelous help this evening and I wish you a wonderful nights sleep.'

He was obviously giving me permission to leave. 'No, thank you very much, sirs', I began, 'It has been an honor to receive my first full bondage experience at the hands of two such distinguished gentlemen. But, I have a favor to ask you, sirs. Actually a rather large favor...' I trailed off trying to gather my courage to make my request. Looking up I noticed that Mr. Thatcher had lost his clinical look and was turning a bit white. Mr. Stanton looked equally uncomfortable.

'Ah, my dear', Mr. Thatcher said before I could continue, 'I am a married man and there are certain limitations that, that imposes upon me....' Now I realized what they were so worried about, trying not to smile, I said, 'Oh no, that's not what I am referring to, sir. I've seen the pictures of your wife and children. I'm not trying to cause you any trouble. It's just...' I really had their interest now, but it was tough to get the words out. I had thought about them during my entire captivity, but now found it difficult to utter them.

Finally I blurted, 'I would like you to tie me to my bed for the evening and then unbind me in the morning...sir'.

The men both smiled. 'Extraordinary', Mr. Stanton said. 'My dear young lady we salute you and would be happy to accommodate your wish.' Mr. Thatcher looked at me warmly and asked, 'Are there any special requests that you would like to give us concerning your over night restraints?'

I nodded my head, and said, 'Yes. I would like to have my wrists and ankles bound to the corners of the bed, and to be gagged and blindfolded. I would appreciate if you could find a gag that is more comfortable than the one I used earlier though, sir.'

'Not a problem, my dear', he answered. 'And you no longer have to refer to us as sir, your bondage session is over'.

I smiled past my fears of telling my true feelings, 'Actually I wouldn't really feel comfortable calling you by your given names and I kind of like it… sir.'

'That's fine young lady', He nodded sagely. `I am sure that you want to freshen up, a little so just call us when you are ready.'

As I left for my bedroom, I overhead Mr. Stanton, say something about 'my boy... ' and 'what a truly extraordinary women...' I didn't know what these things meant, but I had other plans in mind so I let it slide. Stripping out of my few pieces of clothing, I utilized the bathroom to take a quick sponge bath.

From the back of the closet I removed my multi pack stimulator from the suitcase I had secreted it in. In five minutes flat I had the dildo's strapped securely into me. From the draw I had assigned to nightclothes, I pulled out a set of pink silk pajamas. First the top went on. It was loose and roomy, resembling a man's work shirt with a wide lapel. The elastic waistband of the bottoms, rested on top of the leather belt about my waist. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the door and decided that the dildo's and straps couldn't be seen. The cords running over my butt showed a little, but I knew how to handle that. I slid into a pair of pink nylon Isotoner slippers and opened the door.

'Gentlemen', I called, 'I could use your assistance now'. I raced back to the bed and pulled off the quilt. I lay down, spreading my extremities towards each of the posts in preparation. I didn't have to wait long. I could tell as they walked in that there was some type of tension between them. Mr. Thatcher carried rope in his hands and Mr. Stanton was burdened with an assortment of leather straps and cuffs.

They both started to talk at once. Mr. Thatcher excused himself and said something like guests first.

'My dear', Mr. Stanton began, 'you didn't specify what type of restraints that you would like to be used in binding your lovely form to your bed. I have tried to explain to Mr. Thatcher, that after all of the time that you spent in rope tonight, that you probably would like a change of pace'. He held forth his goodies. 'However, Mr. T...'

I cut him off quickly and raised myself onto my elbows. 'Gentlemen, I apologize for not being more specific in my request. And I am truly sorry if I have caused any rift between two such wonderful friends.' I paused, thinking how best to frame my next words. 'What I would like for tonight is to be bound with rope...' Mr. Thatcher beamed and Mr. Stanton looked grim. I hurried on with my explanation, 'sort of a continuation of our earlier contest. Then tomorrow night, I would very much like to sample your wares Mr. Stanton. I think this will give me a much better appreciation of both of your conflicting claims, so that I can make a truly informed decision.' Both men were now smiling, so I smiled also. Lying back down, I spread my arms towards the opposite posts.

'Whenever you are ready, gentlemen?' I said with a slight questioning tone to my voice.

Mr. Stanton put his leather goods down on a chair and waited for Mr. Thatcher to do the honors. We were both surprised, when Mr. Thatcher handed him a pair of the ropes and said, 'They say many hands make light work, would you mind helping me fulfill this beautiful young lady's request?' Mr. Stanton laughed a little, which relieved any of the existing tension in the room and agreed readily.

As the two men worked, Mr. Stanton asked, 'So you like the spread eagle position, my dear?'

I blushed a little and replied, 'If you mean tied to the corners of the bed, yes. It's the only position I have been able to achieve by myself with my nylon restraints'. He looked into my eyes, 'by yourself, my dear? Why don't you get your boy friend or... lover to help you.' They had finished their work.

I was now bound tightly, but not uncomfortably to the bed. There I was in my silk PJ's talking to two men as if we were sitting at the kitchen table. I laughed at the sheer incongruity of the situation. 'If you mean to ask, if I am gay', I replied, 'the answer is a definitive NO! And as for my boyfriend I kicked him out over a month ago. Besides I don't think he would have cared for this new passion I have developed. He was rather a stuffy sort, not very inventive, which is part of the reason he's history.' I had said more than I had wanted to, but it had just sort of spilled out.

'That's really very sad young lady', said Mr. Stanton with real concern in his voice. 'At such a time in your life, when you are delving into a whole new realm of excitement, it is a terrible thing not to have someone to share it with.' He shook his head sadly. 'Maybe Mr. Thatcher and I can come up with someone, whom you might like.' He didn't give me a chance to contradict him, as he finished with, 'Yes, I think we owe it to you to at least try.' How do you argue with that, I thought.

'Time to go to sleep, young lady', Mr. Thatcher said changing the subject. He was holding a gag that looked like a scarf with a ball in the center. I opened my mouth and the bulge in the scarf slid in easily. As he bound it behind my head he explained that it was a favorite of his wife's and that it had a beanbag in the center. It was a mouthful, but Samantha was right, it was much more comfortable than a ball gag.

Mr. Stanton placed a white satin sleep mask over my eyes and slid the strap into place behind my head. He then did the nicest thing that anyone had done to me in a long time. He kissed me on the forehead and whispered, 'Sweet dreams'. Then I felt the comforter being draped over my bound form. After a few moments, I heard a light switch click and the door close. Despite the aching of most of the muscles in my body, I luxuriated in the feel of the soft ropes and swiftly fell into a deep sleep.

'Sharon, Sharon, wake up', someone was calling. Slowly, my senses returned. I am not what you would call a morning person. As my eyes cracked open, I realized that I could see. Obviously the blindfold had been removed. The gag was also gone and I could see and feel them working on my wrist and ankle bindings. No, Dorothy, I said to myself, it wasn't a dream. There was no reason to be embarrassed, just relax, I told myself. They gallantly had left the comforter to cover me as they removed my restraints.

I smelled the coffee before I saw it. Mr. Stanton nodded towards the drink and said, 'I thought you might like a little pick me up while you get ready. You had a long night last night. I hope that you slept well.' I smiled the best smile I could muster upon waking and responded, 'Thank you for asking and yes, I slept very well.' Both men moved to the door. 'We will leave you alone then.'

When they left I jumped out of bed... and felt every muscle in my body ache. I couldn't go through the day like this. Stripping the dildo's out of me and washing them off, I hid them away. I carefully folded and put away my silk pajamas, then found the widest open area in the room. Naked, I ran through a fifteen-minute aerobic workout, concentrating on bending, stretching and other muscle relaxing exercises. I felt better as the hot water of the shower cascaded over my body. It stung a little when it hit my breasts, so I turned my back to the spray, figuring they might be a tad sensitive for a while. The pulsating water did wonders to relieve the tightness in my shoulder blades.

Performing my normal routine of getting ready for work, I dressed quickly and headed for the kitchen.

The men were talking business, and except for a brief exchange of good mornings, they basically left me to myself. As we drove to Mr. Stanton's office and we chatted about the countryside, the weather and his company. Mr. Stanton also asked me questions about myself, where I had gone to school, about my previous employers and such. He seemed surprised to hear that I had gone to very expensive all girl college and that I had previously worked for a prestigious law firm.

I explained that my parents were quite well off, so their 'little girl' had to go to all of the proper schools, but that school and I never really got along. I didn't have the aspirations of many of my peers towards climbing the corporate ladder or marrying someone just to fit into a certain social class. The law firm I began working for just sort of fell into my lap, when I was graduating.

At one of my parent's parties, I was introduced to a very nice 'eligible' man. Dave and I didn't have much in common, so he talked about his work. After telling him that I had taken a few law classes, but really had no idea what I want to do for a career, he came up with an interesting suggestion. Work as a legal secretary. If you find that you like the law you can go back to school for your degree. To me it was a way out of my parent's home, to my father it was a wonderful idea. Within a week, I was working at the Dave's firm.

I found the law part of the work dreary, but the administrative end of managing two to four lawyers' schedules was like manna from heaven to me. I loved being in the 'know' on all the major going's on in the office. Being part of the team, you might call it. My favorite part was knowing that I could make those seemingly onerous task look easy. No I wasn't one of 'them', but they respected me none-the-less.

I paused in my recollections and Mr. Stanton asked, 'But why did you leave, it sounds like you had a good thing going there?'

As I was slowly assimilated into their culture, I began to think that maybe my parents and peers weren't all wrong. So, I started to date Dave. It was never what I would call a big romance, but we seemed to have fun at all of the social events. We started living together shortly afterwards. If I had done this with someone other than Dave my father probably would have disinherited me. So, life went on and on ...and on. After the newness of it all had worn off, I started to realize that this was not what I wanted. If we weren't out, he was glued to the Television set. To make matters worse, CNN or sports were all he cared to watch. Even when we started talking about it, it just didn't get any better. After almost a year of this, I woke up one morning and decided enough was enough. He seemed to be shocked when I asked him to leave. It was a pretty ugly scene and I just wanted to get away from everything that reminded me of it.

I resigned from the firm that morning, agreeing only to stay on long enough for them to find my replacement. Mom refused to let Daddy cut my allowance off, so I was able to continue paying my rent. Needing to pay the rest of my expenses I went to work at a temporary agency. Looking over at Mr. Thatcher I added, 'That is what brought me to Leather & Lace, and I am glad that it did. I really would like to thank you and all of the people at the company for making me feel so at home. Even in such a short time, I feel like I am part of the team and I have enjoyed the experience quite a bit.' I wasn't trying to lay on the soft soap, for what I was saying was true.

Mr. Thatcher looked at me and said in that warm way of his, 'You are a part of the team, my dear, you have proved it since the first day of your employment. Now, that you have joined us it's evident that you are 'assimilating' yourself into our culture. After this trip we will have to have a discussion about more permanent employment within our company.' I liked the way he emphasized our company, but my mind also keyed in on the 'assimilating' myself into their culture. He was correct, that is exactly what was happening to me. But, where the law firm was boring and stodgy, this company was exciting and vibrant.

The workday seemed to take a long time to get through. I ran the computerized screen show at a meeting of over twenty people. Then it was take notes and make myself useful. At four o'clock Mr. Thatcher sent me back to the house to supervise the caterers. We were throwing a dinner party, for all of the senior people of Mr. Stanton's company.

The caterers arrived on time and everything went smoothly. I felt comfortable enough by five-thirty to leave the manager alone and adjourned to my room. I didn't have a lot of time so I limited my activities, to my aerobic workout, showering and dressing. I was still incredibly horny from the night before and wished I had time for a little release, but duty beckoned.

Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Stanton, had spoken of the planned event, and had said that they would be wearing Tuxes. I was deemed the hostess for the party so I chose to wear one of the gowns that I had brought with me. The plush black velvet dress was back-less with a halter-top. The collar that I buttoned behind my neck was gold, as was trim that was used to accentuate the gown's lines.

The bright trim lined both sides of my halter-top, the V of which did not close until it reached, the matching gold belt. This was done very discreetly, however, so that there was plenty of material to totally surround both of my breasts and showed almost no cleavage. The cut of the halter was so ingenious that it made my breasts look like two separate black peaks.

The dress itself was tight around my rear and thighs then flowed straight to the floor. There was a little flaring at the bottom, but it really wasn't needed. It wasn't needed because of the gold line that ran down the right side of the dress. It was really two sets of lines of gold trim that overlapped. What the trim was highlighting was a slit that ran from floor to thigh. If I wanted to show off a little leg all I had to do was shift myself appropriately, but otherwise they would be fully covered. I wore a black satin garter belt and sheer black hose. The matching shoes were a sexy pair of suede 'T' strap pumps, sporting a three and a half inch heel. I finished off my ensemble with gold earrings and a thick gold bracelet. I wore my hair up, in a Jane Seymore style, leaving just a few curls to dangle next to my ears.

The evening went off splendidly. Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Stanton were in rare form, making all of the others feel comfortable. Champagne and wine flowed freely and a good time was had by all. I had many pleasant conversations, but most of the people attending our small banquet were married so everything was kept pretty tame. Only one of the men got a little out of line and a stern word of warning from Mr. Stanton stopped him in his tracks.

As the party broke up, I ushered people to the door where there were hired cars to take everyone home. Mr. Thatcher had made it clear to me, 'that no one was going to drive away from his party with too much drink in them', so I had set up this alternative. By the time the caterers and cleaning people left it was nearly eleven. Mr. Thatcher said to me, 'It's rather late, my dear. Are you till game to continue our contest?'

I nodded and smiled at Mr. Stanton before replying, 'Actually I am looking forward to it, sir.' Mr. Thatcher smiled also and then said, 'Wonderful. When you are ready meet Mr. Stanton and I in the basement.'

Going to my room I checked my make up and added a few splashes of perfume. Touching up my hair, I smiled at my reflection and left for the basement. The room was similar to the recreation room above, with the exception that it included a pool table and a large wooden frame near the far wall. They were congregated next to this frame and looked surprised to see me so quickly.

'Weren't you going to change, my dear?' questioned Mr. Thatcher.

'Unless it's a problem for you, sirs', I began. 'I would like to wear this outfit during the remainder of the contest.' As I spoke I crossed my wrists above my head and spread my legs about two feet apart, showing off my black stockings to just above the knee.

They still looked skeptical so using one hand I parted the slit up to my thigh. Then I pointed at my shoes and said with a smile, 'I have come prepared, high heels and all, sirs.'

Both men laughed. 'You are truly amazing young lady', Mr. Stanton began. 'Your dress is just fine, but your shoes... well, let me just say that they aren't high heels.' I started to argue, but a wave of his hand cut me off. He walked over to me and handed me a box, making motions with his hands that I should open it. Setting it down on the pool table, I did so. Once I pushed the white tissue paper aside I was greeted to a marvelous site. Black patent leather pumps, with a narrow pointy toe, all resting on a six-inch spike heel. The tip of the toe and half of the spike heel where covered by gold plate. They were exquisite. I lifted one from its cocoon of tissue paper and ran my fingers over the steeply arched sole of the pump. The patent leather gleamed like a shinny mirror. Mr. Stanton said, 'One of my subsidiaries makes most of the shoes that you see in your catalog. I took the liberty of checking your shoe size while we were in your bedroom last night, for just this purpose.' He paused and then added, 'Do you like them?'

I gave him a hug, and a kiss on the cheek, 'There beautiful. No they are better than that they are exquisite!' I felt like a kid receiving a birthday present and it showed. 'But, how did you know that I would be wearing black and gold tonight?' He nodded his head towards the table next to the frame on which were three other boxes.

'These were my first choice', he explained. 'Not only because they are lovely, but also because I thought you would wear the same bra and panty outfit as last night. However, I do know how women like to change their minds so I came prepared. Those boxes contain similar pairs of heels in red, white and plain black.' I looked at the table in awe. 'They are all yours, my dear', he finished.

I gave him another hug and said, 'I'm sure that I will love them all, but I must confess that I don't think that I will be able to walk in them.'

'Highly understandable, young lady', he answered, causing me to sigh in relief. 'Walking in heels like this takes quite a bit of practice. But, we wouldn't be asking you to walk in them, only stand in them!' I looked at the sky-high heel dubiously and Mr. Stanton continued, 'Shall we begin?'

Taking the shoes from me, he escorted me over to the frame. The room had a normal eight-foot high ceiling, which the top of the frame almost reached. It was made of heavy varnished wood that sprouted steel cables from the four-corners and the four points of the compass. 'Is this another one of your kits, sir?' I asked Mr. Thatcher.

'The deluxe version, not in the catalog yet', he replied with a smile.

Unlike last night, tonight's bindings went fairly quickly. I was asked to hold out my wrists and padded leather manacles were buckled into place. They were fastened very tightly, but the foam rubber padding made them very comfortable.

The cuffs were just like I imagined them from the picture that I had seen in the catalog. Thick black leather with chrome D rings and buckles. Mr. Stanton reached above me and pulled upon the cable above my head. It came down with the whining sound of machinery. Using the snap clasp he attached both of my wrists to the end of the cable. He nodded to Mr. Thatcher and I heard the ratcheting sound of a winch. I watched as my hands went from waist level, to chest level, then eye level and finally over my head. Mr. Stanton nodded again and the cable stopped its upward progress. My arms were above my head, but not uncomfortably so. I waited for what was to come.

Mr. Stanton knelt down in front of me and attached similar cuffs to my ankles. The black cuffs were so tight that they seemed to meld into my legs and become part of my black nylons. He then undid the clasps on my shoes and removed them.

My arms had not been tight before, but now without my high heels I was left standing on tiptoe so as not to be left hanging entirely by my wrists. Before this could become uncomfortable, he placed the new heels beside my feet. I lifted my right foot and used my stocking clad toes to feel there way into the pump. I found the heel and slid inward down the steeply arched sole until my toes were tightly ensconced into the narrow leather confines. Doing the same with my left foot released all of the strain on my arms, but now I had to worry about balancing in the six-inch heels.

I swayed and shifted my feet from side to side, trying to get used to new shoes. My ankles had to work hard to keep my feet from shifting in the high spikes. This made me reminiscent of my first attempts to wear high heels as a young girl. Putting on those two-inch pumps for the first time and practicing in them for hours, so that I could walk without stumbling. Then being so proud and at the same time self-conscious as I walked down the center aisle at church to communion. I wondered if all of the boys were looking at my feet and thinking that I must be 'hot stuff' because I was wearing heels. As I began to get the feel for my new shoes, I realized that if I wore these in public that all of the 'boys' would definitely think I was 'hot stuff'.

Mr. Stanton had left for a minute and now returned with a metal bar. The bar was able to contract and expand as desired. He looked over to Mr. Thatcher and who said, 'Two feet should be enough. She is new to this and I doubt that she could take the usual three'. I had no idea what they were talking about, until looking more closely at the bar I saw that it had eyelets at each end.

This must be a spreader bar, I now understood and they must be talking about how far that they intended to spread my ankles. I looked down at my feet, which were comfortably set about eight inches apart. Two feet? Three feet? What in these heels? They must be crazy, I thought.

'A shade under three, I think', answered Mr. Stanton 'Two and nine, lets call it. Remember this is the stressful part of my bondage scenario. I am sure that you made a lasting impression on the young lady with your breast bondage last night. If I am going to be able to overcome that I will have to push this enchanting woman to her limits.' This was another decision that I wasn't going to get any input into, of that I was sure.

It is at first difficult to think of yourself in such a submissive role, but it is freeing in other ways. You get a certain sense of freedom, in letting someone else control your actions. In this case if I had been asked I was sure that I would have opted for a smaller spread, but another part of me would always have wondered what the larger would have felt like. In this way the two gentlemen had made the decision for me and I would reap both the trials and the tribulations of the affair, without being mad at myself for choosing the more or less difficult path.

"Yes, I do understand that this is the stressful part of your bondage situation, but she is totally new to this and I would like to have a chance at winning… so how about two and six?" Mr. Thatcher argued.

"Done", grinned Mr. Stanton, "Two and six it is!"

He then knelt and commanded me to spread my ankles. I did as requested, trying to achieve the required distance. The strain on my ankles and the pressure of my toes pushing into the pointy toes of my shoes magnified as I spread my legs. Mr. Stanton attached the spreader bar to one ankle then had me spread a little further and attached the other ankle. This made for a very unstable platform on which to stand. I found that I was using my hands to hold to the cable above my head to make it easier to balance myself. Actually my hands were wrapped around a six-inch length of rubber hose that encircled the steel cable. I had not understood the necessity of this little addition prior to this point, but now I was very happy to take advantage of it. Holding on to a steel cable with my bare hands would not have been possible for very long. I soon wanted out of the painful heels, but I realized that was the 'trial' part of this bondage situation. If I did that, or fell out of my heels, I would just have to get right back into them and start all over again.

I looked down again and saw Mr. Stanton attaching the cables coming from the bottom corners of the frame to a second set of D rings on my ankle cuffs. When he had both the left and right leg clasps in place, I heard that distinctive ratcheting sound of the winch. Both ankle cables were pulled at the same time. They went slowly enough that I was able to slide the toes and heels of my shoes sideways into the new position, without 'falling out of them'. When the winches were stopped, the cables were tautly strung to there respective corners. Looking down at the uncomfortable set up, I saw the left cable attached to the outside D-ring on my leather ankle cuff. The inside D-ring was clasped to the spreader bar. The bar ran its nearly three feet between my widely spread legs and then terminated in another chain link attached to the inside D-ring on my right ankle restraint. The outside ring was pulled tightly to the corner by its attached cable. Very effective immobilization, I thought to myself.

Mr. Thatcher stood and buckled a leather belt about my waist. It was studded with D-rings around its entire length. He used two of these D-rings to attach the cables from the East and West points of the frame to my sides. Again the ratcheting commenced and did not stop, until the belt was pulled tightly enough that is was squeezing my stomach. Just when I thought they were done, I heard the winch start again and my arms were raised upwards. The cable pulled my arms till they were taut, but not high enough to take any of my weight off of my high-heeled perch.

The final ingredients to my bondage were a gag and blind fold. 'My dear, pardon me for this gag', Mr. Stanton began, 'but Mr. Thatcher and I have decided that we had to make your gag at least partially as uncomfortable as last nights. If we did not do this he would have an undue advantage in the scoring.' He held up the gag for me to see. It was a penis gag. The rubber phallus was thick and about four inches long. Yes, I could imagine that this would be as uncomfortable as last nights.

'I can see you point, sirs', I sighed in response, 'we couldn't let any unfairness creep into my decision, now could we?' Smiling I opened my mouth to except the rubber cock.

I generally like to try new things. While I had never used this type of gag before I had blown a number of men before, so I wasn't anticipating any problems. It always amazed what a man would do to get a good blow job. He would stand on his head and whistle Dixie, if he knew that that would be his reward.

I could make Dave, my ex, do anything I wanted for an entire evening by just whispering in his ear what was waiting for him at the end of the night. For myself, I took it as a personal challenge to see how much of my lover's manhood that I could get into my mouth and down my throat. I had even learned to drink his cum, simply because of how crazy it made him. Ah, if only I could have made him more interesting. Or if only he had taken more control, and behaved like a man...

I could tell that the two gentlemen before me would not have been as easily manipulated. In fact at the moment the shoe was on the other foot. The penis slid easily between my lips, despite its unusual width. It was only as the final few centimeters went in that I could feel it press up against the roof of my mouth and back of my throat. I had to fight off my gag reflex as it was pressed home. Unlike a real penis this one did not bend quite as easily and felt like a fully erect cock from the moment it went in. Usually I have time to work up to that feeling and get used to it, but now wam bam thank you mam. The leather straps were buckled behind my head and I was left with my mouth stretched widely open and my throat stuffed with a circumcised rubber head.

The blindfold would have been anticlimactic if they hadn't started one of the stupid devices you use when you're learning to play music. The metronome gave off that loud tick-tick sound that you couldn't block out making you aware of every second that passed and making every minute seem twice as long. I wasn't sure which one of their ideas this was regardless it was fiendishly clever.

Two hours started to look like an eternity. Even my dress, which I had picked to wear for the eroticism of being bound in it, was becoming uncomfortable. Spreading my legs so much had caused it to be pulled taut against my left leg and when that wasn't enough it began to bunch up beneath my rear end. Not that it was painful just one more nuisance.

The cuffs held my wrists as comfortably as possible, but I was still putting a lot of weight against them at the tops, which were digging into the back of my hands. The penis gag made breathing through my nose necessary, and generally just was a pain in the neck. The pumps though were truly the punishment item they were intended to be. Even after learning the trick of moving my heels more towards the center and my toes towards their respective corners, they were still downright uncomfortable. Painful is probably a more appropriate term, but I had a hard time using it in my mind, as I was the one initiating it.

Human feet are simply not made to have their heels held six inches in the air. This forces much of the weight of your body down the steep incline of the shoes sole and into the tight confines of their pointed toes. Usually your weight is spread out evenly over your entire foot, say if you are wearing sneakers. With heels though the amount of surface area that your weight is spread upon is what is left of the sole that touches the ground. To make matters worse, as the height of the heel increases more of the sole is need to create the arch from toe to heel. Consequently less of the sole is available as surface area against which your weight can find purchase.

Yes, I had much too much time to think while being bound. Suffice it to say, that my toes were being squeezed into my mile high pumps and if it hadn't been for the gag I would have been begging for their removal after the first fifteen minutes. I don't think that I would have had a problem handling the pumps, if my legs weren't spread so far apart and if I could move them a bit. But, there was no relief to be found for my pain peds in this position.

In honesty I could get out of this if necessary. They had given me a ball to hold in one hand and I was to drop it if the situation became too intense for me. I refused to do so. Instead, I worked on soaking up all of the feelings passing through me. The painful ones as well as the few pleasurable ones. Yes, despite my painstaking position, I was still sexually excited. In fact I had been dying for some sexual release for almost two days now. The new bondage position continued to warm my aching loins. This in itself had both pleasure and pain associated with it. Oh, God did I need to cum! Time wore on.

Unlike last night where I knew that the men were always close by, tonight they left me in silence. Only the beat of the metronome filled the air. I wasn't sure if they were still there sitting quietly watching me or if the had adjourned to the upstairs. They did check on me at intervals, I suppose to make sure that I had not dropped the ball. But also to make sure that I hadn't 'fallen out of' or more likely kicked off the killer heels.

About twelve hours later or at least that's what it seemed like, I felt the cable holding my arms begin to loosen. 'Time is up, my dear', Mr. Thatcher said brightly. I felt one of them remove my pumps from my aching feet. My poor soles were almost paralyzed, so it took me a few moments to recognize the feeling of my comfortable slippers being put onto my feet. My scrunched toes were giving off that pins and needles feeling that you get from being out in the cold too long as the circulation returns.

One man stripped out the penis gag, while the other freed my ankles. After I had gotten used to the penis gag, I had decided that it wasn't as bad as the harness gag with the huge ball. It left my mouth with that same kind of slurping sound that you hear when you're giving a blow job. I wondered if I had done that unintentionally or if that were normal? The blindfold and the wrist restraints quickly followed.

Mr. Stanton held my arm and led me over to a waiting chair. I slumped into it exhaustedly. This bondage had been much more strenuous than the previous evenings. 'How do you feel, my dear', Mr. Thatcher asked me.

'I don't think that I am supposed to divulge that information until tomorrow morning, sir', I responded.

He looked at me kindly and said, 'your trails are over young lady.'

You have seen both worlds, as it were, and are now in a position to make a judgment.'

I looked over at Mr. Stanton, 'Your not trying to get out of binding me to my bed tonight, are you sir?', I asked.

'No, of course not, my dear', he responded quickly.

'Then I believe that I should reserve my judgment until the morning, sirs', I finished.

Mr. Thatcher laughed and Mr. Stanton joined in. 'We have been out foxed by a newbie sub, Arch', Mr. Thatcher said. 'How do you like that.'?

Mr. Stanton laughed again and responded, 'I love it. I don't think I've had this much fun with any of our models, since the time we bound your wife for the first new style catalog.'

That little remark breathed new life into my tired bones. 'If you gentlemen don't mind I would like to take a shower and prepare for bed. I would appreciate if you could be available in, say half an hour?' I informed the happy gentlemen. They made depreciating gestures and said that they would be there with 'bells on'.

I made it back to my room and stripped. Did some stretching exercises and then took my shower. Sliding the stimulator pack in, I took a few more seconds and turned the vibrator on. It felt so good, but just as I was nearing my climax, someone knocked on my door. I quickly turned off the vibrator saying loudly, 'Just a minute'. I threw on my pink silk PJ's and slid into my pink slippers. I couldn't do anything about the flush on my face so I opened the door.

'I am sorry to rush you, my dear' Mr. Thatcher started. 'But it's getting late and we've got a full day planned for tomorrow.'

I responded a little shakily, 'No problem, I was just doing some stretching exercises to relieve some muscle tension.' I laid down upon the bed and said, 'whenever your ready'. They bond me the same as the previous evening, with the exception of using leather cuffs and straps rather than rope. The bean bag gag and sleep mask were put in place and then I heard the door shut.

Unlike last night I did not get to sleep easily. I tried shifting my hips and rubbing my buttocks back and forth, hoping to shift the dildos enough to get me off. I had little success. I was simply bound too tightly. Groaning through the gag in frustration, I lay back totally spent.

At breakfast the next morning I could tell that both men were anxiously awaiting my decisions. After I had been unsuccessful in my masturbation attempts, I lay exhaustedly with little to do but think. Therefore I had given plenty of thought to what I was about to say.

'Good morning, gentlemen', I said as I poured myself a cup of coffee. Setting up a dish of fruit and adding a cup of yogurt I sat down at the table. I looked at the two men and began, 'I am sorry Mr. Stanton, but I think that I preferred rope to the leather restraints. I truthfully have a difficult time saying that one was more comfortable than the other, but I did prefer the personal touch of the rope.'

Mr. Thatcher looked smugly at his friend. I continued quickly, 'On the other hand Mr. Thatcher, your original thesis that rope could replace leather restraints, is well... all wet.' I paused as Mr. Thatcher frowned and Mr. Stanton smiled.

'I truly don't believe that you could ship your kits without Mr. Stanton's wonderful leather goods. Mainly, because of there ease of use, but also because they are comfortable. My final word on the subject is that an admitted expert bound me. Mr. Stanton has attested to this himself and he seems to be an expert in his own right. Now, if a lesser rope man had bound me, it is doubtful that I would have reached my current conclusion. Therefore, for the most common bondage enthusiast leather restraints are probably the way to go. Again, I am new to all of this but that is the way that I feel.'

I sipped my coffee and ate a little of my food. I felt that I had assuaged both of their egos without straying from the truth. 'Mr. Stanton', I began again. 'You won the most uncomfortable bondage scenario. I didn't think that anyone could beat your breast bondage, Mr. Thatcher, it was masterful, but....' I let my voice trail off and shook my head. 'I know that I will love the pumps you have given me, ...worn properly that is, Mr. Stanton. But, used in a punishment capacity, they were far more uncomfortable than the breast bondage.

Anyhow gentlemen those are my decisions.' Both men looked pleased with my answers and I was happy that I could give each of them one of the accolades, with a clear conscience. But what I said was true. In point of fact my feet were still so sore that I was wearing flats today, rather than the more normal office wear of mid-sized heels. With my plaid skirt and white shirt I doubted that anyone would even notice the small incongruity.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 5 - Painful Lesson in Sisterhood

By the White Knight

The workday went much as it had the day before. More meetings and more notes. The tone of these meetings was positive and I took that to mean that Mr. Thatcher was going to get at least some of the concessions that he was looking for. I was finally released from my duties at 4:00pm, in order to go back to the house and see if Lucinda had gotten there yet. I drove as fast as the law would allow and than a few miles an hour faster hoping that I would beat Lucinda to the house. I desperately needed sexual release by this point. In fact throughout the day I had had to squirm in my chair a few times to relieve the pressure which still resided between my legs.

There were lights on and a Mercedes in the driveway. I had not won my race. I went into the house looking for her. 'Lucinda', I called. Strangely I heard her voice coming from the direction of my bedroom. When I walked in I was shocked and embarrassed by what greeted me.

Lucinda had spread all of my toys on my bed. The multi pack stimulator, the beginners' bondage kit and even my crotch less undies. She was dressed in a short leather jacket, a leather skirt and high-heeled boots. She held her baton in both hands and looked at me sternly.

'I have been told that you settled a dispute between Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Stanton. Is this true?'

I didn't know what she was so upset about and decided to ask her, 'I don't understand what the problem is Lucinda....' I yelped and jumped backwards. She had slashed my outstretched placating hands with her baton and it stung like the dickens.

'Silence', she shouted. 'Is this true or not?'

I rubbed my burning hands and answered, 'Yes, it's true'.

Lucinda continued her questioning, 'And in doing so did you sub for the two gentlemen?' I looked at her blankly. She rephrased the question, 'Did you play the part of the submissive for the two gentlemen?'

I looked at her, if she had already heard the story than she should know that I had. 'Yes', I answered not wishing to feel the bite of her stick again.

'Why, did you do that', she asked me sternly. I answered honestly, 'I wanted a real bondage experience, with someone beside myself. I thought what better place to start than with two experts, such as Mr. Thatcher and Stanton.'

She nodded her head accepting my reply. 'Did you try to seduce the gentlemen in anyway?'

Now I got mad, 'I most certainly did not....', I shouted.

'You stupid little girl', she cut me off as she yelled at me. 'You wanted a 'real' bondage experience so you went to two married men. Well, let me tell you what you actually got. You got what they call, 'love bondage' from those two nice gentlemen. Excluding the love making part of course. They play with their wives, girl, they wouldn't know 'real' B&D if it kicked them in the butt. ' She poked me in the ass with her wooden rod as she spoke. 'I led you down the road. I gave you every opportunity to come to me and let me be your teacher and this is how you repay me?' She made the last statement sound like a question.

'Lucinda', I began. 'How could I know?' The short cane landed viciously on my buttocks.

'OOOOhhhhhh', I yelped. 'Open the box on the bed', she commanded. I had tears in the corners of my eyes but I did as instructed. Inside was my new red and black satin corset. 'This was to have been the present I would give to you to introduce you to the B&D world, now it will be a mere portion of your punishment.' She paused eyeing me, daring me to speak. 'Oh, yes', she continued, 'you will be punished for how shabbily you have treated me.' She stared at me and commanded, 'Strip naked immediately.'

I kicked off my flats and shimmied out of my pantyhose. Skirt and blouse came next, leaving me in only my white bra and panties. 'All of it', she commanded as I paused. I unhooked my bra and slipped off my panties, letting them fall to my feet. I self-consciously crossed my hands over my pubic hair. 'Hands at behind your neck', Lucinda commanded. I put my hands quickly in place. She walked around me, running her short staff over my sensitive skin. 'You wanted a taste of true Bondage and Discipline; well here is your chance. You will refer to me as Mistress and I will refer to you as...slave. You will do everything that I instruct you to do. If you deviate in anyway from those instructions, you will be punished.' She walked around to my front and looked me directly in the eyes. I couldn't help but lower my eyes to the ground, as I was stared down. 'Do you understand and except these conditions?', she asked in a quiet cobra like hiss. Lucinda was giving me an out. Right now, one chance only at the proverbial `get out of jail free' card. Either I took whatever she wanted to dish out to me or I never learned what she meant by a real B&D experience. I was afraid of my punishment, but somehow it excited me also. My sex started to heat up when she had mentioned that word and had not cooled off since.

'May the slave ask a question?', I asked quietly, keeping my eyes on the floor.

'You may', she responded.

'If I agree is this for tonight or for always', I dared to ask.

She laughed at my obvious discomfort, 'You're agreement is only for this evening', she informed me. 'But let me warn you, if you are truly a slave, you will be the one who wishes to continue this arrangement. In fact you will beg to be allowed to continue to serve me or some other dominant.'

Was I truly a slave? Is that why I loved to be bound and was excited by all of these things that would have sent shivers of fear down my spine only a few short weeks ago. As for punishment, I had just survived breast bondage and the high heel torture. And I found that either didn't turn me off. In fact I even like the breast bondage a little bit. Did all of these things make me a slave? And, if I am inclined in that direction did I really want to know?

'Yes, mistress', I told Lucinda, 'I agree to your follow your instructions.' I needed to know.

'Hold out your left hand', Lucinda commanded me. When I did so, the baton flashed so quickly that I didn't even see it. But I felt it.

'Ooooouuuuugggghhh', I howled as I grabbed my wounded hand. Now there were full tears in my eyes. I shifted from foot to foot and put my sore hand under my armpit. I looked up at her.

'Very good', she said. 'I had to know if you were sincere. If you had questioned my right to snap your hand or even asked why I had done it, then I would have had serious doubts about you.' I wasn't sure whether I had been complimented or insulted, so I remained quiet. The baton stung like a school ruler, but did no lasting damage, so my hand quickly stopped hurting.

'The first order of business is to get you dressed', Lucinda told me. 'Put these on', she ordered. I took the fine black silk hose form her and rolled one expertly. Sitting on the edge of the bed I unrolled it over my calf and up my leg until the lace top rested upon my thigh. The second stocking went on just as quickly.

She reached into the box and pulled out the lovely satin corset, then handed it to me. `Put it on'. I looked at the loosely laced garment and noted the metal clasps placed uniformly down the either sides of the front of the garment. `Hook the top clasp first and then work your way down.' Ah, yes that made sense I thought as I followed Lucinda's advice. In seconds the heavy material was fastened about my body, with the clasps hidden beneath a concealing flap of matching material.

'Now, stand before the corner post of the bed and hold it with both hands', she ordered. When I was in position, she began to tighten the laces. I was glad that the material was soft, because it tightened about me rapidly and I figured that leather wouldn't be anywhere near as comfortable. I groaned, as she pulled hard on the laces.

'Normally, I would let you learn your corset more slowly. Reducing your waist size by only two inches or so the first couple of times... But, lucky you, I'm going to let you have all four inches of pull on your very first try!', Lucinda said snippily. Putting her knee on my butt, she pulled with all of her might.

I groaned loudly in protest. Try to imagine putting your waist and chest into a vice and then slowly turning the handle to tighten it. This is what I was feeling. I found that it was getting more and more difficult to breathe as first my diaphragm and now my chest was becoming tightly confined into the satin garment.

Lucinda walked around me attaching each of the six garters to the top of its respective hose. 'Go look in the mirror', she commanded. I walked over and gasped at the sight. 'Oh my God, is that really me', I stammered. My normally small waist truly looked like the narrow opening of an hourglass that everyone associated with corsets. The dip from my rib cage to my hips was no longer a gentle in turn, but was now more like a dramatic twin canyons.

I looked over my shoulders at my back and saw that there were no gaps in the material. My legs were covered with the silk hose and I visually checked the seams to make sure that they were straight. The canyons at my waist seemed even larger when you looked from hips upwards. My ass cheeks formed white globes of firm flesh above the stockings and below my red corset.

I turned forward and ran my hands upwards over the taut satin until they reached the black half cups, which held my breasts. I re-arranged them into the most comfortable positioning that I could find, but it was still a tight fit. My twin mounds were forced upwards and together, making my chest appear to be one nearly flat shelf, jutting away from my body. Only the dark line of the crack between breasts gave even the hint of cleavage. My dark aureoles peeked over the top of the material. The corsets constant pressure made it difficult to breathe normally, so I found myself taking more short intakes of air. This caused my pretty shelf of warm flesh to rise and fall to my quickened breathing.

'Do you like what you see in the mirror', Lucinda asked in a raspy hiss.

'I love what I see', I gasped in delight, '...Mistress.' I added quickly. I had learned from the gentlemen that failing to title your principle appropriately would lead to severe discipline.

'Do you love yourself or the garment', Lucinda asked softly.

'I love the way the corset makes me look. To me this is the apex of sexy, Mistress'.

Lucinda caressed my naked buttocks with her stick. 'Who do you want to see you, when you wear your sexy corset', she asked sweetly.

Embarrassed, I didn't answer right away. 'Ooooohhhhhh', I cried as the hard wood met my buttocks, with a resounding crack.

'You must tell me the truth, or I will punish you further, slave', she said sternly.

'My imaginary lover, mistress', I groaned, dejectedly looking at my feet.

Walking in front of me she used her black rod to push my head upward and looked into my eyes. 'Is your imaginary lover a man, or... a woman?', she asked with a look that worried me.

With growing trepidation, I closed my eyes and answered truthfully, 'A man, mistress.' I tightened my body expecting the blow that never came.

'Ah', she said knowingly. 'And why do want to dress so sexily for this imaginary man', she queried. Now we were on familiar territory. I had thought about these things quite a lot so my answers came more quickly.

'To inflame his desire for me, to match my own desire for him', I replied.

Lucinda smiled, 'So you wear this garment that you 'love', because it excites your imaginary lover. Does it excite you, also?'

I blushed and looked down. 'Yes, Mistress', I responded softly.

Her leather-gloved hand reached down between my legs. I gasped as her fingers ruffled through my pubic hair and briefly touched my cunt lips. She raised the glove to her eye level, so that we could both see that it was glistening with my juices.

'Tsk, Tsk, Tsk', she said. 'My you are a little bitch in heat aren't you?' I took this as a rhetorical question and did not respond. 'You've barely been touched and you are hotter than a furnace.' She paused and smiled at me. 'You are hot little slave, aren't you?' she asked.

Feeling miserable at my increased embarrassment, I moaned, 'Yes, mistress.'

Her smile widened, 'And just how hot is our little slave girl.' Just thinking about it was making it worse.

'I'm burning up, mistress!' I responded in anguish.

'Put your hands behind your neck and spread you legs', Lucinda commanded. She stood in front of me; the baton tucked under one arm. Using both leather-encased hands she slowly caressed the insides of my thighs.

'Ooooohhhh', I groaned in pleasure. She ran her hands around my legs, sliding them over the soft silk of my stockings, playing with the elastic of the garters, but always ending near my lower mouth. With both of her hands caressing my thighs just below my hungry lips, she asked, 'Do you like this?'

My breathing was becoming ragged, 'Yes, mistress. I love it!' I responded not opening my eyes.

'Then you would like me to continue rubbing you... at least enough to let you have an orgasm, wouldn't you?', she asked in that snake-like whispering hiss of hers.

'Yes, mistress, please, mistress let me climax,' I begged. Her hands continued to touch my inner thighs, but only lightly brushed against my mound from time to time. 'How long has it been since you last came.'

I blushed. 'You know', she continued since you last jerked off'. She used the rude male term for the act, but I was so sexually frustrated that I didn't care.

'Last Friday', I moaned.

'So what would you do for me if I allowed you to achieve climax', she asked. I didn't like the way she said allowed and I definitely didn't like the way this conversation was turning.

'What would mistress, want me to do?' I asked quietly. The Cheshire cat smile returned. 'Why, dear slave I would want you to knell between my legs, put you head under my skirt and eat me until I came, of course. When I am finished I would like you to clean me off with your tongue, so that all of my juices are swept away.'

I stiffened as her fingers now boldly rubbed my aching sex. 'Do you want me to make you come', Lucinda asked me slyly.

'Aaaaarrrrrggghhhh', I moaned in frustration. 'No, mistress, I do not want you to make me come.' Her smile faded and she removed her hands from my sex.

'A fair answer, but truthfully not the one I had expected.' She paused then asked, 'If I had been a man, would you have knelt in front of me and sucked my cock?'

I raised my eyes until I was looking into hers and responded, 'If you were my male lover, then yes, I would have done so.'

She sighed and said, 'Ah well, so much for fun and games. It's time to get back to your punishment.'

'Pick up the red heels from the chair over there and put them on', Lucinda ordered. There were two open boxes on the chair by the door. One held the red heels and the other the white heels from the night before. I went to bend to retrieve the red ones, and I almost busted a gut. Or at least broke some ribs.

'Stupid slave', she chastised me. 'When you are wearing a corset you never try to bend at the waist. If you are very athletic you could bend at the hips, while keeping your back straight, but most women dip.'

I looked at her perplexed. 'Crouch straight downwards, until your butt is just over your heels. The key is to keep your back straight', she informed me. I did so balancing on the toe pads of my feet as my heels came off the ground. I extracted both of the heels from the box and stood up.

I had not had time to closely look at these pumps before and now I could see their obvious differences from the black and gold pumps. This pump had a thick red ankle belt to top it off, graced with a bright gold buckle. The spike heel was not as tall as yesterday's selection either, probably around five inches. Higher than I liked, but better than the six plus inch heels on the black pumps. Of course now that I had them, I couldn't figure out how to get them on.

I knew that I couldn't bend over that far, what was I to do? 'Oh, sit down on the end of the bed' Lucinda said realizing my predicament. She knelt before me and slid my foot into the steeply arched interior. Once my toes were firmly in place she buckled the soft leather tightly about my ankle. The left foot followed next.

'Stand up', she ordered. Doing my best to keep my back straight and only bending at my hips, I balanced myself on the tall heels. Using my hands, I levered myself forward off of the bed into a crouching position and then rose into a standing position.

She threw the red satin gloves to me and said, 'Put these on and then march down to the basement, slave', Lucinda commanded me. The soft satin flowed onto my arms. I walked awkwardly in my new heels. These were much more comfortable than the black pumps and I wondered if yesterday's shoes had been cut a half size to small. I decided that I would check it out and return them if necessary.

'Ooouuuccchhh', I yelped and almost stumbled as her wicked rod slammed across my naked white moons. 'Your posture is terrible', Lucinda informed me. 'Straighten that back and walk properly. You look like you have some type of dysfunctional disease.' I straightened my back, but I was having trouble mastering the heels.

'Stop here, and just walk back and forth', she ordered. For the next ten minutes she treated me like a sergeant and a recruit learning to march. Walking right along side of me, she would switch a leg or buttocks at each faulty step.

Crack. The thin wood rod would land against my soft flesh. I quickly got used to the pain and only winced now, at each stroke. 'Come on, slave', she chided me. 'You've worn high heels before. The concept isn't any different now, you just have to concentrate more.' Come on heel and then toe, but use less of an angle so the land nearly at the same time… One foot in front of the other...' These and other like imprecations rained down upon me. 'In time you won't even have to think about it. Wearing them will become as second nature as wearing any pair of heels', she assured me. Finally, I made two passes properly, so she called a halt and ordered me into the basement.

The wooden frame and all of the restraints that we had used last night were still out. Lucinda didn't waste anytime and quickly buckled cuffs around my wrists and ankles. Unlike last night she attached a spreader bar between my wrists, which separated them by about three feet. A similar bar, set at the same width, also fettered my ankles. She attached the twelve o'clock cable to the eyebolt in the center of the spreader bar separating my wrists. Using the winch my wrists were drawn above my head, but she stopped it well before they had last night.

'OOOOOhhhhhh', I screamed and jumped forward. She came from behind me and showed me the whip that she had just used to blister my butt. 'This is referred to as a short bladed whip', my mistress instructed me. It had a foot long braided leather handle and a dozen or so short strips of leather branching from the top. 'It's best used against breasts, inner thighs anywhere the skin is tender and prone to easy damage. These softer and wider blades do no permanent damage to these sensitive areas, but I am sure you will find them effective.'

She disappeared behind me. I closed my eyes and tensed my body, pulling my butt forward as far from her as possible. 'No, no, no slave', Lucinda said snappily. 'Move your legs back here, then bend forward and give me a good target, otherwise I'll try this next whip on a more sensitive location.'

Oh God, oh God, oh God, I muttered to myself. She was going to whip me. That was my punishment, I now realized. I slid my feet backwards and leaned forward.

My back was forced to stay straight because of the corset and my legs were taut like cables because of the spreader bar and the heels. My strained shoulder blades were holding most of my body weight. Bright ringlets of hair fell forward about my bowed head, which hung between spread arms. My hands balled into fists and I closed my eyes expecting the worst. It seemed like an eternity waiting for the blow to be struck.

'Aaaaiiiiieeeee', I screamed. This whip was much worse than the last. My entire rear end felt like it was on fire.

Again Lucinda proceeded to show me the cruel weapon. 'This is also a multi bladed short whip, but the strands are braided and narrower and at the end of each is a knot. The braids are worse the leather strips, but it is the knot at the end that really makes this one so dangerous.' She slid behind me again. 'You've moved again slave' she called. 'Back into position.' Biting my lip, I moved my aching posterior back where she wanted it.

Thwack! 'Aaooohhhhhhh', I gasped as I sucked in air. The initial pain of this weapon had not been as intense as its last counterpart, but the pain in my buttocks continued to build and build. I winced in continued discomfort as Lucinda showed me the paddle she had used on me.

'This is obviously a paddle, the same type used by many prep schools to initiate members into their fraternities. As you can see though it has been slightly modified. Holes have been drilled over the entire surface. This means that the air will not be allowed to form a cushion between you and the paddle. It is much more efficient this way, my dear slave.'

She walked in front of me tapping the paddle into her second leather-covered palm. 'Your punishment will consist of three dozens strokes. One dozen with each of the whips you have just experienced.' My eyes widened and I gasped.

Three dozen, oh my God! 'All slaves are initiated into their submission, by the formal administration of a whipping.' She paused looking at me perhaps waiting for me to object. 'This will be your initiation to slavedom, and you are to follow these rules: First, you will count each stroke as it lands, saying the number and than thanking me for whipping you. Finally you will ask for another.

Second, you must not loose count of the strokes that have fallen upon you; otherwise we will start over at one. Third, if at any time during the proceedings that you decide that you do not have what it takes to be a slave, then you are to say 'mercy mistress'. Any other imprecations, such as stop, no more, I beg you... will be ignored. Only 'mercy mistress' will stop your punishment. Do you understand these rules?'

Taking a deep breath, I answered, 'Yes, mistress'. I couldn't stop now. I had to know where I fit into this B&D / S&M scene. I had already determined that I loved to be bound. The more painful aspects that I had already encountered hadn't seemed so bad. In some ways they were exciting. But, now submitting to a whipping... by a woman mistress, no less. My curiosity told me that I had to find my place. Bowing my head between my arms, I prepared for the worst.

'Oh, one last little indignity that I forgot to mention', she started. Ding, ding, and ding. I looked up to see her shaking two small brass bells in her hand. 'These will be attached to your nipples. I am sure that you will find that they produce a most interesting sensation when worn in this way.' Her hand reached down to my chest and pushed under the tight material of my half cups.

Finding my left nipple, she squeezed and rolled it between thumb and forefinger. When my nipple hardened to her manipulations, she pulled it painfully upwards and outwards.

'Oooohhhhh', I winced. She followed a similar routine with my right nipple. Soon both distended nipples were a full inch above the tight half cups. I watched as she took the clamp attached to one of the bells and let it close slowly over the nipple.

My eyes widened, as the pressure of the clamp was released on the sensitive skin. 'God Lord, that hurts...mistress', I stammered. She applied the second clamp and then brushed her hands against both of the small bells making them ring.

'AAArrrrrgggghhhh', I yelled staring down at the small little seemingly inoffensive clasps that were causing me such pain. My rasping breath made my chest rise and fall rapidly. I saw the bells swing and sway to this motion, pulling on the tender tip of my nipples. Unbelievably I felt the painful pressure send almost electric shocks into excited sex organs.

I had almost forgotten how much I was dying to orgasm, being so concentrated on my upcoming ordeal. Now, my fire was back with a passion. 'Uuuuugggghhhh', I moaned in frustration.

"Hmmm, it seems that your nipples are still tender from your breast bondage of a few days ago", Lucinda mused. "Normally someone with your high pain tolerance wouldn't be affected quite so strongly by my little musical friends."

TWACK. 'OOOOOWWWWWW', that was the hardest shot yet. TWACK. My body jerked forward, my mouth opened but I held in the cry.

TWACK. My rear end burned across both cheeks. 'Well, I guess you like being spanked so much that you don't want me to stop', Lucinda said lightly. 'So far we are going for fifteen strokes, unless you decide not to count the next one that land also'.

TWACK. 'One', I cried realizing my error. 'Thank you mistress, may I have another.'

TWACK. 'Ohhhhhhh', I moaned. This one was worse as she only hit the right cheek.

'Two', I groaned. 'Thank you mistress, may I have another.'

TWACK. God, the left cheek. 'Three', I pried out between my gritted teeth. 'Thank you mistress, may I have another.' The paddle continues to land on my bare ass. Each stroke heightened the pain in my posterior and at the same time shook me enough to cause the bells to ring.

The burning pain across my pink buttocks and the pleasure / pain shocks from the nipple clamps made my sex ache. I hurt so badly... and it made me so hot. God, I wanted to climax.

TWACK. 'Nine', I whined breathlessly. 'Thank you mistress, may I have another.' I tensed my buttock muscles for the next stroke. It didn't land. I could feel my muscles quivering from the tension of trying to remain clenched.

TWACK. 'Oooooowwwww', I yelled. She must have used both hands and swatted me against both cheeks. My buttocks were pushed forward by the force of the blow and my knees nearly buckled. 'TEN', I snapped anxiously, beginning to straighten. 'Thank you mistress...may I have another.

As soon as I had managed to bring myself even closely into position...

TWACK. 'Arrrrgggghhhh', I groaned in pain. This time my knees did buckle and my twin-cuffed wrists were supporting all of my weight. 'Elllevvvveeenn', I stammered, from my crouched position. My rear end was positioned directly over my spread ankles, rotating of it own accord. The pain was incredible.

TWACK. Without even waiting for me to regain the proper posture, Lucinda sent a sizzling under hand cut upward against my butt. My tired legs found the strength to spring me to attention as I screamed, 'TWELVE', through the pain. The paddle had clipped a piece of my pussy and the pain from that was so great it was like all the others before hadn't counted.

'Oh, poor baby', she crooned. 'It seems that I went just a little bit too far with that last stroke.' My body was still in shock, legs taut as cables standing straight up. Lucinda began to gently rub my sex and another jolt passed through my body. All of the pain seemed to transfer into the sexual heat burning between my legs. It was like someone had switched the current from DC to AC.

Her hand rubbed back and forth over my love mound. 'Ohhhhh, yes', I groaned closing my eyes and relaxing. I felt something hard slide between my wet pussy lips, it felt like a dildo with a head and a stiff body. 'Yes, Yessss, Yesssss', I moaned in ecstasy as she pushed and pulled the stiff penis in and out of me. I quickly began to squat down to meet her thrust and impale myself further on the hard rod. It wasn't as pliable as my own dildo when it went deep into my love canal, but I loved its every movement.

'Yessss, Yesss... Oh Yeessssss', I moaned as my breathing quickened and my orgasm neared. Even the bells bouncing on my chest were adding to my unbridled excitement.

Lucinda slowed her movements, 'Beg slave. Beg so that I will let you cum.' Her manipulations had almost stopped. My wrists suspended me as I hung as low as I could, doing everything possible to push the dildo into me.

'Please, Please.... Pleaaaaaseee, mistress', I wheedled and whined in frustration. 'Please make me cum.'

The Cheshire smile was back, 'Of course I will dear slave... If you will eat me first slave, what do you say? Yes or No.'

I threw my head back and screamed in anger and frustration. 'NO, MISTRESS', I cried as tears slid down my cheeks.

She immediately pulled the object out of my cunt and said easily, 'Assume the position, slave'. I continued to cry frustrated tears. The whipping had hurt like hell, but it hadn't made me cry. This sexual teasing had though, and it was wearing me down. I tensed my quivering butt muscles once again.

Crack. 'Aaaaaiiieeeeeeee', I screamed once more. The blow had landed on my back this time. If was definitely the braided whip and while some of the strands had landed on the thick protecting satin, the rests landed across my naked shoulder blades.

When I finally regained my breath, I stammered, 'One. Thank you mistress may I have another.'

Swish. CRACK. I was thrust against my bonds by the weight of the blow. 'Two', I said through gritted teeth. 'Thank you mistress may I have another'.

Swish. CRACK. 'OOOoooowwwwoooo', I moaned. 'Threeeee', I whined and then I thanked Lucinda and asked for the next stroke.

'Oh, my', she said. 'You should see your back. All these little pink lines running everywhere, with some larger pink dots where the knots landed. It looks almost like a road map.' Pink lines I wondered, hell they felt like open wounds. 'I don't think that I would wear that see-through shirt of yours tomorrow.' Lucinda finished with a smirk.

Swish. Crack. 'Four, mistress. May I have another.' She moved to my legs now starting at the top of my right thigh and working downward. Each time the whip connected with my leg, the braided strands would wrap around it until the knots landed. Four strokes down my right leg and four strokes up my left leg.

'Eeelllleeeveeen, mistress. May I pleeease have another', I stammered out tiredly.

'I don't think that you should wear stockings tomorrow either, dear slave', Lucinda teased me. 'Unless of course you want everyone to know that you were whipped the night before. Yes, I think a slacks outfit would be your best bet.' The last one came down sharply between my shoulder blades, pushing the air out of my lungs in its intensity.

'Twwweeellvveee', I groaned. 'Please mistress may I have another.'

'Oh, you would like another', Lucinda asked. 'Well, I thought that we were done with this whip, but... if you really want another one with it I would be happy to do so.'

My tired mind processed what she was saying and I screamed, 'NOOO. No thank you mistress. May I please have another with the last whip.'

She smiled, 'Of course you can slave. But first I thought I'd try this again.' Her hand began to rub my sex once more. This time looking down I saw it was the handle of the whip that she was thrusting into me. AC switched to DC, and my tired body doggedly began to respond.

'Nooo, Nooo, please don't do that again, mistress', I begged.

'But, you do want to cum, don't you?', she asked continuing her manipulations. Yes, I wanted to cum so badly it hurt. My resistance was crumbling about me.

'No animals, no groups... no women', I mumbled to myself. I had made this rule up when I was barely eighteen years old. I had needed it after my disastrous first love affair. At seventeen he convinced me to let him have me. In only a few months he had convinced me that it was all right for me to give him blow jobs. But soon he wanted more. Unknown to me he had been seeing another girl. A senior. She was as desperately in love with him as I was; I found this out because he brought us together one evening.

My parents were out and when he arrived at my house, she was with him. Right out he told us that he had been seeing, each of us separately, but now it had come time for us to serve him together. I don't remember how he convinced us, but he did it.

All three of us naked on the soft living room carpet went at it. We alternated sucking his cock, riding it up and down from the top position, or kissing and fondling him while he screwed the other. I wanted him so much, that it all seemed to make sense. When he had come as many times as he possibly could, it had gotten nasty. He started calling us sluts and ordered us to kiss each other. If we complained he slapped us and finally ordered us to eat each other. At the end of the evening after everyone had left, I decided that I had never felt worse about myself then just then. In the shower I made up my rules. I called up Ami, his other lover, and told her what I was feeling and that I couldn't do this any more. She agreed and finally we confronted our soon to be ex-boyfriend. He laughed when we told him it was over, threatening us with public humiliation. We laughed back and told him if he tried that we would tell, every girl in the school that we had almost went all the way with him, but when we saw how small his penis was we couldn't stop laughing. I thought he was going to hit us, but he just turned red and stormed away.

'No animals, No groups, No women', I moaned once again to myself.

Lucinda continued thrusting the handle of the whip into my aching sex organ. 'Hmmmm', she asked silkily. 'Are you ready to pay the fee for sexual release or shall we get back to your punishment.'

I hung frustrated and tired in my restraints. 'No women...' I mumbled. More determinedly I continued, 'Please continue with my punishment mistress.' I winced and bit my lip as the whip handle slipped out of my sex.

'Assume the position', Lucinda ordered once again. I straightened my legs and leaned forward. I opened my tired eyes as I felt a cool wind blowing against my overheated love mound. My eyes widened as I realized that the wind was coming from Lucinda's remaining punishment instrument. She was rotating the whip in such a way that the leather blades were revolving like the propeller on an airplane engine. Worst of all though was that the leather fan was getting closer and closer to my poor cunny.

'No... no... Your not going to whip me there?' I stammered in disbelief. She just smiled at me and raised the whip a little closer. The rotating blades finally met my love mound, in a constant slapping motion.

'Ohhhh..... Ohhhhh......Ohhhh', I stammered again and again. My body stiffened as each and every muscle tightened to fight off the flying fingers of pain. 'No... Not there', I said more forcefully.

She smiled again and replied, 'Oh yes, dear slave...THERE!'

SNAAAPPP. Lucinda slammed the whip upwards into my exposed sex. 'Aaaaiiiiiiieeeeeeee', I howled in pain. My whole body jerked towards the ceiling, but there was no hiding from the intense pain that flashed through me. Compared to the other strokes this one would have been considered light, but the tender skin that the thin leather strips smacked made the whole area burn.

'Count, slave', Lucinda commanded.

I had almost forgotten as my mind was blanked by the newly experienced agony. 'One', I shouted quickly. 'Thank you mistress, may I have another'. I added more breathlessly. My body had stopped taking in air for a few seconds and I almost had to remember how to do it.

Gasping, my chest heaved, sending the dangling bells to pealing brightly. The disregarded discomfort of my nipples resurfaced until it was a prominent factor in the pains racking my body.

Swish. SNNNAAAAPPP. I screeched and tried desperately to pull myself upwards and away from the incredible torment. This one had been only as hard as the last, but only the tips of the whip seemed to find my furry love lips.

'Two', I croaked and asked for my next stroke.

Lucinda took her sweet time between strokes. Sweat was pouring down my now slick form.

'Put your heels back on the floor, and get back into position', Lucinda ordered.

Looking down at my feet I hadn't realized that I was standing on my tiptoes like a ballerina. The pumps themselves remained married to my feet only because of their thick strap closures. I slid back into position. I could feel the muscles between my legs twitch uncontrollably, expecting the next slicing stoke.

SNNAAPPP. I didn't have long to wait. I almost asked for mercy then, but I bit my lip and held on.

The cunt whipping and my counting continued. In between the strokes Lucinda softly rubbed my clit and the little nub within. Just as I would begin to relax and close in on that elusive orgasm... WHAP. The next blow would land. I thought at first that this would turn me off from wanting to climax, but it had exactly the opposite effect! A sexual frenzy over took my confused mind. That pleasure and pain line that they talk so much about began to blur. I cried out as my cunt cringed at each blow and than breathlessly pleaded for her caress. The kiss of the whip and the careful caressing just missed getting me off as I cried in total frustration, 'Twelve'. I yelled and pulled at my bonds.

'Please mistress, may I have another... Please', I begged pitifully.

At first she didn't answer me. Then dropping the whip on the table she emphasized the movement by saying, 'No, Sharon. Part of your punishment is that you won't be allowed to orgasm. Also I think its time that you and I had a long talk'.

Realizing that any further imprecations would be useless, I hung tiredly in my bonds and cried softly. Now that the possibility of me achieving orgasm had been taken away, my entire mind turned to the pain. My whole body felt battered and my lower lips felt like ground meat. But, I knew that I had survived my first whipping. Later I would decide what part of this new experience I would allow into my love life.

Lucinda undid my bonds quickly and helped support me over to a soft love seat. I winced as I tried to sit. Knowingly, she pulled me towards her so that my tear streaked face rested in her leather-covered lap. This allowed my weight to rest on my side and not my blistered bottom. Her fingers flowed softly through my now tangled locks. It was very comforting, almost motherly.

'When I was a young girl', Lucinda began softly, 'I had an awaking such as yours. I was nineteen, at the time though, so I was easily influenced to do whatever my master wanted. All I wanted to do was please him. Two years, while I was in college, I was this man's slave.' Her voice had taken on a dreamy, reminiscent tone. 'While I don't pretend to think that I was ever quite as beautiful as you, my dear, I wasn't bad either. My long platinum blond hair combined with my firm tits and lithe form made me the desire of many men. But I only had eyes for one.'

'He was the one who introduced me to whipping', she continued. 'He took loving care to explain each of its many facets... and like you nearly found out, showed me that applied properly you can achieve orgasms. Many of them even more intense then the pain, which had just been inflicted upon you. In essence, he made me want to be bound and whipped... his love slave.'

She paused, realizing that I was no longer crying and was listening intently. 'You dear Sharon', she said softly. 'Are at those same cross roads. If the right person comes along I have no doubt that you will make him a wonderful slave. But you must be very careful to pick the right person to be your master.' She laughed a little, 'I had thought that you might actually like a mistress to guide you into this new world, but you have obviously decided that only a master will do.' Then she surprised me with a question I had only recently begun to think about. 'What do you want your fantasy master to be like?'

I gulped down air, blushing as I spluttered, 'A lot like Mr. Thatcher... except younger.'

Lucinda chuckled. 'Of course', she said. 'You really liked your little bondage encounter with those two. Hmmm, so it's going to be a true 'love bondage' relationship for you. Not bad, young lady. Mike and Sam are very good role models. She's strong in many ways, like you, and I have never seen her act submissive to him in normal every day life. Yes, that would be good for you. I only wish I had been as smart about my own entrance into this type of life.'

She sat quietly for a moment. 'What happened to make you stop, being his...love slave?', my excessive curiosity made me ask. 'You said you were only with him for two years.'

Lucinda breathed deeply. 'I should have known from the beginning that something was wrong with the whole relationship. He was a history professor at the State College I was attending and quite a bit older than I. The end was what he gave me for my twenty-first birthday... or actually who he gave me to I should say. He lent me, or maybe sold me, to two other masters who were making a whipping film. For four days and nights myself and another young girl were scourged and screwed.'

She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, before continuing. 'They were both true masters. We were constantly in fear of not pleasing them and at the same time kept on the edge of imminent sexual climax. Only when they were truly ready would they allow us to cum.' She looked down at me and explained, 'don't misunderstand Sharon that is what an experienced master does for his slave. It is the wait and the anticipation that makes the final release all the better. But these men weren't our chosen master's and they were more interested in inflicting pain upon the two of us then in any of the sexual gratification that they demanded.' She shuddered. 'These men were truly sadistic. One of them would jerk off on my reddened rump while the other continued to beat me. Then they would switch places and repeat the process.

They did this multiple times to both of us and not just our asses were the targets of their wild whippings.' Her eyes glared into mine. 'My back, my buttocks, my thighs... my chest and yes, even my cunt felt this treatment. To add insult to injury, they even had us blow them to excite themselves enough, because they had come so many times that they couldn't arose themselves through their own efforts.'

Lucinda's gaze softened and she took on that lazy reminiscent attitude once again. 'After two weeks of recovering, I resumed my place as love slave to the professor. Final exams were do during the next few weeks and I was able to reduce my visits to practically nil. As soon as finals were over and grades posted, I packed my car and left. I didn't even return for the graduation ceremony. In fact I never returned.'

She paused thoughtfully. 'I am sure that he found some other young neophyte to serve him, but I couldn't do anything about that. You my dear I can help and if you will let me I will help you.'

I didn't know what to say. All I did know was that bondage; even the agony of being whipped held a certain fascination for me. It excited me beyond any other type of thrill that I had yet experienced in my young life. 'I think I would like that', I replied guardedly. 'But, how will you be able to help me?'

Lucinda laughed. 'You see you are not all submissive. That question is much to straightforward for a true submissive to ask.' She helped me sit up, my crotch was extremely sore, but I could at least sit now. Sliding her hands onto my shoulders and looking softly into my eyes, she said, 'I can be your friend... your sister, if you will. You young lady are going to need a lot of advice as you enter this arena. What limits should you set on how rough your B&D play will be? How do you communicate this to your lover / master? Even such simple things such as what to wear to really set him on fire.' Looking at me with her big ice-blue eyes I could feel a warmth that I had never known existed in them.

'I have plenty of people to share my bed... but, I am running a little low on people that I can call friends. What do you say honey? Do you want big sis to help you out or not?'

It was tough to believe that this was the same woman that had been whipping me so mercilessly just a few minutes before. But now I understood that she was teaching me a needed lesson about the new world that I was entering. It could have been a very dangerous lesson in the hands of the wrong person. I felt a warmth towards her that I had not felt in a long time.

I put my hands onto her shoulders and beamed at her. 'Thank you, Lucinda' I gushed. 'I think we are already friends... but, to be able to share this new world with another woman, that would be wonderful.'

She helped me upstairs and got me out of my sexy costume. Brooking no argument, she had me sit in the large tub while she bathed me. A bottle of white wine and the warm water did wonders to restore me.

I soon found myself asking her every question that I had ever imagined about bondage, both physiological and physical. Her answers were wonderfully reassuring and informative. Lucinda related anecdotes of adventures that I would never, could never have even dreamed up! But, the feelings she spoke of... the overwhelming, almost additive feelings. The desire to please and the need to be pleased all commingled into a steady flow and the promise of a beautiful relationship... with the right person of course.

She helped me dry myself after my bath and kneaded soothing oils into my still aching flesh. Knowingly, the remarkable woman steered clear of my sex and let me attend to that area myself. I was still a little unsure of her 'no strings attached' attitude and this reassured me greatly. After drying myself one more time, I slid into my silk pajamas and our discussion continued.

When I was beginning to nod off she helped me back to my room and put me to bed. 'Do you trust me?' she asked as I lay there.

Tentatively I replied, 'Yes, I think, I do'.

She smiled at my less than enthusiastic response. 'Don't worry I am not going to take advantage of you... despite how delicious that would be. What I am going to do is bind you to your bed.'

I smile back at her and said, 'That's awfully sweet of you... but I don't understand, why?'

Her smile widened. 'Very simply, because I don't want you to cum. You remember it was part of your punishment. Of course, now I have two motivations.' As she spoke she began to bind my ankles to the appropriate posts. I didn't try to stop her, or deny her the right to bind me.

'And what is this second motivation of yours… mistress', I asked. If I was being bound I should use the proper title for Lucinda and also I thought that I would get better results with honey.

'It simple really, my dear', she said softly. 'I intend to make sure that you don't have an orgasm until we find your Mr. Right!'

I looked at her incredulously as she finished tying off my final wrist 'You've got to be kidding' I exploded.

While my mouth was wide open she popped in the ball gag. She laughed as she asked again, 'Do you trust me, dearest?' Taking my time, I slowly nodded my head. 'Good, because I think I know of the perfect person for you. Oh, I could be wrong my dear, but I think he would fit the bill rather nicely.' I pulled at my bonds and tried to squeal questions past the heavy rubber, but my efforts were useless. 'Relax, my dear. You will find out his name and everything about him in due time...but, for now you must be kept in the dark.' With that and another laugh, she slid my satin sleep mask in place.

'Good night, dearest', she called as I heard the light switch click. 'Pleasant dreams', she chuckled as the door was closed.

Taking deep breaths I calmed my racing thoughts and myself down. There was nothing that I could do about anything just at the moment... being bound and gagged spread eagle to a bed does have that effect. Resigning myself to another sexually unfulfilling night, I let the warmth of the comforter surround me and drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 6 - Audition with the Mystery Man

By the White Knight

The next morning Lucinda didn't leave me out of her sight the entire time. We ate and talked, but she brushed aside all of my requests for information about my proposed pairing. At work it was much the same. I attended every meeting that she did and was even taken to lunch with her and the other executives.

Only for a few minutes did she leave my side and that only to hold a quiet conversation at the end of the room with Mr. Stanton. He looked at me covertly a number of times during that brief discussion and ended nodding his head and smiling as he kissed Lucinda on both cheeks. I thought that they must have reached some mutually beneficial business arrangement, based on the way that they were acting.

That night Lucinda and I ate out and then continued our rap session from the night before. She allowed me to do my aerobic workout and even joined me at about ten o'clock. Of course all of my requests for further information on Mr. Right met the same stonewall. I was bound to my bed as was now usual. But tonight I was bold enough to ask for the more comfortable, beanbag gag.

Smiling at my temerity she said, 'You really should practice with the tougher gag... but I suppose that it would be all right.'

My jaw greatly appreciated her indulgence the next morning. In fact by now I was feeling pretty much back to normal. The marks on my body had faded, and now the aches and pains of my last ordeal had passed also. Lucinda watched me as I dressed. Suggesting pieces of my outfit as I went along. What I ended up with was an outfit that I had basically worn a number of times at the office before.

Gray wool pleated mini skirt, black sleeveless form fitting shirt, black hose (using garters and stockings rather than pantyhose) and normal black leather boots. I say normal boots, because Lucinda complained about them. 'The heel should be higher and spiked to really be sexy' she lamented. The heel was only a little over two inches and was blockier for better traction in snow and bad weather. Besides I thought to myself, I am going to work I don't need to be dressed to kill.

The shirt was really sexy, as it left no doubt as to my obvious endowments. The upper portion of the garment, from slightly above the tips of my nipples to my throat, was made of a transparent black material showing off an amazing amount of cleavage. This I covered up with a blazer, which matched my skirt. I was surprised that she had not complained about this, as it was she who had suggested this particular shirt. The cut of the blazer showed only an innocent V of white chest. She refused to allow me to wear the satin bra that I would normally wear with the matching garter belt, but was kind enough to let me put on the matching panties.

Lucinda had me model my outfit for her, so she could 'see all of the lines'. When I was getting tired of doing this I finally asked, 'what's going on here? What's so important about the way that I dress when were going to the office.'

Lucinda pooh-poohed me and said in a sisterly fashion, 'I told you that I would be giving you advice. Well, we are starting with wardrobe suggestions. In my estimation it's always a good idea to, within reason, advertise your wares.' Knowing her wardrobe, I believed what she was telling me. Without a doubt some of her outfits made her look twice as beautiful as her basic attributes.

At work that day, things were the same as the previous day. Meetings, breakout discussions and more meetings were the daily fare. During the meetings that Mr. Stanton attended I felt him looking at me a number of times. The few times that I meet his gaze, he would just smile and give a slight nod of his head towards me.

Later that afternoon with everything basically concluded Mr. Stanton led us on a tour of the plant. 'This is the models room', he said as he opened a door and turned on the light. The room was filled with four vanities and cubicle-like changing stations. 'Through that door is where we do most of our shoots.' We walked on and entered the room. It was dark except for one spotlight that was centered on a stool in front of a trio of reflective white screens.

'My dear', Mr. Stanton began. 'Lucinda and I have been discussing your situation and I think its time that we all had a little chat.' My face reddened, but before I could say anything he continued, 'I told you that my Thatcher and I would like to be able to help you find someone that could match your, ahhh... exuberance for life and help you in enjoying it to its fullest extent. Lucinda and I, have come up with the same person... separately I would add, that we think may meet with your approval.' My eyes widened at this statement. 'We would like you to meet him, my dear...'

I cut him off before he could finish his sentence. 'I would love to meet him', I stammered. 'Just tell me where... and when....' This time I was cut off.

'How about here and now', a voice said from the darkness at the back of the room. I shaded my eyes and peered into the gloom. I couldn't make out anything because of the glare of the spotlight. I started to walk forward and the voice chuckled, 'No, no, no, my dear. Do not step forward. If I am to be your master, I must first 'approve of you'. Upon completion of that condition, we will have our first... meeting. If you enjoy that encounter you can than 'approve of me', if you don't well than you can tell me to go to... to get lost.'

'I'm not sure that I like this arrangement' I said getting my back up. He chuckled again, 'I wouldn't like it either. But my two friends here have tried to set me up before and to say that each of their previous attempts was a disaster would be putting it kindly.' Mr. Stanton and Lucinda looked uncomfortably at each other and refused to meet my gaze. 'Both of them say that you're special. In fact the gentleman has stated that you're my perfect counter-part and the lady has referred to you as my 'soul-mate'. Hefty praise coming from these two, my dear, but we will have to see.' He paused. I waited for him to continue. Looking into the darkness all I could tell about him was that he had a nice warm voice.

'The question, my dear is do you trust these two?' He asked. I looked at them and they now met my gaze. Lucinda even nodded her head.

'Yes', I answered. 'I trust them'.

He chuckled once more. 'Boy you are young and naive, aren't you?' He said off-handily.

I glared into the darkness and responded sharply, 'Perhaps I am. But, I can tell you right now your not wining any points with me by degrading me or my friends.' The son-of-a-bitch had the audacity to clap at my angry statements. He stopped quickly as he saw my face redden and I was just about to let him have it again.

'No, no. Don't be angry. Truly, I applaud you.' He paused. 'I apologize but that was part of my testing process.' My questioning looks probably made more sense than any questions that I could have formed at the moment. 'You passed admirably, by the way. A woman with no spirit, regardless of how wonderful she is at... in the sack, is basically useless, as far as I am concerned.' By this point I was as confused as I could get, or so I thought.

'The second part of my testing may be even more repugnant to you than the first part', he said in his warm deep voice. 'Now I would like to see how well you respond to a master. So I'll ask, you again, do you trust Lucinda and Arch?'

Silence followed. Lucinda nodded again, but I could see that something had bothered Mr. Stanton. 'Yes', I answered simply.

'Good, then by proxy, you must also trust me', he informed. 'You see now I will ask you to do certain things and I wish to see how you respond to them. Is this agreeable to you?' He had a good voice; I'll say that much for him. Different than Mr. Thatcher's, it generated that same type of concern and oneness that made you feel good... like you really mattered.

'I don't understand' I answered. 'Why can't we just sit down and talk and find out if we fit together or not?'

'Blame it on your friends. Unfortunately for you, the earlier blind dates these two have tried to foist off on me have been less then wonderful. One young lady, whom good 'ol Arch set me up with, stalked me for three months when I told her it wasn't going to work out.' He explained with that rye chuckle of his. Mr. Stanton looked madder about what the stranger was saying, than upset by his mistake. I wondered why, but I was more concerned with what he was telling me.

'Time is a wasting, Sharon. Are you willing to take my orders, or not?'

'Answer me two questions', I responded. 'And then I will agree. First, when do I get to grade your performance and second, what is your first name'.

More of his warm laugh greeted my ears. 'Boy, oh boy you do have a lot of spirit. I think that I am beginning to like you already.' He said this so warmly... as if he had known me all my life... that it gave me shivers up my back. 'OK', he answered. 'That's reasonable. First, you are obviously a smart lady, so I have no doubts that you are already 'measuring my performance'. Second. My name is Gregory. Greg to my friends... but, for now, you can call me Master.'

I smiled in the direction of his voice and really hammed it up. 'What wish or desire can I fulfill for you first, Master', I said huskily. Silence followed and my smile faded.

'Is that the tone of voice that you would normally address your master in or is that the tone of voice that you think that I would like to be addressed in?'

Damn, playing games with him didn't seem like such a smart thing at the moment. All I could do was tell him the truth. 'It's the tone I would use if you had had a hard day and I was trying to make you feel better. To play with you.'

He was quiet for a few seconds. 'Fair enough', he finally responded. But for the time being lets just kept it simple and straightforward. Yes, master or No, master will suffice.' 'Yes, master', I replied softly. I thought I saw a little bit of movement in the darkness, but I wasn't sure.

'Remove your jacket'. As I undid the buttons, Lucinda moved behind me to take the coat as it became free. 'Turn to your left, so that I can see your profile'. I did so and stood still, my chest jutting proudly forward. 'Turn back toward me and knell, as you would before your master', the voice commanded me. I quickly knelt upon the hard wood floor trying to imitate, what I had seen Sam do on the cover of the video, Bondage 101. Keeping my knees together, I rested my butt on my heels while keeping my back as straight as possible. Unlike Sam though, who looked up adoringly at her master, I looked down demurely at my folded hands, atop my knees. He left me like that for about a minute. 'You may stand now', he ordered. After I had complied he added, 'Place your hands behind your back and help Arch slide the leather sleeve he is holding over your arms.' I looked behind me. Mr. Stanton was holding a narrow black leather funnel like item. I had only seen them in the catalog and didn't know what to do. Lucinda's soft voice whispered instructions, which allowed me to slid into the partially opened sleeve. My arms went in until they were almost shoulder deep. Mr. Stanton then pushed my arms towards each other above my leather-covered elbows, while Lucinda zippered the leather triangle tightly shut. My arms were pulled tighter and tighter together, just like Mr. Thatcher's hog-tie. I grimaced as the zipper reached the top of the sleeve, but otherwise I accepted my incarceration quietly.

Straps from the arm binder were taken from under my arms, criss-crossed below my throat, passed over each shoulder and buckled in the rear. Ostensibly they were there so that I couldn't shrug my way out of the tight leather binding my arms.

'Spread your legs', the deep voice commanded. Lucinda was already kneeling besides my leg attaching a leather restraint around my left ankle. Mr. Stanton joined in, attaching a matching cuff to my right ankle. He then used a small metal spreader bar to separate my ankles by a little over a foot.

The sensation of being made helpless in front of an unknown stranger was beginning to warm my loins. I shifted my arms within the sleeve as much as I could and waggled my leather-sheathed hands back and forth. I ate up the sensation of the soft leather against my skin and the immobility of my booted feet. I was totally at the mercy of these three people. Two of which, despite the trails they had put me through, I now considered friends.

There is something about the sharing of this intimate sexual sensations that help bind me to each of them. My breathing had become more shallow and quicker. Looking down as the last small pad lock was attached to the spreader bar, I saw something that made me blush brightly. My nipples had hardened as my excitement increased and were now pushing out through the thin black fabric like miniature missiles. I prayed that he wouldn't notice.

Next Mr. Stanton placed a blindfold apparatus in front of my eyes. He gave me a few seconds to look at it, but soon buckled it in place. The stranger was taking no chances. Sometimes the satin sleep masks would shift and need to be reset into the proper position. This item was made of leather, with foam padding around the eyes. The black leather was cut so that it resembled large wrap around aviator glasses. With it installed tightly about my head, I had little doubt that there would be no chance of me seeing anything my principles did not want me to see.

I heard someone walk onto the hard wood floor. I wanted to tilt my head toward the sound, but I remained standing bound with my head straightforward. I felt him walk around me, looking me over... examining me. It was like being a slave at auction... and somehow this thrilled me.

'Ohhhhhh', I jumped in surprise as he flicked one fingertip against my traitorous nipple. He then cupped both of my breasts with large strong hands and gently kneaded them. 'Hhhhhmmmmm', I moaned letting my head fall backwards in ecstasy. All too soon his hands left my breasts and caressed their ways down my sides. Inwards at my taut waist and back out again over my wool clad hips. His hand slid further back to my rear end, where he smoothly and gently let his fingers massage my 'starved for attention' cheeks. 'Yeesssssss', I hissed in delight. He pulled me forward so that his crotch could rub against mine and for the first time I could feel that he was as excited as I. One of his hands left my buttocks and slid down below my skirt. I gasped as his fingers expertly came in contact with my damp panties. Gently he caressed me through the soft silky fabric. I could feel his fingertips softly pushing down my curly hair until he just barely touched my mound. 'Ohhhh, Goddddd', I groaned. He could have thrown me down on the hard wood and taken me right in front of Lucinda and Mr. Stanton and I wouldn't have cared!

'Haaarrrrmmpphhh', Mr. Stanton cleared his throat. 'I think that if you two want to explore this part of a relationship any further, that you should get a room!' He paused, then added, 'Have you any other questions that you wish to ask the young lady or are you done with her for now... sir?' In my hazed sexual stupor, I barely realized that he had spoken. The stranger though reacted as if an order had been given and he pulled himself, all too quickly, away from me.

I could hear him also breathing heavily and he seemed to take a few minutes before he continued his questioning. 'You are certainly a beauty' he said making me blush. 'You seem like a very normal young lady... and I can't remember seeing a woman generate more heat than you.' I am sure that my cheeks were cherry red. 'It would seem to me that I would be a fool, not to pursue this relationship...' He paused. 'I have but one more question....'

'Do you really want to be a slave?' he asked gently. I wanted to just say yes, to his warm sexy voice, but instead I replied softly, 'I've thought about that a lot lately and what I truly want is to be a male master's submissive female partner'. I emphasized the word partner.

'Ms. Grant, Mr. Stanton', he called. 'Are you both in agreement that Sharon and I should attempt this partnership?' I waited expectantly, but heard no sound. 'Don't worry', his warm voice told me, 'There both nodding, yes'.

Mr. Stanton cleared his throat again and said, 'Yes, I am all for it as long as you take your pairing out from under my roof.'

Lucinda laughed. 'That's an excellent idea. Sharon, why don't you and your mystery man here use the cottage for the evening? Mr. Stanton has graciously offered me the use of one of his guest rooms for the night. Is that acceptable to the both of you?'

Before I could say YES! the stranger was already talking. 'I am agreeable', he said strongly. 'But, you dear Sharon, must also agree to my conditions.' He paused. I tilted my head towards the sound of his voice and hung on his every word. 'I have been told that you have a self-bondage routine that you impose upon yourself. Is this true?' he asked.

I felt myself blush further as I nodded my head and answered, 'Yes, master'.

He paced for a second in front of me. 'During this game of yours I understand that once you have bound and gagged yourself, you fantasize that your imaginary lover comes to you. Is this true?'

I felt my face burn redder. I hung my head and said miserably, 'Yes, master'.

He paced for a few seconds again, and then stopped. 'Do you trust me... really trust me', he asked.

I looked blindly in the direction of his voice and replied equally softly, 'Yes...yes, I think that I do.'

He chuckled at my reply and did a fair to middling Bogart impression, saying, 'My dear I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.' He laughed and I laughed with him. 'I want you to go back to the cottage and set yourself up for your fantasy lover. If we are both lucky I will be able to fit the bill. If not, at the very least, I guarantee you an interesting evening. What do you say my perhaps soon-to-be submissive partner?'

Smiling I replied quickly, 'Just tell me what time, oh master'.

He laughed and walked away from me. From a distance he called, 'Seven-thirty, my dear girl. Seven-thirty.'

I blinked my eyes as the blindfold was removed. Soon I was free of all restraints. Both Lucinda and Mr. Stanton refused to answer any of my questions about the mysterious stranger. Finally Mr. Stanton rewarded my persistence with this nebulous response. 'I think this way will be the best for everyone concerned.'

I bridled at such an answer and countered it by requesting, 'At least tell me if I was wearing the blindfold because he is hideous looking, or something terrible like that.'

Lucinda snorted at my comment. 'Sharon, you should know that we wouldn't pair such a cute creature as yourself with anything so cruel', she admonished me.

Then she put her arm around an uncomfortable looking Mr. Stanton and said, 'No, she doesn't have to worry about that at all, does she... Arch'.

Mr. Stanton cleared his throat and said, 'Aahhhh, no, of course not'.

'It is five o'clock now, my dear', Lucinda remarked. 'Why don't you take off and prepare for you big evening.' I blushed once again; because she knew exactly what preparations I intended to take. Then she did something that really surprised me. She reached over and pulled me towards her, giving me a hug. 'Good luck', she whispered in my ear. 'Oh, and one last bit of advice. Don't put on the 'stimulator'... I don't think you will be in need of it tonight!'

I blushed redder, hugged her back quickly and ran for the door. The drive to the cottage seamed to take forever. Once inside I found myself running around from one place to another like a spinning top. The excitement was almost too much to bear. I was breathing so hard that I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. My stomach was in knots. I had to do something to calm down. Running through my normal evening routine was the only thing that I could think of.

I quickly stripped off my 'slave auction' clothes, as I had come to think of them. Putting on my spandex workout suit I went through three quarters of an hour of my normal aerobic exercises. I followed this with a steaming shower and soon felt better. Looking at the clock I could see that it was already six-thirty. My breathing quickened immediately and the knots in my stomach returned. The thought that I was finally going to meet my 'imaginary lover' was making me feel faint. My heart pounded so hard that I thought I would have a heart attack.

Trotting naked into the kitchen I poured myself a good portion of white wine, and took a healthy swallow. I walked carefully back into my bedroom, making sure not to spill any of the wine on Mr. Thatcher's carpets. At Lucinda's behest I had cleaned up everything in the morning. I pulled off the quilt bedspread and folded it neatly into the corner. Then I attached the nylon restraints to each of the four posts of the bed. I laid the gag and sleep mask down on the soft flannel sheets.

Quarter to seven, my heart pounded. I took another large swallow of wine. I did not want to get drunk or even tipsy, but I knew that wine mellowed me out. Already I could feel its warm glow spreading through me. My breathing slowed a little and the knots in my stomach receded some. I laid out my sexy bustier outfit on top of the dresser, everything from hose to frilly gloves. Then I re-applied my makeup. Brushing out my auburn hair I let it fall loosely about my shoulders.

I slipped into the baby blue bustier. After the red corset it no longer seemed to fit into the 'tight' category, now I thought of it more as form fitting. The touch of the silky crotch less panties sliding up my thighs was heavenly. I bit my lip to keep my hands away form my flaming love orifice. My hard nipples showed clearly through the transparent material. Another swallow of wine and then I unrolled the powder blue stockings unto my shapely gams. Their attendant garters were fastened into place. I flexed my toes and slid into my soft yummy black leather slippers. The frilly gloves went on last.

I walked over to the mirror on the back of the bedroom door and checked my outfit. Smoothing a little here and tugging a little there, minor changes a most. Satisfied I finished my wine and took the glass into the bathroom. I rinsed it out and set it besides the sink. Not wanting to smell of the sweet grape, I brushed my teeth and gargled with some Scope. Snapping my fingers I ran back to the dresser and retrieved my White Shoulders from the top draw. I had almost forgotten it! A couple dabs behind my ears, between my breasts and even down near my lately ever-hot furnace. All the places I would love to see him nuzzle!

It was ten after, definitely time to apply my restraints and other accessories. Being well versed now, in the proper procedures I had little trouble connecting my widely spread ankles to their respective posts. I opened my mouth wide and accepted the hard rubber ball. I had thought of using the soft beanbag gag, but had decided against it. My coffee colored lips stretched tautly around the bright yellow ball was a much more sexy sight.

I bound my left wrist into its nylon cuff and then slid the black satin mask over my eyes. I laid my right wrist into the final restraint, but found myself hesitating. If I bound my last wrist correctly, there would be no way out. I would be putting myself totally at the mercy of a man I didn't even know! The dice I had been rolling lately had all been coming up as winners, I thought to myself. Not once had craps been the result of my risk taking.

Starting with my current job that had quickly got my mind off of what his name. Then trying out bondage and finding that I really liked it. And now just over the last few days, each of my successive bondage encounters had turned out wonderfully.... Well, the whipping ended up wonderfully, because I gained a true friend. One more throw of the dice.

I grasped the cuff with my fingers and expertly wrapped it about my wrist. I made no attempt to leave it at all loose and a few pulls against the restraint showed that it was securely fastened. I tested all of my bonds, now. What a terrible thing that would be if after all of my hard work and gut wrenching one of the bindings would fail! Fortunately they were all tightly intact.

There isn't too much that you can do to make yourself look sexier, when you are tied spread eagle upon a bed. But, I did my best. Flattening my back, arching my breasts and pelvis upwards. I straightened my legs and arms as much as possible. Lastly I just lay back and relaxed.

Oh, shit. How is he going to get in! I had locked the door on my way in as I always do. Damn it, I should have thought about that. I'll be lying her all night long waiting for him to come and he'll be locked out! Great, another night of sexual frustration!

Without warning I felt my slipper being lifted off my right foot. Strong hands began to massage my sole and heel areas. 'Hmmmmm', I murmured around the gag. This was heavenly. His hands slid over the soft stocking and took up residence about my toes and toe pad. He flexed my toes and rubbed the pad just at the right places. If it weren't for the gag, I would have bitten my lip to keep myself from crying out in delight. A young lady must appear demure and chaste even in the most intense circumstances. Of course at the moment I was a bound and gagged slave so I yelled without abandon, 'Yesssss... Yesssss... Ohhhhh.... Yeesssss'.

Finishing on my right foot, he chuckled at the sound emitting from my gag as he replaced my leather slipper. I flexed my sated foot sensuously in the soft slipper, loving the feel of the warm leather against my skin. 'Oh, so you like these slippers, do you?' he remarked observantly. I nodded my head and flexed my foot once again. 'Well, then such a pretty covering on such a lovely appendage should be rewarded', he warmly announced as his hands once again took up their ministrations. He pressed the soft leather against my flesh as he kneaded my heel, sole and finally toes.

'Aaarrrrggggghhhh', I groaned delightedly. What he was doing to me was so wonderful, so sensuously sweet, so.... It was almost as good as sex! He moved on to my left foot. As he lifted off the slipper he gave me a little tickle with the tips of his fingers against my captive sole. I jumped a bit surprised and wiggled my foot in its restraint. I began to tense wondering if this was a prelude to some type of tickling session. 'Relax Princess', his warm voice said soothingly as his dexterous fingers worked over my loving left ped.

'I figured you could use a good massage after all you've been through this week. Especially your poor abused feet. After Da.... Arch, told me what he had done with you.' I couldn't see him, but I had the feeling he was shaking his head. 'Those two should have taken it easier on such a neophyte. But, knowing them, once they get into their one up-man ship mode... well you ended up taking the brunt of their ego's.' I listened to the concern in his voice and wanted to both reassure him and clear names of the two gentlemen.

'It wasn't that bad', I mumbled through the thick yellow ball. 'I even liked most of it.' He laughed, and said, 'I'm glad that you feel that way, but what Da… Arch did wasn't even remotely fair. Making you stand in six and a half inch heels with your legs spread so widely, in a pair of pumps that generally run tight, must have been hell.' Damn it, I knew it. Those bloody heels were a half size to small! His wondrous fingers made me forget all about it though as he removed every little kink from my grateful ped.

Replacing the slipper he once again rubbed my foot and if anything it was even better than the first time. Strong hands moved up and around my ankle. Caressing the smooth nylon as they flowed over my restraining cuff. The tips of firm fingers plowed furrows in my skin, up and down the sides of my calf. 'Besides being a delight to look at, your legs are in excellent shape', he commented. 'There is something about a shapely female leg graced by pretty hosiery that is extremely sexy', he continued warmly. With one hand he gently pulled on and let snap back one of the taut garters holding up my stockings. 'These of course are the icing on the cake.' He resumed his massage of my left calf and just when I thought I couldn't stand any more he moved his attentions over to my right leg.

'Ohhhh, Goddddd', I moaned dreamily. All of the anxieties and tenseness that had earlier filled me, dissolved into nothing. Warmth spread through my body. His expert manipulations, the glass of wine and the 'freedom' of being bound helplessly left me more relaxed then I had ever felt before. I didn't have to worry about responding to his caresses, because I could not. Everything was in his hands.... and they were warm, tender and inviting.

'If my hands were free, I would applaud your wondrous legs', he said with that rye chuckle that I was quickly thinking of as his trademark. 'They seem to go on forever and they are.... perfect!'

I stirred languidly from my mellow funk. 'Thank aerobics', I said into my mouth-filling gag. His hands had moved up over my knee and were kneading the fleshy part of my thighs. The muscles were tightly stretched there, because of my widely spread ankles.

'Actually, I prefer to thank you', he remarked non-chalantly. 'Aerobics may be the exercise that made your legs look this good, but you are the one who should be proud of your achievement.' My fogged mind registered something as out of place, but I couldn't quite place it. Then it hit me! He was responding to everything that I was saying. How could this be? Even knowing what I had said, my ears couldn't make sense out of the inconsistent sounds that I was making through the gag. 3

'What are you telepathic', I demanded into the yellow ball.

His laugh resounded in the room, 'Nooo. Of course I'm not telepathic. I am just unusually good at understanding gag-speak.'

What the heck was he talking about? 'What's that', I asked. He stopped his massaging of my right thigh. I could feel his weight shift on the bed between my legs.

'This will never do', he said in a mock angry tone. 'You getting all tense again and over nothing. If you keep this up I am going to have to replace your ball gag with a penis gag, because not even I can understand a women when she has her throat full of rubber cock.' His hands again found my legs, now with one on each thigh. He started running his hard fists up and down my inner thighs, working specifically on the tensed muscles that joined at my crotch.

'Ohhhh, yessss', I murmured as his fingers dug furrows up and over my blue stockings and then upwards across my naked inner thighs. 'Please, Please...' I moaned. I so wanted him to put his hands to work on my love mound.

'That's it just relax, Princess', he said softly. 'And just to ease your mind of all of those questions you were so anxious to ask about, don't worry. Unless something drastic happens, I firmly believe we will have a long night together and I promise there will be plenty of time to ask anything you want.' His hands were dangerously near my love mound now. He had changed his manipulations so that he was now using the tips of his powerful digits and every once and a while they would brush against the lace trim of my baby blue crotch-less panties.

'I must apologize though', he said warmly. 'Because I am the one leading you into trouble.' He paused and I wondered what he was referring to. 'All of my gabbing has of course made you wonder about different things', he continued. 'So now I will make you a promise to remedy the situation', he breathed in a very sexy tone. 'From now on, no more unnecessary words. I promise to let my hands, lips and perhaps just one other part of my anatomy do my talking for me.'

I smiled to myself, as there could be nothing more pleasing to me. True to his word his powerful hands began to work their magic. 'Ohhhh yyyyeessss', I groaned as his attention shifted to my pelvic region. He did not go directly for my love mound, but instead loving massaged all around it. His hands slowed their movements and then softly I felt his first kiss against my inner thigh. Warm juicy kisses rained upon my appreciative upper legs. With his teeth he would pull playfully at the top of a stocking or garter belt whenever they seemed to get between his hungry lips and me.

'Aaaarrrrggghhh', I screamed as I strained against my bonds. The bed creaked as I used all of the strength in my body to free my arms. I had to get free. I had to be able to grab his head and plug into my love canal. I moaned in disgust as the tough nylon and tight cuffs remained secure, despite my best efforts. Breast bondage was not torture. Six inches heels were not torture. Even Lucinda's whipping was not torture. This was torture. Knowing that you will climax, but not when your master will let you reach that peak. 'Oh God help me. Pleaaaasse, get between my legs', I screamed.

Perhaps taking pity on me, he slowly worked his way up to my vagina. His fingers brushed aside the damp fabric of my panties and parted my burning lower lips. A warm skilled tongue darted in and went right to work on that most sensitive little mound of flesh. Back and forth he lashed me. Each stroke driving me further and further into a sexual frenzy. I was a volcano and I was finally going to be allowed to blow!

His tongue maintained its steady brisk strokes, pushing the little piece of flesh between my legs up and down or side to side. Every once in awhile he would divert his attention to suck on one or the other of my lips. At this moment I began to love my gag. For I knew if it weren't in my mouth right nowI would have bitten through my lip.

Never, ever had I experienced anything this wonderful. I started to squirm as my orgasm finally began to rumble to the surface. 'Nooooo.... Nooooo....' I screamed into the gag as he levered himself upright and his tongue left my aching pussy. Pleaaaassseee... Pleeeaaasse, let me cum', I wailed. I felt him getting off the bed and now I was desperate. I again struggled fruitlessly against my restraints. 'Aaannnnnything... annnyyything... I'll do anything you want. Pleeeaasse', I begged shamelessly.

'Now, now dear slave', he said soothingly. 'Only I can decide when it is time for you to achieve orgasm and you need to learn that'. I could feel his tugs and pulls against the restraints at my right ankle and then it was free. The cuff was still on my ankle, but the nylon strap must have been released from the pole. 'Besides', he continued warmly, 'you really didn't want your first orgasm as a slave to be so mundane... did you?' As my left leg was freed I kicked them both up and down on the bed in anger and frustration.

'Mundane', I screamed into my gag. 'You call that mundane?' Now his rye chuckle made me angry.

'Princess, calm down and quit acting like a kid', he said sternly. 'I am not like anyone you have ever known, so you can either trust me or you can take a hike. Which will it be?'

It was like getting hit with a pail of cold water. He was right I was acting like a spoiled brat, wanting to get my way. Here I am playing the submissive and yet I still wasn't willing to give up control. I stopped my kicking and said, 'Sooorrryyy', into my heavy rubber mouth covering.

He patted my leg and continued warmly, 'That's better, because I think you are going to really like this part.' Holding my legs together he lifted them up into the air, from my left side. As he came the point where they were straight up toward the ceiling, he asked me, 'Can you hold you legs like that for a moment.' I nodded my head, yes and I felt him let go. In a couple of seconds I could feel a slight tug against the cuff on my left ankle. I heard him move to the other side of the bed where I felt a similar jerk against my right ankle restraint. I shifted my legs slightly forward and realized that they were now tethered somewhere behind me.

Slowly, my right leg was pulled from its right angle (90 degree) position. Not straight backwards, but rather towards the corner post. 110 degrees, 120 degrees, finally at 130 degrees he stopped. If he was trying to fold me in half, he was succeeding admirably. It was very difficult to keep my left leg straight, with my right pulled back so awkwardly. I didn't have to worry for long as he quickly 'helped' me out. My left leg was the next to be dragged back towards its appropriate post. In fact I think he went even a little further with this leg than he had with the other. Apparently he also thought so.

Moving back to my right leg he adjusted it just a tad tighter, making them even. 'Straighten your legs', he admonished me. My legs had buckled at the knee during this process. I tried to do what he asked, but I met with no success. Laying flat on the bed with my legs spread this widely was taxing. To straighten my legs while in this position seamed impossible!

'Arch your feet like a ballet dancer so your toes point towards the wall and not the mattress.' I did so and found that this did help me to meet my goal, but I wasn't quite there yet. 'Now, slide your butt forward and tilt your pelvis upwards', he instructed me. Sure enough, I felt my knees lose their flex and my legs straighten into position. I was a little startled when I felt my toes touch something. With a little wiggling of each foot I was able to identify the object as the posts to which they were attached!

'Thank you', I said sincerely around my gag. I wouldn't say that I was comfortable, but his helpful advice made sure that it wasn't torturous either.

'I call the position that you are now in the 'back-breaker'', he informed me. 'Being as you now have first hand knowledge of this position, I am sure that you can see the accuracy of the name.' I felt a rope passed under my waist and cinched tightly over my diaphragm. 'Even though you are in good shape, you will not be able to maintain that position for long, so I am working up a little prop to help you out,' He informed me as he slid a rope about my stomach. Twisting the rope he made sure the knot was below the center of my back. The rope trailing from the knot was pulled under my rear end toward the foot of the bed.

'There are two ropes coming from the one wrapped to your waist. What I am doing is tie off each of them to the corner posts at the foot of the bed.' I felt first a tug towards the right and then one back towards the left. The rope over my waist dug tightly into the baby blue nylon mesh covering my diaphragm. The pressure reminded me of my previous experience with my new corset. Everything he said though was true. Regardless of the ropes slight discomfort, the strain on my back arms and legs was largely reduced.

I heard a rustling of material and then felt him 'walk' on his knees up the center of the bed. If someone had painted a bulls-eye directly over my cunt, it could not have been any more the center of attention than I am sure it was now.

My legs formed a big wide "V" right to the heart of my heat. Despite everything else, all I could think of was now he had to let me cum. There is nothing that he could possibly do that could make me more helplessly available to whatever he desired.

He laid a hand on each widely spread leg just above the knee and stroked me slowly downward. Caressingly his hands followed the trail of my powder blue stockings towards my exposed sex. Agonizingly they parted around my mound, like Moses parting the waters. I squeezed my eyes closed beneath my satin mask and stifled a cry of frustration. He kneaded my twin cheeks and casually let his fingers stray towards my burning bush. Finally his digits found there way back to my clit and I felt him part my lips. Please, God let him eat me again, I prayed.

I was justly rewarded as his lips began to kiss my legs from one nylon-sheathed knee to the other. His kisses worked there way downward, slowing at the lace tops of my stockings. He loved playing with my garters and teasing me as he closed upon the area of my body that demanded attention. Next his teeth pulled at my split briefs. I groaned in frustration. It was so difficult learning to be totally submissive to my new master. I wanted to demand for him to service me, but I knew that I could not. He was in complete control and through the agonizing wait I learned the beauty of my position. When his lips finally found my lower lips I almost cried in delight. His experienced tongue once again brought me to the edge of climaxing. I went to scream as he stopped his ministrations, when.... Something heavy was placed against the opening to my love canal. Whaaattt.... my thought was interrupted as I felt his firm thick manhood driven into me.

'Oooooffffffff', I gasped as the air was pushed form my body. I had been hot for so long there was no problem with lubrication and with one swift piercing stroke he had embedded his weapon to the hilt. I had never been probed so far before. I didn't know if this was do to the fact the he was exceptionally long or because of the advantageous position he had bound me into. All these thoughts ran through my head, but all I could think of was... Thank you lord!

He began deep penetrating inward and outward strokes as he gave one of his chuckles, 'You really don't have to call me lord, my dear master will do just fine'. I hadn't realized that I had said it out loud, but right now I couldn't careless.

His hefty member plunged downward and than slowly was drawn backwards until only the head of his cock remained within me. I gasped each time that he buried himself into me. Oh, god it felt sooooo good. His hard rod was touching places within me that had never been touched before. But, it wasn't his length, size or width that was the most outstanding part of his performance.... it was the motion. No it was the way he would slowly bury himself within my love canal and than stop for a second or two. He would somehow cause his ever-hardening member to twist within me and then he would begin his equally slow withdrawal. At the apex of his movements, when only a small portion of him was inside my burning lips, he would perform his little twisting act again. Shivers ran up and down my body when he did this, as he was rubbing right up against that tender little g-spot of mine.

I was burning up with sexual heat and abandon. In fact I found it amazing that I had not cum yet. Those slow beautiful strokes of his didn't force an early explosion, but rather allowed the incredible fire within me to become even hotter. The pressure that was building within me was so intense it was almost painful. At one point I thought that I might even faint. I forced to breathe as deeply as possible through my nose to get enough air to keep me going. Again I thanked my bonds, because I knew that if I wasn't bound in such away that I couldn't move... I would have been humping my pelvis against him until I came. If I had done that or if I had been with another man, especially what his name, and I was this hot I would have come long ago. Then I would never have experienced this excruciating ecstasy.

I could feel it coming closer and closer to the surface. There was a rumbling within me that reminded me of an oil well before it blows. His steady piston like strokes just kept on fueling the fire. Yes, hotter... hotter.... hotter, with each impaling pass. 'Oh, yes.... yeessss ... yeeeessssss!!!. I bit down hard on the firm rubber ball and began to lose conscious thought. 'Oh my God... Oh my God,...Ohhhh mmyyy GOD!', I moaned and finally screamed as the tidal wave crested and swept over me.

The relief and pleasure were so intense that, once again, I almost passed out. Only the fact that Greg began to quicken his strokes, which threw a new stimulation into the mix, kept me going. Oh, yes, it was just so good. The waves of pleasures just continued to roll over me, one after another, after another. At first I strained at my bonds, my whole body tensing to the massive explosions that passed over me. Yet with each successive wave the intense pressure, transformed into warm pleasure.

'Aaaahhhhhhhhh', I finally sighed in contentment as my orgasms waned. Just because I was done, though didn't mean that my master was finished with me. He continued to pump in and out of me. In and out he plunged, as if he could do this forever. With my climax completed I now became more aware of my restrictive position. The rope biting into my stomach and the nylon restraints that held me bent over nearly in half became the prevalent things in my thoughts. My back ached. My arms and especially my legs were strained beyond belief. Maybe he was telepathic.... When I was nearly at the point of feeling extremely uncomfortable, he reached forward between my spread legs and began to fondle my breasts. Over the course of the past few days, they had become very sensitive. His soft gentle movements began to re-kindle the fire within me. Kneading both breasts, he pushed and pulled at the covering material until my nipples were free. Together he twirled both of them between his thumb and forefinger.

'Ohhhhh, yes', I groaned in delight. During this entire time he had continued to pump me with pure pelvic strength. His strokes had reduced in length, but had picked up quite a bit of speed. In fact he was now pounding into me like a trip-hammer.

Unbelievably, his wondrous actions were actually bringing me back to the point of climax. Higher and higher I climbed.... Ooooowwww', I cried into my gag. Both of his powerful hands had pinched the tips of my defenseless nipples, simultaneously. The pain / pleasure response flew down into my cunny like a bolt of lightening.

`Oh, God, yeessss', I groaned about my gag. A new and incredible orgasm, washed through me. Within seconds I heard him grunting and his breathing become heavy. He plunged his tensing cock to the hilt as he exploded into me. The force of his cum was so heavy and so strong that I could actually feel it striking my soft inner walls. He soon joined me in cries of ecstasy.

'Oh, yeah', he cried out, 'Squeeze me tight and drain me of every last drop girl... Wwwwoooooeeeee'. Doing my best in my awkward position, I used my pelvic muscles to clamp down on his pulsating rod as hard as I could. 'Oh, yeah', he cried out again, 'that's great... just keep that up for just a little while more.' He continued to pump more and more of his hot creamy fluids into me.

Finally, he gave one of his rye chuckles and seemed to be finished. He went to pull out of me, but stopped as he felt my pelvic muscles clamp on him even tighter then before. 'No yet', I cried into my gag. 'Don't leave me, yet. Hold me.... please master.' He didn't try to pull out and soon I felt him gently caressing the insides of my legs. Not in a sexy fashion, but more in a gentle and caring way.

'I can't think of a good way to hold you in this position, Princess', he said to me gently. 'When you're free though I promise that you can have all of the cuddingly you can take. In fact, I should warn you I am a world class cuddlier.'

He laughed and I laughed into my gag. I let him loose and basked in that warm after sex feeling, while he undid my bindings. The rope went first. Then my ankles were released from their cuffs and my legs were again allowed to lie on the bed. My gag was removed next. As I worked my jaw, the restraints were removed from my wrists. However he purposely did not remove the black satin mask.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 7 - Mystery Man Revealed

By the White Knight

'OK, Princess', he said warmly. 'You can take off the blindfold and find out who your mystery lover really is.'

Blinking my eyes as I adjusted to the brightness of the room's lights, I focused on my not-so imaginary lover. Dark hair, blue eyes, warm smile, large frame and a good build... 'Jeeezzzz, you look awfully familiar... don't I know you from somewhere', I asked him.

He showed more nice white teeth and replied, 'Try from someone, Princess'.

'From someone...' I repeated mystified. Then I thought back to when he was talking to me earlier. Each time he would talk about Mr. Stanton, he started saying, 'D' or 'Da' something. I smiled at him. His build and rugged face of course! 'Your Arch Stanton's son. I can't believe it he set me up with his own son!' My face turned serious as another thought popped into my head, 'But, how can you be his son. Lucinda told me he married late in life and was married to a woman fifteen years younger them him?'

'Lucinda was talking about Cassy', he replied with a smile. 'She's my step-mom. My mom died in a car accident when I was twelve.' His smile faded as he spoke.

'Oh, God', I said as I reached out and took his hands in mine. 'I'm so sorry for you.'

His face brightened as he said, 'It's all right Princess. They say time heals all wounds and I have found that to be generally true. The only remorse that I have now is that she won't be there to see her grand children born, but enough of that depressing stuff. You had a thousand questions to ask me when you were gagged and I doubt the number has decreased, so why don't you get them off your chest.'

At the mention of my chest, I realized that I was half out of my bustier top. With a grin I said 'Not that I have to worry about modesty with you, but it will make me feel better'. I said as I stuffed my breasts back into their tight cups. Looking back up at him I asked quizzically, 'Why do you keep calling me Princess?'

He shrugged. 'Lucinda and dad told me quite a lot about you. Good background, well-to-do parents, etc. So there was only two ways that I think about you, either as 'RB' for rich bitch or 'Princess''. He probably saw the storm building on my face, because he quickly continued, 'don't get mad, Sharon, I think of my self in the same way.' He chuckled although in my case it would be rich bastard. Of course neither of us was born out of wedlock, or from another woman outside of our parents' marriages so the terms don't technically fit. Also I am not a fan of vulgarity, so I have thought of you as 'Princess' for the last few days. I came to like the way it sounded in my head and then when I met you earlier today... Well, it just seemed to fit.'

How could I get angry at an explanation like that I wondered as I shook my head in agreement. 'All right I give', I said. Princess, is OK with me. But, what does that make you... the prince?'

He also shook his head and looked thoughtful, 'I never thought about it in terms of myself'.

I snapped my fingers and said, 'My Lord!'

He looked at me and said, 'What?' I continued quickly, 'When we were making love earlier you said that I didn't have to call you lord, that I should just call you master. Well, if we decide to continue this relationship and you insist on calling me Princess all of the time, I want to be able to refer to you as my lord when were playing. You know as in my lord and master.'

He laughed and looked me hard in the face. 'You are a breath of fresh air', he said in a serious tone. I started to expound on that thought, but he cut me off, 'Do you mind telling me whatever you were going to say a little later', he asked. His hands had softly come up and cupped my face then slid further behind the back of my head. 'There is something I would really like to do first....' he breathed softly as our lips met. Like his lovemaking our kiss started slow and soft and then turned quickly to passionate and sensual. He finally broke the warm embrace, saying, 'I've wanted to do that since this afternoon. Then, just now while you were talking, I found that I couldn't kept my eyes off your lips.' It was my turn to smile and laugh. 'Hey, no worries, I'm very glad you couldn't help yourself.' I turned on a serious yet soft look and added, 'But I really feel like you have me at a disadvantage....' I giggled. 'Even out of my restraints, because you know quite a lot about me, but besides your being a great lover I don't I hardly know anything about you.'

He got up off the bed and held out his hand to me. 'Come with me, Princess.' I took his hand and I let him help me off the bed. He led me to another room off of the family room, where I had started my bondage experiences. Candles flickered around the lip of a large whirlpool tub. A bottle of champagne sat in a silver bucket of ice, complete with two fluted crystal glasses.

'It's beautiful' I gasped in delight. 'But, why do I get the feeling that I am not the first woman who has ever received this kind of treatment from you?'

'On the contrary, Princess', he said softly as he gazed into my eyes. 'You're the first one that's ever made it this far. I'm sorry if that sounds a bit ominous, but it is the truth.' He picked up both of my hands and held them in his own. 'What I going to tell you next is probably the most important thing I am going to tell you tonight. This is very important to me and if you don't agree with what I am about to say, we might as well just call it a night.' I didn't dare breathe; all I could do was wait for him to tell me whatever was so horrible a secret that it made him this serious.

He eyes locked onto mine as he started his tale. 'I am twenty-seven years old. About two years ago I realized that I was sick of the singles scene. I began to hate the bars and the women in them, because they all seemed to be the same. One night with your latest lover, a weekend perhaps... maybe even a full week and then they and you were off to find some other conquest. The whole thing left me feeling empty. It got to the point that I would rather stay home alone in my apartment then have to deal with another empty encounter. Don't get me wrong, my John Thomas ruled me as much as any other man, so I didn't sequester myself entirely, I just realized that I wanted more. It didn't take me to long to figure out that what I was looking for was what my mom and now my step-mom had with my dad. A real relationship with someone I could care about and who would care about me.'

He paused shuffling his feet and looked down at the floor. I cupped my hand about his right cheek, this startled him, but he did not pull away. 'Are you trying to tell me that you want to get married?' I asked him softly. He nodded his head, yes. 'I don't understand the problem. Why are you so afraid to tell me this?'

Looking up at me he said with a very serious look on his face 'Let me put it more directly. If you're not looking for a possible long term relationship.... you know, marriage, commitments, even kids down the road a ways... then tell me now so we don't both end up wasting our time.'

'You've got to be kidding' I laughed. His face-hardened and he looked deadly serious. 'Greg, what you're describing is what I think of as every girls dream', I said gently. 'Personally, that's pretty much what I am looking for... just not with my parents as an example. I want to find my other half, my partner for life... someone who will excite me and whom I will be able to do the same for. So you don't have to worry, I really think we are on the same wave length.' His face softened and he nodded his head in agreement. 'I would love to know the kind of women you must have been running into though, that would make you shy about mentioning the word marriage?' I said this with a laugh and really didn't expect an answer... at least not at the moment.

With a smile, he said, 'Later. Why don't we get in the hot tub and get comfortable. I have a feeling that were not going to be going to bed for a while.'

We never did make it back to bed the night. In the pool we talked and laughed and shared our histories with one another. He was correct his background was a lot like my own. Mr. Stanton had attended Yale University and was determined that Greg do the same. But, Greg didn't want to have anything to do with it. His attitude was I love you dad, but I have to go my own way. 'I ended up going to UCLA', he told me. 'Mainly because it put some distance between my loving family and me. I guess I just wanted to be my own man and when my mom and dad were around they insisted on doing everything they could for me.' Not knowing what Greg wanted to be after graduation he just fell into taking a mainly business oriented curriculum. UCLA had a great film program and he needed to fill up some electives so he tried his hand at it. He ended by majoring in business and taking a minor in filmmaking.

In his junior year he did a summer internship at a large accounting firm. It was OK, but in his senior year he did a stint with a small film company during his summer months. It did not take him long to realize that this was something that he really would love to do. After school though he found out there were thousands of other young people struggling along the same path and the jobs available were few and far between. He worked for free, for a few months with one company. Then he decided to take the road less traveled, as he put it, when an out of the way opportunity presented itself. 'I went to work for Harmony Communications, which is a company that produces bondage magazines and videos. It wasn't too hard to one up my competition when I told them what my father produced and that I had been involved with bondage in one form or another since I was thirteen.'

He saw my shocked expression and decided that that last statement needed more of an explanation. 'Hold on Princess', he said soothingly. 'I didn't say I participated in it, at least not then, I said I was involved in it.'

I wasn't sure what he was saying, but all I could think was, 'Wasn't that about when your mother died.' I blurted this out and then wished I hadn't.

He looked sad, and answered, 'Yes, just about the same time. That's when Cassy came into the picture.' He paused to get his thoughts together.

'You're step-mom', I prompted him. He shook his head and continued, 'at the time, I only thought of her as 'that bimbo'. My mom died in a car accident and dad, well he nearly broke down. He put a good face on for me, but soon he couldn't hide the fact that he was hitting the bottle pretty hard.'

`He stopped playing hoops with me, showing up at school events... everything was just going into the toilet. Then one day he came home drunk, with an arm around Cassy for support. They went into his and moms bedroom and closed the door. I listened outside the door for awhile and heard something that I hadn't heard for along time... I heard my father laugh. I was mad at my father for being with this woman, but on the other hand I hoped that maybe this would break him out of his downward spiral.'

'Oh, she stopped his slide, but she also didn't leave. The next thing I knew she was moving in.' He paused shaking his head. 'Oh God, how I hated her back then. This beautiful young girl, about your age at the time, was all of a sudden replacing my mom. Despite her many attempts to reassure me by telling me that she wasn't trying to take the place of my mother, I still hated her. Money chasing bimbo was all I could think.'

'Reluctantly, I had to give her credit. My father quit drinking excessively and once again began to get involved in my life and help me through my own grief. At first, I tried to push him away because of Cassy. But, I needed him as much as he needed me. He didn't try to justify Cassy, just simply stated that he needed her. I hated her even more.' He sighed. 'That changed very quickly, though, in a way I would never have thought of.'

On my way to school one morning, I passed by my father's bedroom door and heard sobbing. I had earlier heard the car pull out of the driveway, so I was sure my Dad had let for work. What then was going on? I opened the door expecting to tell the silly bimbo to shut up, but my jaw dropped open and no words would come out.

Cassy was kneeling in the corner of the room, bound by her wrists to a heavy marble stand. The type you put an expensive Chinese vase on. The vase had been removed and in its place was to a large iron ring that her leather cuffed wrists were bound to. Her back and buttocks were a mess of pink and red weal's. The offending instrument lay on the floor besides her. I picked up the bladed whip and stared at it incredulously. Only her sobbing brought me back to reality. As I released her, she nearly fell into my arms. I removed her gag, then held her and rocked her gently. I didn't know what to do... I didn't know what to say...

What I did know was that I was angrier than I could imagine with my father. How could he have done this to her.... even if she was a bimbo, no one deserved this. My heart hardened and I resolved to have it out with the bastard. I must have been muttering words of that nature, because Cassy all of a sudden stiffened. She pushed herself away form me and said, 'you won't do anything of the sort Gregory. Your dad needed to do this and I was the one that goaded him into doing it', she told me in a determined voice. 'Do you know that your father blames himself for your mother's death', she asked me. I shook my head no. 'He does. Your mom died on a Sunday morning going to get bagels and the newspapers. Your dad would normally do this every Sunday morning, but the night before at a party he had gotten pretty drunk so your mom let him sleep in. You see he felt that if he hadn't gotten so plastered the night before, it would have been him that was driving the car and not your mom', she softened her voice as tears formed in my eyes.

'Your father is a good man. I idolized him when I first came to work for his company. He was a strong, caring man who's presence seemed to make everyone about him feel like family. He didn't deserve what happened to your mom and it certainly wasn't his fault.' She paused and looked at me. 'He had to exorcise his demons and I convinced him to use me to do it.' She shook her head. 'I may not look it, but I am part Chinese. My great grand mother taught me many things and somehow I know this is what your father needed. I also know that I was the one that was graced to be able to give him that gift. So please, don't hate him. If I'm right, he will have gotten over his own self-hatred and be able to once again enjoy life. Please Greg, don't do anything rash. I really do love your father and if he loses you I am not sure what he'll do.'

I stared at her totally confused, but finally I agreed to her suggestion. In the days that followed I saw that what she said was true. My father was just like his old self and there weren't any repeats of the terrible beating. 'We've been close, ever since', he said. He gave me a sly grin, 'Of course that's how I learned all about bondage. She explained to me about her and my father's passion for bondage and hinted at the positive effects that it would have for a dominant male. One day I walked into their bedroom, looking for some money and found Cassy bound to the bed. Dad was gone for the day and I needed the money, so I shrugged my shoulders, removed her gag and asked her if I could borrow ten dollars. 'Of course you can Greg', she said as if she were sitting in a living room chair and not lying bound to her bed in sexy lingerie. I got the money and turned to leave... 'Ah, Greg', Cassy called. 'You need to put the gag back in, otherwise your father will know that you were here.'

I looked at the large ball gag and said in my best thirteen year old macho voice, 'That doesn't look all that comfortable....' She assured me that she could handle it. 'Well, I was thinking that maybe I could come back after school... you know before Pop gets home and put it back in for you?' She smiled at me and a tear formed in the corner of her eye, 'that would be very thoughtful of you dear. Thank you.' I couldn't handle all of the emotions I felt at the time, so I simply fled the room.

Cassy and I became friends and allies from then on. If she wasn't up and around when Dad had left for the day I would go and check on her. Her eyes would brighten when she saw me. I would remove her gag or sometimes, at her request take her entirely out of her predicament. Later that day of course I would have to put her back the way that I found her. One day I couldn't find her at all and I didn't learn till the next day that she had been bound in the 'dungeon'.

She showed me the locked room in the basement that was used for their more ambitious escapades. Swearing me to secrecy she handed me a copy of the key to the room. Obviously, this taught me quite a lot about bondage at a very early age. 'Do you get the picture now, Princess', he asked as he finished his story.

'Oh, yes', I smiled at him devilishly. 'But I just have one question. Are you going to build a dungeon in our home? Hmmmmmm?'

He returned my smile and put his arm over my shoulder as he slid closer. 'Would you like me to put a dungeon in our home? Hmmmm?', he asked me.

'Of course', I said, 'If it would make my Lord and Master happy.' We continued to talk, drink and eat cheese and crackers. Before we turned into fish, we decided it was time to get out. Looking at the clock we saw that it was nearly four in the morning. As we dried off, Greg told me, 'Look I am having a great time and I would really like it to continue. What do you say we forget about sleep?'

His warm voice and smile left me no choice. 'And just what did you have in mind to do with poor little 'ol me', I asked with a smile and sassy attitude.

He laughed, 'Not what your thinking, Princess.' He must have seen the disappointment on my face. 'Hey, Sharon', he said seriously. It not that I don't find you sexy, or want to make love again, it just that talking with you is wonderful. I was thinking we could go out to an all night dinner I know and grab a bite to eat.'

My smile returned. 'Do you jog?' he asked me. I looked at him quizzically and shook my head, yes. 'Good because if we're going to eat diner food we really should do something to work it off. Besides it's only about two miles away. So we jogged to the dinner. I hadn't been running for a while, but he never pushed the pace so it was an easy time.

It is funny how good company can make even greasy spoon food taste great. We talked about our hopes for the future, including things that people don't normally talk about on first dates.... like kids and God. We both agreed that we wanted to have children, not for a few years but it was definitely in the plan. That discussion led us to God. Greg opened the discussion by saying, 'you used God's name quite a bit, tonight. Thanking him, calling on him, etc. You do believe in him don't you?'

I blushed and looked down at the table. 'Yes', I responded. 'But, I sort of was getting away from it lately. I mean.... well my sexual desires and God.... well, they just seem to... conflict. Don't you have a problem with the two?'

He took my hand and answered, 'No, I don't have a problem with the two and I don't think you should either. Look the way I see it God just wants us to find our mate, have children and raise them with a good sense of right and wrong. I can't see Him getting upset about what happens between a man and a woman that are consenting and working towards His main goals.' He smiled. 'Besides, God wanted us to 'procreate'... and if this keeps our love lives exciting and alive, so that we have a few nippers.... well there you go.' I looked up and brightened. I wasn't totally convinced, but it certainly did bear some further thought.

'OK, so you believe in God. How about pre-destination?' He asked. I shook my head showing that I didn't understand the question. Greg explained, 'That means that though you have free choice, God knows before hand what choices you are going to make and therefore knows what your destiny is.' He looked at me and took both of my hands. 'You and I may be pre-destined to be joined. It may be written up there on some big chalk board, Sharon and Greg will be as one.' He paused. 'Look, my father only recently talked me into coming back east. He's always wanted me to work for him, but I still would rather make it on my own. So if you had been here two weeks earlier or two weeks later, we probably would have never met.'

'I get it', I said. 'Maybe we are meant for each other. I've never had a first date like this one... and I'm not even referring to the sex. I mean that I have never talked liked this to anyone before. It's like I have known you all my life,' I stopped for a minute and then asked, 'what you said about missing me if I weren't here in two weeks concerns me. Are you going somewhere?'

'Not anymore', he smiled. 'At least not until you and I figure out if we truly fit together. You might say that you have become the linchpin in my father's plans to keep me in the area.'

Returning his smile, 'And how exactly did I do that?'

'My father is determined to see me come and work with him at his company. I love dad, but I really don't want to do that. You see I want to earn the rights to manage the company on my own, not be handed it from my father. Despite what he thinks, I may never decide to take the helm of the company if I don't feel that I could do as good a job as my father at running it. I have told my father all of this and his answer to that was for me to go to work for Leather & Lace,' he explained.

I couldn't help but blurt out 'You've got to be kidding.... we are going to work together?'

He smiled his most engaging smile and replied, 'Actually, I will be one of your bosses. They want to bring me on as a junior partner.' He paused and reached out to take my hands in his. Quietly he said, 'I would have refused that offer as well ...except for you.'

Now the light began to dawn. 'This is wonderful', I beamed. 'But, I don't understand why you would turn down the chance to work at Leather & Lace?'

'I know Mr. Thatcher and all of the partners very well. They are great people and I know their not going to give me a job, just to give me a job. So I will, rightfully so, be expected to earn my keep. The job they want me to do is basically understudy all three of them so that I can get a feel for the entire company. Truthfully, it is a great opportunity.... but I am just not sure that I am cut out for running a company. I really would like to put my own mark on the company and become a part of the team. Not just be thrust into it by circumstances and nepotism', he concluded.

I gripped his hands tightly. 'I shouldn't be the one giving you this advice, specifically because I do have my own ulterior motives'. I gave him a sly wink. But I think you have to try it. Go for it; see if it's for you. L&L is a great place to work. I've only been their a few weeks and already I feel like I am part of it. I am sure that it will be the same for you.' I gave him another sly look, 'Besides, wouldn't you just love to have me working under you?' His laughter shook the room. Fortunately there weren't many patrons to upset so only a few heads looked over to see what was happening.

We walked back to the A frame hand in hand, like two teenage kids. Yes, this was the beginning of a very good.... and interesting relationship.

Work the next day was all a fog for me. Mr. Harrison arrived early in the morning for the closing meetings. He and Mr. Stanton had a few quiet words before the meeting started and a number of looks were thrown my way by both parties. They were smiling and I could just imagine what they were saying. Despite my best efforts I blushed profusely. Heck, he had been the one who had introduced his son to me. Why should I be embarrassed by what I am guessing, everyone knew went on between us.

Later in the day Greg showed up. My heart leapt within me when I saw him. I couldn't believe that his warm smile could make my pulse quicken so. Good Lord, I felt like a schoolgirl again! He didn't worry about pretenses or what anyone thought he just walked directly over to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek as he said, 'Hello, Princess.' Giving my shoulders a one-arm squeeze he released me and walked over to Mr. Harrison and Mr. Stanton. He couldn't cross the room though without shaking hands or trading kisses with at least twelve of the staff. Everyone was so glad to see him back; it was like watching the return of the prodigal son.

At least one of the younger women gave him a more than sisterly kiss and when he wasn't looking stared daggers at me. Tough luck I thought, as I smiled my 'he's mine now' smile back at them.

When he reached the two men they started discussing something in earnest. Within a couple of minutes Mr. Harrison was waving to me to join them. 'Sharon, I am hearing unconfirmed reports that you and this lug here are seeing each other,' he said in mock horror. 'Please, dear, say it isn't so.'

Playing the shy school girl I replied, 'I am sorry Mr. Harrison, but I just can't do that.' I looked up and said with my best Cheshire grin, 'In fact I think we are going to be seeing quite a lot of each other in the future.' I emphasized the words 'a lot' so that the double meaning could not be missed.

Greg gave his trademark chuckle. Mr. Harrison threw his hands up in the air. 'You cad you', he railed at Greg. 'You have already corrupted this poor innocent waif of a girl!'

Greg put up his hands in surrender. 'Don't blame me dad set me up with her', he said as he pointed at his father.

Mr. Harrison's horrified gaze shifted to Mr. Stanton. 'Arch, how could you have done such a thing?' he asked dumbfounded.

Everyone involved was near bursting with laughter. 'Actually, I asked him to', I chimed in. 'I just couldn't see any other possibility. In fact at the time I couldn't see much of anything at all.' The illusion to my blindfold at the time of our introduction was not lost on the group and finally the laughter came forth until the two older men were almost rolling on the floor.

Greg looked at me and smiled. 'Since these two gentlemen, can't seem to get themselves together, I will relay their auspicious request. They would like the two of us to attend dinner tonight at my father's home.' I wondered if things were moving too fast. This was uncannily like taking me home to meet his folks. You know that awkward meeting of the prospective in-laws. Somehow he read my mind. 'Hey don't worry everyone that is going to be there knows you... and loves you. You should worry more about me when I have to meet your parents. How do you think your father is going to feel about his little angel going out with a man who produced bondage films?' He paused with a glint in his eye. He was telling me quite a lot without actually saying it directly. Once again he was pointing out that he wasn't interested in a one-night stand. This was a long-term commitment he was talking about. I felt warm all over. I looked up at him and wondered how I could feel so much love for this man that I had just met and hardly knew.

'I had had other thoughts about ways to spend the evening. You were supposed to call, if you remember correctly', I chided him.

His smile knew no bounds. 'Ah, finally I have found a woman who has her priorities straight.' He sighed. 'Sorry to disappoint you, but I really don't think we can get out of this. When I strolled into the house early this morning Lucinda and Cassy set upon me like a pack of wolves. I apologize darling, but truly nothing was sacred with them.' My cheeks colored once again as I imagined exactly how graphic that conversation must have been. 'To make a long story short the two ladies were extremely happy for both of us and despite the fact that it was only a first date, they have determined that we all needed to celebrate.' His eyes softened as they bore straight into my sole. 'Look Princess, I know I am coming on like a bull in a china shop, but I have a real strong feeling about you.... about us.'

Tears formed unbidden in my eyes. I felt warm and wonderful. Reaching upwards I cupped his face in my hands and said softly, 'That's exactly how I feel, Greg.' Standing on tiptoe I just brushed his lips with mine. His eyes had closed expecting a longer kiss. I laughed and lowered my hands, 'Always leave them wanting a little bit more, my aunt used to always say.'

He reached for me, slid out of reach. 'You minx', he smiled as he stopped his futile chase.

'Now, now', I scolded him. 'You get to choose the how and especially the when, during our games, so it's only fair that I get my turn.' I smiled my prettiest smile at him. 'Partners, remember?'

He opened his arms, enticing me forward. Fun was fun, but this was much more important. I took a couple of quick steps forward and felt his strong arms encircle me. He kissed my hair lightly as my head rested on his chest.

'Partners, it is', he agreed.

'So I take it the young lady has consented to have dinner with the old fogies', Arch said with his normal joviality.

'You had better watch who you say that around dad', Greg admonished his father. I don't think Cassy, Lucinda or the Thatcher's would appreciate that remark. Of course if you are only referring to yourself and the gentlemen to your right well, then yes, the lovely lady has consented.' 'Just wait a minute there you young whipper-snapper', Mr. Harrison said in his best imitation of a crotchety old man. 'Is that anyway to talk to your future boss?'

'I hope so, Harry. You know I love you like an uncle, but what you get is what you see', Greg replied sincerely.

'Greg the truth is that I am very happy with what I see. You may have doubts about your skills or questions about where you fit into the organization, but I don't,' Harry responded equally seriously. His face turned into a smile and he continued, 'besides, in your case the apple didn't fall far from the tree.... Oh course I am referring to your mother's side of the tree.'

The men laughed and chatted some more, but we soon broke up and went our separate ways. Greg drove me directly to his parent's house. I tried to protest about wanting to change my clothes, but he pointed out the error of my ways. His parents always had their dinner parties early. Refreshments and talking first then a full blown dinner, followed by the men adjourning to the study and the women retiring to the living room. 'I know that it sounds old fashion', he sighed. 'But, that's the way it been for as long as I can remember.' I thought about it and decided that it sounded kind of nice.

The house wasn't the mansion that I had created in my minds eye, but it wasn't what I would term small either. The house was a six-bedroom colonial. The grounds were beautifully landscaped, with multiple types of shrubs, flowers and a few strategically placed dogwood trees. The driveway was huge and boasted a four-car garage. I counted six cars, three of which I knew. Lucinda, Mr. Harrison and Mr. Thatcher must already be inside.

I was so nervous as we approached the door that I nearly was trembling. Greg, somehow read my discomfort and removed his hand from mine and slid his arm protectively up around my shoulder. He gave me a smile and a little squeeze and rang the bell. Almost instantly the door was opened and a gorgeous petite woman with stunning long black hair greeted me. She held my hand in both of hers and said, 'You must be Sharon.' I nodded my head as she continued. 'After all that I've heard about you young lady I feel like I know you, but just for the record I'm Cassy Stanton.'

I blushed, just imagining all of the things that people were telling her about me. Quietly I replied, 'I feel like I know you also... Greg's talked about you quite a bit about you.'

His stepmother threw him a glance and Greg shrugged his shoulders, looked a little sheepish and said simply, 'Everything...' Her glance softened as she asked, 'Everything?' He nodded his head and replied, 'Even what Dad doesn't know'. Nodding her own head she looked back to me.

Before I knew what was happening Cassy pulled me forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. At the same time she whispered in my ear, 'I know that this is all a little overwhelming, but relax... you are among friends.' My eye caught the hint of movement to my left and then I saw her. Good God it was like looking into a mirror!

'You must be Sharon', Samantha Thatcher said as she held out her hand to me. 'You couldn't be anyone else; because my husband is right you could be my double. Ten years ago that is, but I sure wouldn't have any problem recognizing you.'

My jaw dropped open I really didn't know what to say. Finally I stammered out, 'It's... It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Thatcher.'

She gave me a shocked look. 'Please, call me Samantha. Mrs. Thatcher, coming from you, makes me feel old. Now do what Cassy says and relax.' She squeezed my hand and gave me a warm smile, 'don't worry we will all have time for some girl talk later on.' I wasn't sure what she meant, but I smiled back stupidly and told her I was looking forward to it.

After I got over the shock of seeing myself ten years from now, the evening went off beautifully. Before we joined the group Greg took me aside and whispered, `You're not actually her double you know.'

`What are you talking about' I asked him befuddled. `I could be her sister for gosh sake.'

`Oh, I'm not saying that you don't look alike' he grinned at me. `I'm just saying that unlike Sam your natural hair color isn't auburn.' He glanced knowingly down at my pelvic region.

I blushed and looked into his questioning eyes that begged an answer. `I was tired of everyone thinking of me as a dumb blond, all right.' His smile softened and he rubbed the tension from my shoulder blades. `My parents used to call me Bubbles as a child, you know like as in champagne. It was fine even through high school with all of my preppy friends, but when I went away to college… I just didn't want to be someone's little girl anymore.

He kissed me gently on the forehead, `You are no ones little girl any more princess and you can be anyone you want to be.' He pushed me gently towards some of the chatting ladies with the obvious direction that it was time to circulate. `Of course I am looking forward to your showing your true colors in the future!'

Everyone was extremely nice and treated me like I was already one of the family. It was wonderful, like a new extension of working at L&L. Dinner was a real party affair. The men gathered around the barbeque cooking steaks and chicken and the women setting up a host of cold dishes. Everyone had a drink or two, removing any of the tension that I had previously felt.

We ate at two long picnic tables and enjoyed the food and general small talk. Afterwards we all helped clearing away the remnants of dinner. This job accomplished the men and the women started to break into separate groups. Greg and I walked back into the house together, but he veered off into a paneled study following the rest of the men without a word to me. I felt a hand on my arm and turned to find Lucinda guiding me towards another room.

Now it was just us women and I quickly found myself the center of attention. Where did I go to school? Had I done much traveling? You know the normal run of the mill stuff. Basically it was Sam and Cassy doing the asking. Lucinda just seemed to relax back into a large wing backed chair and sip at her drink.

She had a wicked little grin on her face as she interrupted our genial conversation asking, 'And did Greg enjoy finding you bound to your bed in your skimpy blue corset Thursday night?'

Samantha stopped talking in mid-sentence. The room turned deathly quiet. I felt my cheeks burning red as I looked at her. Her eyes were laughing at me. Daring me to answer her intimate question.

'Yes', I said as boldly as I could. 'I think that he enjoyed it very much. And for the record it was a bustier, not a corset, Lucinda.'

Cassy, who was nearest to me, gave me a pat on the arm. 'Thata girl', she cried and then began to laugh. Sam laughed, but continued to look angrily at Lucinda.

'I'm sorry Sharon', she said to me. 'We, at least Cassy and I, were trying to ease you gently towards that subject but some people just can't leave well enough alone.' She glared daggers at Lucinda.

'Relax, Sam', Lucinda said unrepentant. 'You know as well as I do that our little women's club discussions always center around bondage or S&M in one form or another. If Sharon is going to be one of us let's not mislead the poor girl.'

Cassy jumped in obviously siding with Samantha, 'OK, thanks Lucinda. But, there is life outside of bondage...' She looked over at me. 'We just wanted you to feel comfortable before we...moved on into more interesting topics.'

'Thanks, everyone', I said quickly. I felt nervous, but excited at the same time. 'Look, I'm really new to this whole thing and I can see now that Lucinda is really just trying to save us all a lot of time. Right now what I am dying for is advice. I would really love it if you would just tell me what I should be trying to do... What I should be looking for...' I paused. 'I'm not making any sense am I?' They all shook their heads no. Great.

'OK, for example I can't wait to work with Greg, but I'm not sure how to handle working together. Could you help me out in this area?'

Sam piped right up, 'Oh that ones right up my alley. Look Sharon, when you are working together make sure that you do not disagree with him in front of others. You can carefully question his position on a certain issue, but only once. Then clam up and wait until you can get him alone. Remember he is your boss and despite your relationship outside of the office, he has to be seen treating you the same as everyone else. Does that help any?'

'Yes, that's great', I beamed. Then more shyly, 'Can I ask you a more personal question?' Sam nodded her head yes.

'What was it like making those bondage videos with Mr. Thatcher' The words just tumbled out of me, but gods I was dying to know.

Sam laughed and responded, 'The best part of making those instructional bondage videos was what you didn't see on tape we released. After he had finished tying me into whatever position was required, he would take some time out to drive me to the point of sexual frenzy. Kissing, caressing, fondling.... you name it and he did it. Then he would turn back to the camera and explain about the position and the way he had positioned the ropes or straps to enhance my comfort or the esthetic look of the bondage. Before the videos were released he edited out all of the sexual teasing scenes, but just watch the movies closely and you'll be able to pick up on it. One minute you see me calmly being tied to, say a chair and then there is a cut scene and Mike is explaining my bondage. Most likely you will see my chest heaving and my face flushed. If he had really got me going, you'll also see me straining at my bonds.' Her face took on a contented glow as she looked towards the ceiling and continued dreamily, 'those were good times. I still have the unedited tapes and when he's out of town and the kids are asleep sometimes I watch them while I...' Samantha flushed a bit as she realized how far she had opened up to almost a complete stranger.

'That's really beautiful', I said sincerely. 'I only hope Greg and I can share such wonderful experiences.'

Cassy laughed gently and the other joined her. 'I wouldn't be too worried about missing out on any experiences with Greg. He and his father are two peas from the same pod. When it comes to imagination those two just don't have any bounds at all. It was so fun watching those two go at it as Greg grew older.' She looked over at me directly. 'He told you about helping me out when he was a teenager, didn't he?' I nodded yes. 'Yes, he told me that he would let you loose from whatever bondage his father had put you into before he left for school and then tie you back up the same way before he got back home.'

Cassy shook her head sagely. 'Exactly, but that's not the whole story. Greg was good, but he was still inexperienced. It didn't take long before Arch figured out that somehow I was getting loose during the day. At the time he thought I was some kind of Houdini. So he made it impossible for me to free myself. But, somehow when he returned things weren't exactly as he had left them. A knot was loose, here. A buckle wasn't in its normal position. Little things, so now he realized that I had an accomplice. Good Lord, I tried not to tell him and protect Greg, but Arch was really getting mad. He began to think that I was having an affair on the side. He refused to hit me in anger, but his bitter words hurt more than the worst cut from a whip.

Finally I could stand it no more and I told him the truth. Arch almost collapsed into one of the chairs in the bedroom. He couldn't believe that his son knew about us. So I told him the whole story. How Greg had found me crying after the day he had finally gotten over losing his first wife. How I had told Greg how much he loved me, despite his actions (he had whipped the hell out of me to exorcise his own personal demons), and that things would get back to normal. Finally I told him how close it had made us. Not exactly mother and son, but definitely friends. In a few minutes Arch's feature had turned from worry, to excitement... maybe wonder is a better term. I remember him saying that the boy had talent, with a kind of proud look on his face. From that point on it became a battle of wits between the two.

He would try and tie me up in as complicated positions as he could come up with, trying to make Greg give up on his efforts to free me. He figured if he made it to difficult for Greg to put me back the way he found me that he wouldn't try to untie me. But, Greg has almost a photographic memory and he doggedly continued his rescue of me each morning. Soon he was almost as good as his father. I can't tell you how many times Arch came home, looked me and all of my bindings over and then declared that he had beaten the boy. Day after day now Arch would come home and smugly declare himself the winner. But, one day Greg slipped up and left a lock not properly latched. Arch was happily beside himself that he had caught Greg in his unsuccessful attempt to free me. It would have been OK, but he had already removed my gag and I stupidly said aloud, 'Damn it, he's always so careful with the locks....' Now my husband is no dummy and he picked up on my slip immediately. 'You mean to tell me he's been freeing you every time I've put you in bondage and this is only the first time that I've caught the little imp?' He demanded that I answer him. When I refused he started tickling me... with a feather... on the soles of my feet, under my chin, on my nipples... I thought I would die from lack of oxygen because I was laughing so hard. Finally I told him the truth. Arch went out, leaving me bound upon our bed. I worried about what he would do to Greg, but I shouldn't have. He returned late that evening smelling of beer. Greg and I had a nice little discussion he informed me. In point of fact, they had gone into the back yard with a case of beer and got drunk until Arch felt comfortable enough to bring up the subject. Greg won't be releasing you anymore I was told. Actually that weekend, while Arch was home to supervise he was ordered to cane my butt for allowing myself to be released without his consent. Greg had put up quite an argument about that point, I came to understand, but Arch told him that he needed the lesson to become a true 'master'. You could say that that whipping of my rump was his real coming of age.'

I couldn't help but ask, 'Does he like to whip his girl friends?'

Cassy looked at my sheepish face and countered my question, 'Do you want him to whip you?'

I gulped and answered truthfully, 'I don't know.'

Cassy smiled. 'Good, at least you're honest about it. Look, I love Greg just like he was my own flesh and blood. I think that you'll find that he'll wrap his own needs around what you are willing to give and not force you into anything you really don't want to do. My advice is to go with the flow. If you get in over you head tell him so. He's a real good listener and I get the feeling he's head-over-heels in love with you, so I'm sure you'll have no problem getting him to slow down in a certain area.'

The talk became more general thereafter. Precious pieces of information rained down upon me like mana from heaven. I learned two extremely important things that evening. One, even the bottom (submissive partner) has a say in bondage play. And two, both of these married women engaged in bondage fairly regularly and they relished their roles! I knew that I had much to learn and experience, but now more than ever I was truly looking forward to it!

Greg had a strong aversion to doing anything more than kissing under his family's roof. I really did not understand this at all. Knowing the relationship that he and his step-mom had and the fact that his father had been a party to getting us together, I just didn't understand. All I could remember that helped to make sense out of the situation was the time he was deciding if he would date me.

I was bound and blindfolded at the time. His father and Lucinda were watching as he kissed me for the first time and then caressed my hungry breasts. As our kiss became more and more passionate and his hands had begun to drift lower, his father had cleared his voice and suggested 'That perhaps we should get a room.' Seemed like a double standard to me, but then again I've never been a parent.

Regardless, this meant that after the dinner party I had to go back to Mr. Thatcher's house and my own empty guest room. I went to sleep frustrated, but with happy thoughts. Greg had promised me an interesting day tomorrow and had assured me that our separate sleeping arrangements would soon be corrected.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 8 - First Date - Appetizers

By the White Knight

I woke to a beautiful Saturday morning. Greg called me shortly after nine and told me that he would be by around ten. He said he'd like to do some bicycling and have a picnic and asked if I was game. I quickly told him that I was up for ANY GAME that he wanted to try. He was laughing as he hung up the phone.

We spent the entire day together. Biking, eating, drinking wine, and playing Frisbee... you know, acting like love struck teenagers. That was exactly how I felt. Just like a confused schoolgirl, who all of a sudden finds herself hooked up with the quarterback of the football team. The soft rock radio station we were listening too played a very appropriate old Heart song, 'Magic Man'. Everything was like a wonderful fantasy.

As dusk began to fall he took me back to the cottage. We used separate showers and put on clothes appropriate for an evening 'out on the town'. He hadn't been very specific what that meant so I decided on a sexy lime green sheath dress.

The dress slid on easily. The top was a halter type with an open back. I buttoned up the collar behind my neck and seated my naked breasts into the soft lining of the triangular top of the garment. I had already put on a lacy white hose and garter belt set, so all that was left were shoes. Knowing that I shouldn't do it, but not being able to stop myself, I grabbed the spiked heeled white pumps Greg's father had given me earlier in the week.

I smiled at my own wickedness. These types of shoes were often referred to as 'fuck me' pumps, by both me and my girlfriends. Essentially, the thought pattern is, if you would wear shoes like that to attract or please a man there wasn't anything that you wouldn't do for him. Being as this was exactly the message I was trying to send to my new lord and master... what could have been more appropriate? Besides many of our discussion during the day had revolved around sex and this had had the same effect on me as perfectly performed foreplay. Because of this I desperately wanted to look as hot as I felt!

Not knowing if we would be outdoors late in the evening, I also threw a white crocheted shawl over my shoulders. Then I met up with the Thatcher's and Greg in the kitchen.

'Good lord, you look wonderful', said Samantha as I walked into the room. The two men were holding glass mugs of beer and raised them said in unison, 'Here. Here' I could only laugh and think that this crew had definitely been friends for quite a long time.

'Hmmm. Hmmm', Mr. Thatcher said. 'I remember when you used to get all dressed up like that for me.' Sam gave him a gentle slap on the arm. 'You make it sound like ages since the last time I dressed up for you, now is it really that long?', Sam asked softly as she put her arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. 'No. No', Mr. Thatcher replied quickly. 'It hasn't been all that long at all, but...' Sam didn't even let him finish his sentence.

'You men and your buts' she chided him. 'Oh, all right. When these young lovebirds leave I'll give you a show you won't soon forget.'

Mr. Thatcher almost choked on the sip of beer he was taking. He, of course, had no way of knowing how well we 'girls' had gotten acquainted the previous evening so he was a little shocked at his wife's openness in front of me. When will men ever figure out that women tell each other all the gory details?

On that note I think we had best leave', said Greg with a quick smile as he took my hand and led me through the door. 'You do look wonderful', he said as he opened the car door. I was still getting used to the height of my new heels and I soon realized that I couldn't just step normally into his low riding sports car. Turning my rear end toward the opening I held out my hand to him. He instantly knew what I needed and gave me the support I required to slide down into the car without having the hem of my dress wind up about my waist! Holding both legs together I pulled them into the car. Greg just stood there at the open door shaking his head as he openly admired my legs and heels. In a flash of inspiration, I pulled up my dress and gave him a flash of my white garters and matching white lace panties. He gave one of his wry chuckles and closed my door.

When he got behind the wheel, he looked over and smiled. 'You are just too good to be true. What am I ever going to do with you'. He reached over as he spoke and used one hand to guide my lips to his. We kissed softly enjoying our newfound love.

As our lips finally parted, I sighed softly, 'The phrase 'take me to bed or loose me forever' seems appropriate.'

Greg frowned and shook off his own passion-induced fog to ask, 'What'.

I looked at him slyly and said, 'You asked what you should do with me... and I told you.'

He shook his head once more, 'That's what I like about you. You've got your priorities straight.' Then he sighed, 'Unfortunately I have reservations for two at 'La Chateau' and the thought of making you wait till after dinner has a certain amount of appeal to me.'

He started the car and began towards our destination. Reaching over and rubbing his thigh, I slyly responded, 'Make me wait... what about you? Are you willing to wait also?' My hands moved to his crotch and I could definitely feel his interest spring to life. I continued my manipulations, rubbing his straining member through his slacks. He tried to remain passive, but finally could take no more.

Greg shook his head once more and chuckled, 'Now that was very naughty of you, my dear. I had been perfectly willing to share your abstinence, but your behavior has altered that situation.' I looked at him quizzically. He reached over and touched my lips and then used the same hand to point to his crotch. I licked my lips and wondered if I could refuse. I had no apprehension about blowing him, it was just I wanted him in me so bad that it hurt.

'Is that an order, master', I asked softly.

He nodded his head, hen added, 'If you are particularly pleasing I may even rub your pussy....' Sighing, I worked myself into position and muttered, 'You're all too kind, oh master'. He reached across my now arched back and wacked me good on my right cheek. 'Ooouuucccchhh', I squealed.

He looked at me sternly, 'At this moment I am the master, do not forget your place'. My tush stung, but not severely. I was going to have learn his signals better on just when that fine line between partner and submissive was crossed. And quickly!

I was a little miffed at first that he would use me this way, but then the light dawned. I wanted to please this man. I loved the way that his entire attention was focused on me. How he noticed what I wore, how I walked, what I said... nothing escaped him. I liked his commanding manner, which was not cruel but under the circumstances proper. Old what his name only paid attention to me until he got what he wanted. After that I might as well have been a piece of furniture for all of the notice I received. But not my Greg. His eyes never strayed far from me and he listened intently to everything that I had to say. Not because he was looking for faults (which was like my father), but because he truly appreciated me.

'I'm sorry master', I said demurely as I worked to open his pants. 'Please forgive my impertinence. My only excuse is that I am so hot for you that I can barely control myself.' I ended the last statement in a breathless huff as the words had just poured out of me. Greg smiled as he watched the road, 'I will take your situation into consideration. Please me dear lady and I assure you that all will be forgiven.' As I opened the folds in his boxer shorts, and his manhood popped out like jack being released from his box. 'I see that you can definitely understand my situation, my lord', I breathed softly as I wrapped my right hand around his pole.

His eyes still on the road, he chuckled and replied simply, 'Definitely.'

Despite our earlier liaison, I had not yet had the chance to view my lover's reproductive organs in all of their excited glory. I guessed that it was a good eight inches in length. The circumcised foreskin and the width reminded me very much of my rubber phallus from the multi pack stimulator. Not overly wide or unbelievably long, but very lovely all the same.

His hardened member bucked of its only volition within my stretched fingers. I hadn't done anything yet but it was saying, 'I want you... NOW'. His admirable manhood emphasized this point by releasing a drop of pre-cum. There was no time to loose and certainly no time for finesse. I gave Greg a big kiss directly on the top of his throbbing head and with a big noisy lick slurped the drop of clear cum off. With no further foreplay I lowered my head onto his cock.

My mouth was forced open and my lips spread widely as they popped over the extra lip of skin around the head of his member. I slid half way down his passion post before I retreated backwards to hold only the head of his hard rod within my soft warm confines. I prided myself on my oral skills, especially being able to absorb every bit of my suitor's one-eyed monsters. But, I needed a minute or so to get acclimated to the feel of him within my mouth.

I swirled my tongue over his embedded head and was reward by an excited groan. Closing down the sides of my mouth I sucked hard upon his engorged meat, like a straw in a thick milk shake. This pulled him further into me by vacuum power alone. He soon hit the back of my throat and this set off my gag reflex. I was ready for this though and hardly missed a beat. I stopped the sucking, relaxed until the urge lessened. Then I looked down, there was still a long three inches to go.

Arching my back I moved into a more favorable position. I could feel his arms holding the steering wheel, touching my back each time I lifted my head, when only the tip of his penis remained between my lips. Another swirl of my tongue and at the same time I took a deep breath. Now, I was ready. Closing the sides of my mouth I slowly rode down my lover's vein covered path. Just past the mid-way point I felt him against my throat, but still I pressed on. Closing my eyes, I stifled my initial gag and continued downward. I refused to stop until I felt my nose and chin brushed by his wiry pubic hair. Satisfied that I had my lover's measure now, I went back upwards.

Immediately upon arriving, I started the plunge again, this time faster. Up and down, my entire mouth traveled the length of his manhood, again and again… faster and faster. Until I became like some exotic machine, sucking his aching staff mindlessly. His buttocks shifted under me. His breath hissed from clenched teeth. Greg moaned my name and then what sounded like 'Princess' as he worked to keep control of the car. On the end of one of my downward strokes his member bucked within my mouth. I knew that this meant that he would be cumming in short order. Sliding back up his cock, I held only the first two inches or so within my mouth as I started using my encircling fingers to pump him.

I sucked as hard as I could, while using my hand to simulate my mouth traveling up and down his pulsating penis. My eyes popped open as Greg came with an amazing opening blast. I gagged a bit as those first globs of jism hit the back of my throat, but I soon brought myself back under control.

His load began to pour into my mouth and it was all I could do to swallow it all before it leaked out from between my lips. Greg's hips were now off of the seat as he thrust more of himself into my willing oral cavity. Continuing my massage with my hand, I ate down more and more of the thick warm cum. I was actually tiring of sucking and swallowing his jism. It's not like drinking a liquid, but more like swallowing a thick warm milk shake... with a unique salty flavor. What an interesting idea cum flavored milk shakes or how about cum flavored daiquiris! My fevered imagination was running away with me.

Finally his eruption ebbed and it became easier and easier to slurp down the last of his manly seed. Greg sighed in satisfaction and lowered himself back into his seat. I raised my head off his retreating pole and gave him a quick tongue bath to remove any of his juices that I might have missed earlier. Sliding him back into his shorts and re-fastening his pants I returned to my own seated position.

Greg's hand slid quickly over to my lap and lifted my skirt. He began a gentle rubbing of my clit right through my lace panties. As his breathing returned too normal, mine began to increase. 'I take it that you know that you have pleased me greatly, Sharon', he said as his finger caressed my inner thighs.

'Hmmm, yes Master', I moaned in answer.

'Pull your dress up about your waist', he commanded me softly. I didn't know why he wanted me to do this, but I truthfully didn't care as long as he continued to rub my enflamed clitoris. His fingers now slid into my panties. He gently played with my soft wet folds of skin before he sent a few digits in search of my excitement button.

'Do you know that many women don't like the taste of cum and most won't swallow it down the way that you just did' Greg said matter-of-factly. I didn't realize that he was looking for an answer until his fingers stopped their actions and he repeated, 'Did you know that?'

I moaned in frustration and almost shouted, 'Yes, yes, I know Master.'

His magic fingers began their animated rubbing once more. 'But you like it?' he questioned me. My eyes were closed. I loved the heat building within me.

'Sort of', I answered breathlessly.

'Sort of? But you swallowed every drop of my cum and cleaned off the residue from my cock. Why did you do that?' he demanded. His voice was not angry, just confused.

'Pride', I moaned as my climax neared.

'Pride?' he echoed. 'I don't understand?'

Oh, God, this is not the time to play twenty questions. On the other hand I didn't want him to stop again. 'Pride, that I can do something better than anyone else', I moaned and hissed my answer. 'I'm very competitive at the thinnnnngssss....' He began flicking that tender fold of flesh within my clit with his fingertips. '…things that I think that I am good at. I always want to be the best... go just a bit farther then others....' I began to writhe against my seat belt. Rather than this breaking his concentration, Greg simply shifted his movements to accommodate me. One, two... three fingers began driving in and out of me. "The taste of your seed doesn't… oh, my… doesn't repel me… it just is what it is."

'What an extraordinary answer. That's the first time I...' He slammed his hand deep into me, pushing me back against the chair. 'Ever, heard... ' Again he slammed into me. '…anything, like that!' This last thrust broke the damn. My hips bucked violently as I came like a possessed person. Each wonderful wave gave me tingles from chest to thighs. Greg continued to his pumping motion, but now more gently, as my juices flowed over his fingers. With a sated sigh I settled back down into my seat.

I was stirred from my sex induced funk, by Greg's soft voice, 'You had better take off your panties and get yourself cleaned up we're almost there.' He handed me a box of Kleenex's when my eyes finally cracked open. Oh, God, he was right. Now that he had brought it to my attention, I could feel my soaking panties against skin. I went to pull them off, but realized that my garter belts sealed them in. 'Damn', I groaned as I began to undo each of the four fasteners.

Greg chuckled as he noticed my predicament. 'One thing you'll have to learn is to wear your panties OVER your garters' he laughed.

I looked up at him for a minute to see if he was kidding, 'Over?'

He looked at me and responded, 'Of course. That way if I tie you to something and want to get to your love canal I won't to cut them off of you.' He paused giving me a moment to think about that.

'Or if you bring me to orgasm in my underwear, it won't be so darn difficult getting out of them. Correct?' I said finishing his thought for him.

'Exactly, my dear, exactly', he replied with a grin. 'There's an empty plastic bag in the glove compartment. It is usually used for garbage, but I am sure it would suit us now.' Finishing cleaning up as best I could with the tissues, I stuffed everything into the bag and dropped it to the floorboard. Looking up I realized that we were right around the block from the Restaurant. I had best wear my panties on the outside of my garters in the future or I am going to be very embarrassed one of these days, I thought to myself! Then I had a deliciously evil thought; maybe I just shouldn't wear any panties at all!

No panties. My God, I am going to be walking into a crowded restaurant in just a few minutes and I don't have any underwear on! I could feel the warm leather of the cars seat more keenly now that my mind was on that part of my anatomy. I looked down at my lap, self-consciously pulling my dress downward. Thank the Lord that I wasn't wearing one of my micro minis; at least this dress covered me to mid-thigh. Standing it fell to mid-way between crotch and knee, of course when I'm seated it rides up a good three or four inches.

As we pulled into the lot, Greg asked, 'Are you nervous'.

He had a sly grin as he obviously was referring to my current panty-less predicament. I shrugged, deciding that if this were some kind of test then I would pass it. Besides the likely hood of someone noticing that I wasn't wearing panties is probably about the same as getting hit by lightening, so to heck with it. As he opened my door and gave me a hand back onto my heels, I responded lightly, 'No. Not really.'

We were quickly escorted to our table, in a darkened corner of the restaurant. The host seated me himself. This called for some quick thinking. I used both hands to hold down the hem of my dress, so that it didn't ride up far enough to give the manager an eyeful, and sort of squatted off of my heels until my butt felt the chair. I smiled glowingly and he immediately went into his routine of telling us about each of the specials of the day.

Without a doubt he had seen nothing unusual. My confidence was restored and now it seemed like a good time for a little pay back. Greg knew exactly what he was doing when he made me orgasm. He knew that I would be walking into this restaurant without any panties on and he was obviously waiting to enjoy my discomfort. Well, two can play at this game, master or no master.

The effluent manager completed his litany. I smiled at him as he asked me, 'Perhaps the lady would like an appetizer before her meal?' He had leaned a bit forward and was waiting on my reply. I leaned even closer to him, until our heads were only a foot or so apart and softly replied, 'No thank you'. Then purposefully directing my gaze from him to Greg, I continued craftily, 'I've already had one'. Greg coughed on a mouthful of water and the waiter who at first was uncertain, now smiled in understanding. Barely suppressing his laugh he asked me, 'Then perhaps the lady would care for a drink?' I smiled again with Greg looking on expectantly. 'That sounds delicious', I answered, putting emphasis on the word 'delicious'. 'I think that I would like a daiquiri. Yes, a large… banana daiquiri.'

The waiter could barely contain himself as he asked Greg for his drink order. 'Your house red will be fine', he said with a shake of his head. 'And for dinner I think I'll be having the crow... do you know if it is in season? I just hate old crow.' The waiter gave up and laughed out loud. I am sure that everyone in the restaurant looked our way, but I didn't care. I was having the time of my life.

The waiter left after a minute of unsuccessfully trying to compose himself. Greg shook his head, looking at me ruefully. 'Don't tell me, your exercising rule number one'. I smiled back at him and nodded agreement. During our long talks we had worked out some rules for our relationship, being as it wasn't your everyday type of courtship. The first rule that we had set up was that when it came to sex, he was the master and I was the submissive. Anytime other then sex, though, we were partners and I could do whatever I darn well pleased.

'Hmmm, yes I am' I replied airily, `and to quote you only minutes earlier in the car, 'whatever are you going to do with me'?'

He smiled ruefully and dinner went on normally. Of course I was trying to get his goat, at least a little bit. I wanted him to know that I valued his companionship and that I could and would play with him. But, that wasn't my only reason. Part of me wanted Greg just a little bit miffed at me, so when we entered into bondage tonight (as I knew that we would), he would have just that little bit of extra added incentive to make it real.

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. I believe that I got out of the restaurant without anyone knowing that I wasn't wearing any underwear. To top everything off the manager was so happy with the little show that I had put on earlier, that he didn't charge us for the bottle of wine.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 9 - First Date: Bondage Challenge - Part I

By the White Knight

Greg drove us over to the best hotel in the area, a Marriott. We rode the elevator to the 20th and top floor. The room he led me into was not just a room but a suite. There was a living room with a dry bar, the bedroom and a huge marble encrusted bathroom.

As he showed me around I kept waiting for him to show me what he had lined up... in the way of bondage. 'So where do I get tied up first?' I asked, too excited to let the little drama unfold by itself.

He smiled at me and placed his hands lightly on my shoulders. 'That my dear is a question to which first you must answer another question.' I looked at him quizzically. 'I have left this evening very open ended. We can either enjoy it as the special night that it is, that is just jump in the sack and have fun.... or we could do some experimenting in bondage. I promise you there will be plenty of physical pleasure, for both of us, in either case. So what would you like to do?'

I hate questions like this. I didn't want to sound like some bimbo bondage groupie that he had told me of from his days as a film maker, but truth be told that is exactly what I felt like. I wanted to be helplessly tied-up and given those unbelievable orgasms that I had come to associate with bondage. But, what if this was another one of his little tests and he wanted me to choose the romp in the hay? Good, God, what do I do now? I shifted from foot to foot frowning, but not knowing how to get my point across. Unconsciously (or consciously, I'm not sure) I crossed my arms at the wrist and held them together as if bound in front of me.

Picking up on my movements, he grinned mischievously and asked, 'So you would like to make our evening out a bondage experience.' My face split into a beaming smile of pure sunshine. `If that would please you Master', I cried out softly, `yes, very much so!'

His chuckle split the air. 'Can you say that again.'? Without waiting for me to reply he continued. 'You know you sounded just like Barbara Eden from 'I Dream of Genie' when you said that.' I smiled at him as I thought about how true that was. `Well, all I can say dear lady, is that if Genie was half the woman you are, Major Nelson was probably a very happy man.'

I looked down towards the floor and asked hesitantly, 'You're not disappointed, with me are you, master?' He laughed and gave me a hug. My head rested contentedly against his strong chest. Sharon, I just want you to realize that you could have chosen either alternative and I would have been equally happy. Also darling, the one thing that you will never have to beg for in this relationship is bondage!'

I sighed happily. 'I want you in everyway a woman can want a man, but you're special Greg... You can lead me into a world that I've only touched on and to tell you the truth... I'm a little scared of it, but mostly I am fascinated by it. So I really want to learn more about… my new role.' The glow in my face dimmed, 'But if you didn't bring any of your gear... well, what will we do?'

Greg looked around the room. He walked back into each of the rooms, paying special attention to the bathroom. 'Fear not Lady Sharon, I believe that I can provide you with at least three more than adequate bondage opportunities with just the ingredients found in these rooms.'

I looked at him skeptically and then glanced around the suite. 'I find that pretty hard to believe' I finally countered.

'Ah, I sense a challenge here', remarked Greg. 'Ah ha, Watson the game is a foot! First, I have promised you three suspenseful bondage situations. You will have to be the judge on whether or not they satisfy you, but if I think that you are sandbagging me, I will request a third party hearing.'

I frowned at him not understanding what he meant. 'What are you going to do... bring in the hotel manager and ask his opinion?' I asked sarcastically.

He remained silent for a moment and then replied, 'An interesting thought, Princess, but I was thinking that we would explain the situation to an independent third party, like Cassy, and she will have the final say. That is if we disagree.'

I shook my head, 'No way not Cassy. She's your step-mom for God's sake. Lucinda will be the tie breaker.'

Greg nodded his head in agreement. 'Done', he cried. 'Now what do I get when I win?' he asked me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, peered up into his eyes and said huskily, 'I suppose that would depend on what would you like as your prize, oh lord and master?'

He paused considering for a minute and replied, 'Blow jobs to wake me up for the first week, rather than an alarm clock.'

I looked at him questioningly, 'First week of what?' I asked.

He smiled and wrapped his own arms around my middle, 'Why the first week that we live together of course.' He gave me a wink and one of those wry chuckles.

It took a minute for that one to sink in. 'So were moving in together?' I asked.

'But, of course, my dear', he smiled down upon me. 'We live together for three to six months. Then a pleasant engagement and finally married in twelve to eighteen months. Which is approximately how long that I figure it will take for our parents to put together an appropriate wedding. Sorry, can't tell you when I'll ask you to marry me... that would be bad form all 'round.'

I looked up at him stunned. My mouth gapped open. Shaking my head to clear it I asked, 'Just when did you decide all of this, oh masterful one?'

He wasn't fazed by my sarcasm in the least. 'During our first night together, I realized right then and there that you were what I had been looking for these past couple of years. Despite the fact that I am acting seeming very rashly, the truth is that I really want you in my life.' He paused and said softly, 'Besides, you'll have the time that we live together to really decide if you want to be my wife. When the time comes you can always say... no.' He said the last part so softly, that I could tell it hurt him to even think that I might one day give him that answer.

I hugged him so hard that I thought we would both fall over, but somehow we maintained our balance. When I finally loosened my grip, he said, 'Wow. If that's what you do when you're happy, I would hate to be on the receiving side of your anger.' He laughed at his own humor, something else that I was becoming accustomed to. 'Now what would you like if you win?' he queried me. Or perhaps you need more time to think it over.'

I shook my head from side to side. 'No, I know exactly what I want.' He smiled and looked at me expectantly. 'I want to be able to the final say in one of our decisions. I'm talking about our normal lives. For example, when we look for an condo or a house you may want to live in the city and I want to live in the suburbs. I promise you that I would do my best to compromise, but whatever I finally agree to, you have to agree to also.'

Greg frowned. 'I'm not sure that I like this, but I'll try anything once. Alright you are on!'

His face lit into a smile and I responded in kind. 'OK, then and away we go', he said spryly as he hurried towards the bathroom. He returned with a king size bath towel. To my amazement he opened a tiny pocketknife, like those you use to cut of the ends off of cigars, and made a cut in the fluffy fabric. Then he ripped downward along its entire length until he had a piece of material about one to two inches wide and five feet long. His grin knew no bounds as he handed me the first strip. Wrapping the soft terry material around my hands I pulled against the strip with all of my strength. With the exception of making my knuckles red, I achieved nothing. I nodded my head towards him acknowledging the towels restraining capabilities.

As he placed the fifth strip in my hands, I said, 'All right I'll admit you can you can tie me up with this stuff. But, I am looking for three very different bondage experiences. Most of all they have to be exciting!'

Greg acted out being hit by some imaginary weapon. 'You wound me, madam. How could you expect anything less of the all famous Gregory?'

Putting my fingertips to my lips in mock horror, playing along with his mood, I responded, 'Oh no, my lord. It was never my intention to question you're abilities I'm simply if it is possible in this limited environment.' I paused changing from my lady in waiting role to my vixen role as I gave him a wicked grin. 'Where would you like to immobilize me, my lord? Unless there is something else you would desire first.... oh master.' I ended with a breathy sigh.

'To the bed, you... you... temptress you', he cried waving the terry straps at me as he had pulled them from my hands. I scurried over and sat on the end of the bed. The maid service had already removed the heavy coverlet leaving only the turned down sheets and blankets. 'On your stomach harlot, into the middle of the bed with you and place your hands behind your back.' I had already been hogtied, so I had a pretty good idea of what he required of me. Sliding into the middle of the bed I turned over onto my stomach and crossed my wrists behind my back.

'Now we are going to see just how flexible you are you little vixen', he leered. With that he grabbed my right ankle and bent it back until it reached my reached my thigh. I winced a little at his roughness, but soaked up the wild experience of losing my freedom. Expertly he bound my ankles to my thighs. I found it uncomfortable, but not painful. Soon I felt him fiddling with my shoes. 'Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. We can't be having this,' he said. 'You are falling out of your shoes! And, as Dad has by now taught you, high heels used wisely are a bondage onto themselves.' I felt him wrap more of the strips around my instep and the sole of my shoes, pushing my foot tightly into highly arched soles. Finally these bonds were tied to each legs separate ankle-to-thigh binding.

My wrists were tied in a new way he had me bend each arm at the elbow. Next each of my wrists was tied to the opposite elbow so that my forearms formed a horizontal shelf along my back. A couple more slices of terry cloth was used to form a halter around my shoulders to which he attached my wrists. I winced again, as they were pulled further up my back. I bit my lip until he finally was satisfied. Taking a deep breath I did my best to get used to the painful pressure, which was being exerted on my shoulder muscles. I tried twisting my wrists in their bindings and shifting my arms into the limited different positions available, none of which helped alleviate the throbbing pain. Then an interesting thing happened. Once that I had given up fighting the pain and forced myself to relax, the pain receded to a dull ache. It was sort of like if I just accepted it and the worst of it went away.

I felt his weight leave the bed for a few minutes, but he returned quickly. Just as I was getting used to this new bondage position he began to spread my legs apart. My dress had obviously ridden mid-way up my rump as I felt him kneading my milky moons. 'Oh my what a pretty little pussy you have here girl', he rumbled as his fingers moved to my love mound. I was already extremely excited and my juices greased his way into me. Slowly he began pumping his hand in and out of me, sliding two and then three fingers into my hungry lower lips.

I moaned in desire as he continued to finger me. Each stroke of his arm forward buried more and more of his hand deep into my cunt. One finger, two... three four.... My poor cunny was stretched widely about his hand as now he pressed all of his pyramid formed digits into me. Jesus, he was trying to get his whole hand into me! The pressure was becoming intense. The battle within me between pain and ecstasy was raging like wild fire. God, it felt so good and yet at the same time I felt like I was going to be ripped apart. I groaned as he penetrated me further and further. 'Oh, yes... oh, yes ...please, do it to me. This... is... so.... good!' I could feel a tidal wave building within me. 'Oh, lord.... yes!' Just as I was nearing the peak, his hand slipped from within me.

'Oh, please lord.... please have mercy on your bound slave girl.... pleaaase, let me have my release.' I shifted and tossed about, but in no way could I stimulate myself. I smiled as I felt the first touch upon my tender lips. For some reason he was spreading them with the tips of his fingers. Then I felt it. It was cold. Hard and ice cold.

'What's that', I cried in dismay. The hard coldness was being pressed into my slick opening. I shuddered and tried to close my legs, earning a quick slap to my butt.

'Behave. It's just a coke bottle', Greg said sarcastically.

I could feel him pushing the cold plastic into me. 'God, Greg, what are you doing?' I demanded. That earned me any even harder rap on the ass. 'Slaves are supposed to be seen and not heard' he intoned. 'But it pleases me to your question. I am going to put this coke bottle into your love box.' I gasped for air and opened my mouth to protest. Another slap, made me think twice.

'Relax', he said. 'It's only a twelve ounce bottle'. The ribbed cap had already passed easily into me. With a twist and a push the thick middle of the bottle slid half way into me.

'Oooofffff', I moaned. 'Oh, God and I thought your hand was bad.' I moaned again and complained, 'God, you splitting me apart!' With another heaving push the bottle slid even further into me.

'Oh, you are a trying slave girl. One definitely in need of discipline', he stated. 'I only have available to me so many things in this room, so I had to make do. I must say it worked out well. With only the thicker part of the bottom not in you, it looks like your cunt is swallowing the bottle trying to drink the soda. I wish I had a camera... this would open up a whole new avenue of advertising!' He laughed at his own joke.

'Besides you didn't expect me to leave you bound like this without something left to agitate your sex, did you?' he asked.

What was he talking about? 'What do you mean leave me?' I asked incredulously. Without answering my question he took another piece of the towel and thrust it between my teeth. He had placed a largish knot in the middle, which took the place of the ball part of the gags that I was becoming used to. I yelled into my gag. Trying to demand that he answer me.

I glared at him as he sat besides my head and picked up the phone. 'Yes, room service, I would like a bottle of your best champagne sent up to twenty-oh-two', he said. The phone buzzed with a response. 'Yes, yes that will be fine. I'll be out of my room for a bit, just tell the bellman to leave it in the bedroom. The tip will be on the bed.' As he hung up the phone, I found that I couldn't move. I was totally in shock. He was going to leave me alone trussed up like a bird waiting to be baked, with a coke bottle sticking from my honey pot for some bellman to find! I couldn't believe it.... this couldn't be happening.

Before I could even gather my wits to form a complaint I felt the bedspread being pulled over me. He used it to entirely cover both the bed and me. Then I heard some rustling of paper. 'I'm leaving a ten dollar bill at the foot of the bed. If I were you I wouldn't do anything to attract attention to myself when that bellman gets here.'

With that he left the room. Finally my voice returned and I screamed and damned him through my gag. I pulled futilely at my bonds. I looked around myself desperately. Good, Lord, my body was forming a tent of the coverlet! It had to look like just what it was from the outside... a bedspread covering a bound human form! And there was nothing that I could do about it. If I moved at all I might inadvertently shift the bedspread off of my body. Shit!

It soon became hot under the covers. Little beads of perspiration rolled down my forehead and cheeks. I couldn't tell if the sweat was from my fear, the heat or a combination of the two. My mouth was so dry that it felt like a desert. Unlike the rubber ball gags the terry absorbed all of my mouths moisture like a dry sponge.

Everything was becoming more and more intense. I could hear my heart quickly beating in my ear, which was pressed against the mattress. My shoulders and legs ached form the strain imposed upon them by their restraints. Even my feet felt cramped and pinched within my tightly bound heels. God, where was Greg going? What was taking the bellman so long? It seemed to me like hours rather than minutes had passed.

'Brrrringgggg' the bell to the room rang. Then there was a knock on the door and I heard it opening. 'Hello. Your champagne is here.... hello?' Getting no response I heard a cart pushed in my direction. I held my breath and tried desperately not to move a muscle. I heard the bellman whistling and glasses clinking as he set everything up. 'POP' the sound of the bottle opening startled me and I twitched under the covers.

'Huhn', I heard the waiter mumble. 'Ummm, excuse me is there anyone here?' I closed my eyes and didn't move another muscle. I could feel his eyes boring into the bed. He had to be wondering what was under the rumpled covers. He was probably wondering if he could get away with peeking underneath them. I was sure that he was edging towards the bed.... I almost screamed as I felt his hand lit upon the bedspread...

'Hey, thanks a lot', he cried to the room at large as I heard a rustling of paper money. Whistling once more I heard him close the door as he left the suite. My breath exploded from my body as I gasped for air. I hadn't realized it at the time, but I must have been holding my breath almost the entire time.

Oh God, Oh God.... I kept moaning to myself. I was rocking from side to side, like a little girl trying to comfort herself. The fear of discovery... the shock of my jumping to the pop of the cork... and now the relief of knowing once again I was safe. 'Ohhhhhh God... ', I moaned again, this time due to the unbelievable pressure of an orgasm that was building up within me. It took me by surprise, but the release from my terror and the effect of the rocking on the coke bottle were having a wonderful effect on me. My sex was burning with desire. I began to scissor my legs open and closed, not an easy task, but my need pushed me beyond normal strength. I could feel the smooth plastic rubbing against my inner walls. My leg movements were pushing the pseudo dildo marginally into and out of my hungry cavern.

'Ohhhhhh YEAH', I yelled into my gag as the waves cascaded over me. Over and over and over again. God, how can he continue to find ways to make my orgasms even more and more intense, I wondered as the warm after glow began to settle upon me. I lounged contentedly in my bonds, now enjoying everything in the whole world.

Greg returned shortly afterwards and promptly removed my gag and pulled out the coke bottle. 'Ahhhh', I groaned in relief, as my stretched cunny was able to relax to normal size. 'That was the most horrifying thing that has ever happened to me.' I paused looking up at his smiling face. 'But, Good Lord, you are good', I moaned as I stretched within my bindings.

Greg wrapped the slippery coke bottle in a linen napkin as I spoke. 'Yes', he answered. 'I can see that I was even better than I expected.'

For whatever reason, I blushed at that statement. 'God, I was so scared that the bellman was going to lift that bedspread at any moment...' then I told him the rest of my story in a gush of unrelated thoughts and feelings. Greg continued to smile at me as he sat next to my head and looked down upon my bound form. I could see his eyes looking over my entire body as I spoke. His fingers caressingly combed through the hair at the top of my head. Strangely it made me feel good. Like a fashion model being appreciated for the way she walks down the runway.

'Just what would you have said, pray tell, if the bellman had found you and removed your gag?' He asked with a chuckle.

I had to think about that one. It's funny but up until now I hadn't thought of saying anything. Hell, I was bound and gagged with a coke in my twat. What could I say? Could I borrow your bottle opener? 'I guess that I would have told him that my boyfriend had gotten kinky on me... but, to leave me as I was. I'd try to make him believe that this was a one time thing, that I loved you that I had agree to play along with you', I finally answered.

'You see you weren't entirely helpless', Greg said. 'He might have gotten an eyeful and had a great story to tell his friends, but that was about the extent of your danger.'

I thought about it and how I had felt so frightened about being discovered... 'But, he would have seen me like this', I tossed my head from side to side trying to encompass my entire body with the motion.

'Yes, he would have. Would that have been so terrible?' he asked calmly.

My mouth opened, but no words would come out. 'Wha... Wha... What are you trying to say, that I would like someone else seeing me like this?' I asked incredulously.

Looking at me seriously he answered, 'I don't know. You have to answer that question for yourself.' He paused and we just looked into each other's eyes. Both of us silently questioning the others motives. 'What do you really like about bondage?'

Ah, so this is what he was leading up to. God, this man was hard to please. He wants to marry me, but at the same time he questions my motives for loving what he obviously loves at every turn. I guess that I can understand though, he's been burned before and he's scared of me doing the same thing to him. Sooner or later he will understand that he doesn't have to worry. 'It all very new to me', I responded openly. 'I'm not sure about everything that I like and don't like yet, but I do know this, I like being bound here before you. Despite all of the physical discomforts, there is something immensely satisfying in being helpless and totally dependent upon you... my loving master. But it is for you and you alone that I wish to give this gift.'

I smiled at him and he leaned down and gave me a soft tender kiss. 'What do you like about bondage?' I countered him softly.

'First off, don't worry I'm not into sharing as for the rest my feeling are similar to yours, I most like having you helpless before me', he responded equally softly. One of his hands began to trace my bound limbs. 'I love looking at the almost mathematical symmetry of your bound form. Hmmm, yes', he sighed. 'You my dear are undoubtedly a beautiful woman, but when you have given yourself to me so completely and when you are bound so wondrously... well, to me it makes you the most exciting women in the world!' He sighed once more. 'In all honesty, looking at you dressed so provocatively and bound so makes me hotter than I can tell you. I have to constantly restrain myself so that I don't just give into my impulses and screw you wildly as soon as I see you.' He paused again; I said nothing because I realized he was baring part of his sole to me. 'Princess, every time I think of you I want you. Every time I look at you I desperately want you and every time you're bound before me I can barely control myself...' He hung his head, as if in shame. I didn't see the problem he seemed to be facing within himself.

Quietly I told him, 'That's lovely honey, but truly I don't see your dilemma.'

His face-hardened and he rasped back at me, 'I'm the master I am always supposed to be in control!'

I felt like laughing out loud. Now I know zip about being a master, but I had read my share of romance novels and my honey fit right into the classic mold. 'Master', I said softly. 'You are always in control. I have no desire, or will, to take that from you.' I paused trying to figure how to frame the rest of my assurance. 'From my point of view, what you are saying isn't a problem, but something wonderful.' He raised his head and his eyes looked at me probingly. 'That your desire for me could drive such a strong man to distraction must assuredly mean that you love me. I can't think of any nicer compliment that you could pay your, oh so contented slave.' He smiled at my wink and his dark mood seemed to break.

He looked up at the ceiling and said, 'God, whatever I did to deserve this incredible woman, please tell me and I will promise to do more.' Looking to me 'You know that you are incredible, don't you?'

I smiled and did my best to shrug my shoulders, 'I find it hard to believe, but I love it when you tell me so!'

He rolled me unto my side as his lips found mine. I pulled a bit at my bound arms, despite knowing better, I just really wanted to hold him. His kisses became more and more passionate as his hands explored the tightly stretched material covering my breasts. One hand slid gently down my side until it reached the strip of towel binding ankle to thigh. He traced the indent caused in my flesh by the very secure bonds, with his sensual digits.

Both of our breathings had increased. God, I wanted him. I wanted him now. I wanted him exploding in me.... NOW! Like telepathy he seemed to know, what I wanted. But rather than complete the act, his kisses began to slow and his hands moved behind my head. With a last few kisses he broke off our embrace and cupping my head looked deeply into my eyes. 'I love you Princess', he said simply.

'I love you Master', I responded softly. We smiled at each other. Life was good.

Leather & Lace

Chapter 10 - First Date: Bondage Challenge - Part II

By the White Knight

With a few deft movements Greg removed the strips of cloth from my legs and upper body. I sat up and rubbed gently at my wrists. It was interesting that the soft cloth had hardly left any marks on my skin at all. Certainly there was a certain amount of redness, but nothing like the angry looking indentations made by rope. I was surprised to realize that I sort of missed that look.

'Come on, Sharon. Act Two is about to begin and guess who's the star attraction?' my master said as he held out his hand. Accepting his help, I stood up besides him awaiting further orders. 'Into the living room with you wench', he cried. I gave a short curtsey, the best I could in my sky-high heels, and then scurried out of the bedroom.

Greg turned off all of the lights around the room before he opened the drapes. I gasped as I realized that the wall was made up entirely of floor to ceiling panes of glass. The entire town was spread out before us. The glimmering lights of the street lamps, pretty apartments and cute houses were spread out below us and up the nearby hill. It wasn't the Manhattan skyline, but it was still a beautiful picture.

There was almost a full moon and this cast a bluish light into the room. Taking a chair from the desk in the corner, Greg placed it close to the window. I was a little miffed that he had it facing into the room, but I moved over to sit in the chair without complaint. As I turned to sit I noticed Greg shaking his head 'no'. 'Sorry darling, no sitting down on the job. You'll be standing behind the chair and tied over it', he informed me. With a sweep of his hand towards the solid glass wall he smiled and asked, 'Get the picture?' Bound over the chair my naked butt would be on display for the entire town. Granted no one could see into the darkened room, but.... just the thought of being on display like that started my juices flowing once more.

'You are very devious, master Gregory', I said in a soft sensual voice. 'I like that in a man!' I slid submissively into position as I spoke.

Tapping my legs he had me spread them so my feet were outside of each of the chairs back legs. I was able to look down and watch as he attached me to the chair. It was like watching a craftsman at work. Each leg was bound, a little higher than ankle level, to the crossbars and rear legs of the sturdy seat. This was not the amazing part though; it was the loving way that he did it. Both of the bonds looked like perfect duplications of the other. Somehow, despite the rough medium he was using, he made the bonds look... attractive. I couldn't help thinking pride fully that Mr. Thatcher better watch his back, because my man was every bit as good as him. Maybe even better!

I tested my bonds as he rose from his crouched position. They were not loose, yet at the same time neither were they overly tight. They seemed to encase my white nylon stocking covered calves and the wooden struts in a new and immovable coating of terry material. He asked me to hold out my wrists.

'Greg.... I mean master', I said shyly. 'May I tell you something?' He nodded his head, yes. 'I can't understand it, but when you tie me up.... no not just because you are tying me up, but the skill with which you bind me.... well, master, it does something to me... it sort of... makes me hot.', I ended my flustered statement softly.

Smiling he continued his work of binding my wrists. 'This is definitely the beginning of a beautiful friendship' he intoned. 'Princess, please don't feel shy about telling me these things. Feel free to tell me your likes and dislikes, about anything and everything that we do. I promise you they will never be held against you.' Finishing tying my wrists together, side by side, he continued, 'In fact because of your frankness, I am going to forgo your gag during this bondage scene.' Pressing gently against my bare shoulder he added, 'Now lean forward so that we can complete your positioning'. Bending at the middle, I used my hands to help keep my balance as I followed his instructions. I was able to get pretty comfortable, by spreading my elbows and using them as support for my upper body. The weight caused them to dig into the seat of the chair, but it was well padded, so with a few adjustments I was entirely satisfied. Greg did not seem to object as he busied himself with using another piece of the towel to bind my joined wrist to both front legs of the chair. Lastly, he passed a strip around my waist and bound me to the frame backing.

He stood back and I watched him through a cloud of my own hair. Greg looked at me like an artist examining his work. I almost laughed as I realized that his calm demeanor was only a front... at least judging by the bulge in his pants! 'Legs straight, darling', he softly admonished. I quickly tightened my stance.

The only problem with my position was that with the addition of my five-inch heels, my mid-point was above the back of the chair. Keeping my legs straight put a lot of strain on leg muscles, much more than I would have ever realized. Grunting, I settled my buttocks up a little higher, making it more predominant. Starting at the hem of my skirt he carefully rolled it up until it was just a lump of material behind the strap binding my waist to the chair. Greg looked out the window and said thoughtfully, 'I wonder if there is some guy out there on the next hill with a telescope. Out to look at the constellations and finding himself starring at your lovely moons.' His hands caressed me as he spoke and I all but melted to his touch. I moaned gloriously. I still could not get over how being bound could make the simplest movements so sensual.

His hands were not confined to my curved rear, but slid down my legs. Digits tested my garters and rubbed them against my smooth thighs. Lace stocking tops were given special attention all of there own. Caresses flowed down white nylon sheathed legs, until I knew he must have been kneeling behind me. His tongue darted out and touched one of my cheeks. I gasped excitedly, expelling all of the air in my lungs. My feet ground into the toes of my high heels as I squirmed to find release from my bindings. Once again his tongue licked me, closer this time to my heated sex. 'Oh God, please master. Please....' I cried out. All I received were a few more teasing strokes and strained muscles from trying to escape my bonds. I desperately wanted to grab his head and push it between my legs.

He stood and moved his attention to my chest. Strong hands cupped my breasts through thin material of my halter-top. I shivered as my nipples hardened to his touch and rubbed teasingly against the soft inner lining. 'Please master, take me. I need you in me... Please', I pleaded breathlessly. With a quick little pinch to each nipple he removed his hands and turned to leave the room. Once again I moaned in frustration and desire.

I watched as he went into the bedroom. 'Master, your helpless slave wants you', I continued to plead. Receiving no answer I tried, 'How long are you going to leave me like this master?' It was difficult to hold my head in the position to see the bedroom door, so I didn't notice his return right away.

'Oh, not long, Princess', he answered. Just long enough to get you to come once or twice.' I smiled up at him through my cascading hair and cried out happily, 'Oh thank you, master'. He turned to put on the stereo. Rock music began to fill the room. It was louder than I thought necessary. But as he turned towards me I began to understand his reasoning.

Leaning further forward I used my bound hands to pull my hair from in front of my eyes. I gulped. 'What do you have there master?' I asked. He held out what look like an eighteen inch rod and responded, 'A shoehorn, my dear. All fine hotel's are equipped with them'. He turned it over in his hands. 'Wrapped leather handle, short bamboo shaft ending in a metal shoe horn', he intoned informatively. Changing his grip, he quickly swung the ordinary looking item that had now become a whipping tool. I closed my eyes and tensed my buttocks unconsciously. SMACK, the striking of the metal paddle sounded loud in the air.

I looked up mystified. The metal horn rested against his own leg. 'Very effective actually, for such a crude replacement for a proper whipping implement', he said with a slight grimace. Then he smiled at me and dropped the offending item onto a nearby love seat. 'But guess what Princess', he said brightly. 'My purpose isn't to cause you pain.... well at least not to that extent. Oh no, my beautiful darling, my aim in your second bondage is to teach you that it is not only the bad girls who get spanked. Sometimes it is the very good girls that deserve such a reward.' I looked at him blankly at first. I really didn't understand, but his enthusiasm made me feel confident that what was about to befall me would not be horrible. 'Now what would you rather have me do, Princess', he asked softly. 'Whip you or spank you?'

Licking my lips I responded equally softly, 'Spank me please, master'. Then quickly realizing my gaff responding to his trick question, I quickly added, 'But, if it pleases you to whip me master, then that is what I wish.'

Greg shook his head. 'I thought I had you there for a minute, good catch Princess.' Stepping behind me he once again began to caress my milky moons.

'What an absolutely gorgeous rear end you have, my dear', he said gaily. My rear tensed, even to the point of twitching as I waited for him to begin. Seeing this he worked to calm me by using his fingers to lightly trace spirals on my ass. His soft caressing touch slid across my cheeks. He began rubbing my buttocks with both hands, warming my tender flesh. Silently he sent a hand between my legs and quickly drove a few fingers between my lips. 'Ah, you vixen, I really must marry you', he chuckled. 'Smart, beautiful, fun to be with… and hotter than a furnace when you are bound helplessly!'

At first I blushed, but then I just let my hair hide my delighted smile. I was feeling very very vulnerable in this position, but at the same time... I want to please him so badly. 'Especially when I am bound and helpless before you, master', I add softly. Greg chuckled once more. I was suspended in a state of excited anticipation as I awaited my coming ordeal. Smack. His strong bare hand met my quivering flesh.

'Mmmmm', I moaned through clenched teeth. Smack. 'Oh', I sighed. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. I moaned and groaned to each cut across my bottom. He was switching his swats from one cheek to the next, alternating on every other stroke.

After the first few strokes I began to realize that this spanking was different then any other that I had received in my life. Mind you the only one that had ever spanked me before this had been my father and that had been a long time ago. But what he was doing to me wasn't like a true spanking; it was more like a sexual stinging. His strokes were like glancing blows, slapping my rump hard enough to sting, but not like the painful strokes that I remembered from my childhood. My father had raised his hand straight up and whacked downwards with all the weight of his hand and arm. Gregory's hand was more like a plane practicing take off's and landings. Down, smack and back up again.

'I really wish you could see you ass when it gets hit. It's really quite amazing. Your cheeks are wonderfully firm, but they have just the right amount of extra padding that lets a slap ripple across them like a rock thrown into a pond.' He rubbed my heated skin, swirling the pain into a soothing caress.

Whack. 'Ooohhhh', I moaned. This blow had come upwards against the soft curve of my rear just above where it met my thigh. My left cheek was thrust upwards by this blow and I could feel my whole cheek wiggle. 'Hmmmmm', I winced as he repeated the same cut, expect this time to my right globe.

As his blows came closer to my aching pussy, the stinging sensation began to turn from pain to an almost indescribable pleasure. 'Oh, yes', I moaned as a grin spread across my face.

Greg, as always noticed everything. 'You are liking this aren't you Princess?' he asked as his next measured blow landed.

'Ooohhh, yes master', I moaned softly in reply.

'Are you almost ready to come, beautiful one' he asked softly.

I moaned again and shifted my hips seductively. 'Yes, please master. I just need a little more stimulation.... if you would please just touch my pussy....' I pleaded gently.

'That's what I'm here for, darling' he answered with another chuckle. He must have used a remote control, because just then the stereo changed songs. The unmistakable beginning of Thuorgood's 'Bad to the Bone' sounded ominously in the room. 'I broke a thousand hearts baby, before I met you...' the song stated as Greg sang along with it. He again rubbed my now aching ass with both hands. I winced at first, but then relaxed as it began to feel good. 'A little more stimulation, you say...' Greg stated happily. 'No problem'.

'Ow. Ow. Ooww. Ooww. Ooww. Ooowww. Ooowwww', I cried out in pain and surprise. When Thorgood stuttered out 'B-B-B-B-Bad, B-B-B-Bad, B-B-B-Bad, Bad to the Bone' Greg quickly slapped my pulsating puss in time to the music! The blows weren't hard, only swift stinging taps, but had switched to the crop / shoe horn and that made me stand up and take notice. My eyes popped wide open in shock. He had landed maybe fifteen of the quick strikes in half as many seconds. The hard round metal meeting my tender mons, sounded like the cracks of machine gun fire. My legs strained and my body jerked, trying to pull me upwards away from the swats landing between my legs. Thank God that it was over almost before I had realized that it had begun .
With the singer now going on with the lyrics, Greg's tongue began to work against my heated puss. Pushing my lips aside with one hand his tongue darted into my warm juicy interior. His second hand followed the crack of my ass upwards. His thumb found my rosebud and he began to stroke it. This combined with his tongue arriving at my clit, almost made me lose it. By bending my legs at the knees and then straightening them I am able to buck my hips in time to his pleasure giving oral delights. I could feel another wonderful orgasm building within me....

B-B-B-B-Bad... 'Ow. Ow. Ooww. Ooww. Ooww', I cry out once again. The stinging slaps once again, held off my orgasm. 'Aaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhh', I moan angrily in frustration. Clenching and unclenching my fists I bit my lip so that I wouldn't complain. Once again his hands were rubbing my reddened rump and then pulling my ass cheeks apart. This same process went on numerous more times until the song ended. Each time that I was ready to cum... SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. The hard metal greeted my soft flesh. My poor cunny was on fire and all I could do was moan and buck my hips in frustration!

'Just a little more stimulation, eh Princess', he asks again.

'OOOOoooohhhhhhhh', I moan in surprise.... and despite the shock in absolute pleasure. Obviously deciding that I was hot enough Greg had released his raging hard on and impaled me upon it! No warnings, just a little pressure and then one deep diving plunge. At first it felt like a hot poker had been shoved into my love canal. My bruised lips screamed in pain as they spread to accept his manhood but in seconds the lovely feeling of him driving in and out of me took over. 'Oh, yes', I screamed. 'God, yes. Do me Gregggg… Master!' Each of his inward strokes pushed his pelvis against my aching mound. As his balls slapped against my vagina it was like being spanked once again. This formed a weird pleasure / pain heat that flowed directly into my pussy like an electric shock.

Oh, God, the glorious pain and the wondrous satisfaction of finally having him dip his tool deep into me were incredible. 'Yessss, Yessss, Yessss', I screamed as my orgasm rumbled through my body.

Greg's motions had become increasing quicker as his own loud breathing matched pace. His strong hands gripped my hips tightly as he pushed and pulled my body forward and back to match his own rhythm. 'Oh, yeah', he hissed. Burying himself to the hilt, he exploded sending his warm milky seed deep into my womb. Pulling out quickly afterwards, he shot cascades of the sticky cum against my heated ass cheeks. Laying his cock into my crack he pumped himself until every last drop was drained from his still hard rod. I could feel it flow slowly, like a small river, down my split and unto my pubic hair.

Gasping for breath, I began to slowly relax and fade into that glorious after sex state. I lay heavily against the chair top. No longer did I have the strength to support my own weight. But, I didn't care in the least! Greg had once again begun to rub my buttocks, massaging his own cum into my flesh like a healing balm. Slowly, wondrously, his hands rubbed his seed into my heated cheeks. I groaned in absolute ecstasy!

With one last teasing slap to my rear he removed my bonds so that we could shower off our lust-coated bodies. As I turned to face him, he stood with his arms open and a grin on his face. 'Come here, honey', he whispered softly.

My dress fell back into place as I rushed into his embrace. He held my head gently and we shared a lovely tongue-tangling kiss. After a few loving minutes we separated. 'It may sound like a line from a movie, but I'll say it anyway. I never knew that I could be like this', I admitted softly as I shook my head.

'Neither did I, Princess. Neither did I', he breathed softly into my hair.

'Come on, Greg. You must have known... you have all the moves, you know just what to do... you must have experienced this before', I stated unbelievingly.

'No, I'm telling you the God's honest truth, Sharon. This isn't some line to make you feel good or special,' he said gently. 'YOU ARE SPECIAL. Everything I do with you is different.... It's better than I could ever imagine....' I still found it difficult to understand. 'But you've done this, or at least things like this with other women?' I persisted. Somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew that the thought of this had bothered me. It kept coming back to me, I suppose because I had never known that this world existed and Greg had been living in it.

'I've certainly had experiences like this', Greg emphasized the word like.

'Yes, I experienced bondage with other women. Not to mention Cassy and the films I've made, but I've told you that before. What we have together is so different it is hard to put into words. Sharon, the bottom line is that no one has ever touched me the way you do', he shared softly. 'The way you walk, the way you talk... and especially the delicious way you think!' A shiver ran through his body. 'Sharon, I can't stop thinking about you. Night and day, you're constantly on my mind. Everything from different lingerie that I would love to see you wear, to... thoughts of living with you for the rest of our lives.' He sighed heavily. 'I truly believe that I have found my sole mate and I hope you do also.'

I gave him a big squeeze and pushed away from him. He looked at me and couldn't help seeing the tears streaming down my face. 'I love you too sole mate', I said. I laughed only to stop my crying. 'But, we really are going to have to work on your sharing your thoughts. It seems to me like you have to fight with yourself to tell me these things.... Darling, I promise you that you're not giving up any control by telling me you love me. If anything it only makes our entire relationship stronger.' The tears refused to stop. 'Besides a woman loves to hear that her man desires her... wants her… needs her. Nothing can make life more perfect than to know that her man loves her!'

Leather & Lace

Chapter 11 - First Date: Bondage Challenge - Part III

By the White Knight

We hugged and then he took my small hand in his and led me to the bathroom. I visited the bedai first and then joined him in the shower. The big glass stall easily accommodated two people. Thoughtfully, he had kept the water to a luke warm temperature. Even this felt burning hot on my whipped rump. He lathered me with soft liquid soap. Caressing the soap onto my skin rather than simply rubbing it on to me. As the minutes passed he turned up the temperature until the water was pleasantly hot. The warm water and his massaging hands were like magic upon my strained muscles. I leaned back against his strong body as I melted to his touch. Next he shampooed my hair. Slowly, deliciously he ran his fingers through my long hair. Gently separating the few tangles he found. I was in seventh heaven.

Afterwards he dried me with more of the huge fluffy towels. When he was also dry he led me into the living room. Greg smiled and pointed to white box sitting on the desk. 'I purchased a present while I was out', he said. He looked at me and saw my hesitation, 'Go ahead open it. I promise that it won't bite.'

I love presents, so just like a little girl, I ran to the box and forced it open. I had to push the soft tissue paper out of the way to see what was inside. 'Oh, it's lovely', I crooned as I picked the bright pink teddy with the white ribbon trim from the box. Noticing something below the teddy I looked back into the box. A pair of white nylon stay-up stockings and matching pink isotner slippers! I game him a big hug. 'They are all beautiful. The slippers were especially thoughtful.'

'Yes, I have been meaning to ask you about them', Greg said softly as he picked up the isotoners and looked them over. 'In the short time we've been together I've noticed that you love slippers like these. I know why I like them, but you had these before you met me, so I would like to know why you like them?'

I took them from his hand and slipped them on. Crinkling my feet and watching the material ripple in concert with my milky skin. 'It's like having a warm silky hug with each step. Sort of like walking barefoot, but better, as your feet are cushioned by the padded insole. Oh, and the way that they mold themselves to my feet and make me feel... surrounded... secure. Yes, that's it they give me a feeling like a kids security blanket!' I sighed softly and gave a shrug, 'But, mostly they just make me feel good!'

My expression changed and I again looked up at him. 'I am little confused though, where could you possibly have gotten them from at this time of night?' I asked perplexed. It was after nine o'clock and I was sure that all of the shops in the area were closed.

'It's amazing what doors will be opened for the son of the man that employees twenty percent of a towns population', he replied rather smugly. 'They have a small lingerie store right here in the hotel. I persuaded the manager to allow me access.., 'just this one time' as he said. Then to make sure that I retained his goodwill I left him with a hundred dollar bill to pay for these items.'

I nodded my head. 'Very impressive. Thank you very much I love them, but what do we need them for? You can bind me up naked as a jay bird and have access to any part of me that you want... so just as you were wondering about my footwear fetish , I am wondering about this?'

His gaze upon me bordered on angelic. 'Ah, another of my passions... lingerie. You see dearest one, regardless of how absolutely beautiful your unclad body is, when you are graced with sensuous lingerie, you become a goddess. It is like wearing a string of pearls to highlight your lovely neck or diamond stud earrings to show off your sensuous lobes. To me lingerie is the icing on a delicious pastry.' He concluded his statement in an almost professorial tone.

'Will wonders never cease', I replied. 'A man exists that just doesn't want to rip off his woman's clothes, but actually want her to put some on!' I shook my head. 'I am definitely starting to believe in this pre-designation theory of yours', I told him. 'I adore the thought of getting ready for my lover. Putting on sexy lingerie has always been part of my fantasy preparation when I do so. Sliding on those sexy items and thinking of my lover reacting to me in them, well it makes me feel... hot!' I giggled out the word hot. Then, frowning, I said, 'Old what-his-name wouldn't care if I came to bed in old rags as long as he got his before he fell off to sleep.'

'Oh, you'll never have to worry about that with me, baby', Greg said with a smile. 'In fact I hope you don't mind, but it's very likely that I will be buying you many presents like this one. I realize that it's actually buying myself a present, but when I see something sexy and I imagine you in it... well, I just have to get it for you.' He looked downright bashful as he admitted this to me. I hugged him again and said, 'I'll wear anything you want me to wear, master. But don't be so sure about you being the only one to enjoy the present! Personally, I am betting that I will enjoy them the most because just the thought of getting you excited sends shivers straight to my sex!'

This led to more kissing and caressing, but with my hands free Greg had to break things up much earlier than last time. 'Aaa, Aaa, Aaaaaa', he said to me shaking his finger. I promised you three exciting bondages for the evening and if you keep me going like this we will never get to the third! Pointing to my new presents he commanded me, 'Now go get dressed and I will prepare for your final event.' I picked up my gifts and began to comply. As he left the room I called after him, 'All right, master. But, the way I'm counting you're already up two to nothing, so I can't wait to see what you have lined up for the finale!'

He chuckled and responded, 'Two out of three ain't bad, but I will only settle for a clean sweep, Princess.'

I stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror as I dried my hair with the built in blow dryer. Taking a few extra minutes I reapplied my make-up and added a few drops of perfume. Reaching for my new treasures, I decided to begin with the stockings. They were exquisite! Made of silk with sexy seems running up the back. Unrolling them up my leg was a warm sensuous task. I luxuriated in the feel of the smooth mesh sliding up my limbs, but I was surprised by how far they went up my thigh. The pretty elasticized lace at their tops ended only inches from my crotch, where it dug tightly into the fleshy part of my thighs. I tested them by squatting, flexing my leg and flexing my feet, but they held their place admirably. Impressive, these babies weren't going anywhere without help!

Picking up the teddy, I marveled at the feel of the soft fabric. I had been fooled into thinking that it was a standard nylon make, but now I could feel that it was also made of a finely woven silk. I slipped the garment over my head as I shimmied into the skintight negligee. It was only when it rolled over my walloped rump that I began to remember the ache in my buttocks. The fire, thank god, was all but extinguished. Going over my rear turned out fine, but it was the snapping of the crotch flap shut that proved to be extremely.... challenging! There were five little hooks that held the two halves of the teddy's panties together. Attaching them meant pulling the soft material tight over my still inflamed vagina. I literally had to grit my teeth, to handle the pain of closing the pink nighties crotch. Once closed though, the ache settled down to a steady warm throbbing. I decided to slip on the isotoners while standing. The thought of sitting down to do so, just wasn't all that appealing. Taking a final look in the mirror, I made a few adjustments to my make up and hair. I smiled at myself. The shinny pink body suit fit like a glove, it was as skin tight as any spandex that I had ever worn. This of course made sense because Greg had brought a size 'small'.

Now fortunately, I am not a large woman, but I probably would have selected a medium. This was mainly due to my height that caused the tightness of the teddy's crotch, but also because of the tight fit over my breasts. The heart shaped opening and the smaller sized cups left little of my mammary mounds covered. Even the tips of my nipples popped above the sheer pink silk to peer through the lace fringe. In spite of all this, I had to admit, I made a truly sexy sight!

'Ready or not here I come, oh master of mine', I called as I strode through the door and down the short hall. He stood in the center of the living room, arms folded across his chest and a large smile framing his face. I modeled his purchases for him. Hands on hips, I thrusts my breasts forward and gave him a piercing gaze. A half-turn to present my profile, after a few seconds I flexed my leg at the knee and my arched my foot like a ballet dancer to show off the sexy pink slipper. Turning my face directly towards him I gave him a seductive look and blew him a kiss. Another half turn presented him with a full view of my rear.

I rubbed my hands sensuously over my cheeks, reminding him of our last exciting encounter. Then returning to face forward, I gave him a petite curtsey and asked, 'Where would you like me now master?'

Still smiling he pointed over toward the couch. Lying on its back before it was what looked like a piano seat. It had been turned upside down and all four of the intricately carved wooden legs were pointing up into the air. I walked over to it, but I wasn't sure how to proceed. Was I to sit in it or next to it? Lie in it? Greg saw my questioning glance and explained, 'You knell over it, my dear.' OK, no problem, I thought to myself. I knelt behind one of the set of legs and then bending my body at the middle let my hands come to rest on either side of the other set of legs. Now I could see why the bench was upside down. My thighs were pressed tightly against the two rear legs and the two front legs surrounded my back just behind my shoulders. If the seat had been upright, I would never have been able to kneel over it. Greg really was ingenious about these things.

With no words passing between us, my master / lover set to work. Using a couple of the terry strips on each arm he 'laced' it against the appropriate leg. That is to say that he wound and tied the strips so expertly that it looked like spirals of crossing laces riding up my arms. My legs were a little more difficult and he ended up having me spread my knees even wider apart. Each knee was bound tightly to the leg as close as possible to the base. He used more strips to entwine my legs upwards to the top of my thighs. The smooth wood felt cool against my white stocking sheathed gams. I pushed and pulled against my bonds, but found no give in them. Lastly he pulled my ankles together and bound them side-by-side. Once again I was bound totally helpless and immobilized before my master.

'How does that feel', asked Greg from behind me.

'Fine', I answered simply.

'Any discomfort in kneeling?' he questioned me further.

'No. No, I'm perfectly fine', I replied sincerely. This was true as the thick rug performed like a soothing cushion.

I felt his fingers working at the fastenings at my crotch. I bit my lip rather than cry out as he undid the snaps one by one. Breathing a sigh of relief, I felt him push the silk from my rear up onto my back. Looking over my shoulder I saw him pouring lotion onto his hands. In seconds I could feel his warm delicious hands massaging my abused rump once again. Oh, God it felt so wonderful! Again and again he kneaded my flesh rubbing the soothing liquid into my still hot rear.

I moaned contentedly as he poured more of the cooling lotion onto my buttocks. His hands spread my cheeks, to get at the liquid that had pooled in my crack. I jumped a bit in my bonds. 'Ow', I complained. 'Hmmmm.... master what are you....DOOOOINNNNG back there?' I asked. The question was basically already answered as he had shoved a finger deep into my little rear hole, while I spoke.

'I'm getting you ready to be fucked in your cute little ass', he answered with a happy lilt in his voice. He continued to ream my hole and rubbed more of the slippery lotion against my puckered anus. 'OOOOhhhhhhh', I cried out as again one of his fingers invaded me.

'Hmmm... master, I've never had sex that way before. Do you think that it will be all right?' I asked him carefully.

'You've worn a butt plug a number of times', he replied distractedly as he continued to concentrate on lubing me up. 'I'm sure it will be fine.' Sure. Sure. I thought to myself. That plug was only four inches long and I had to push it in by leaning against a dresser!

'Master', I tried again. 'I'm really... really tight back there and hmmm.....'

Before I could finish my thought to try and keep him out of my ass, he piped up with, 'Yes. Yes. Good point!' He knee walked over so that he was now in front of me. Greg was naked and semi-erect as he knelt before me. 'Yes, you'll have to get me good and hard so that I can make it past your tight rear doorway', he said as he circled his member with one hand and held it up towards my lips.

'Let me get this clear', I said pulling backwards against my bonds. 'You want me to blow you, so that you'll be hard enough to screw my asshole... hmmm, my Lord?'

'That's exactly right', he replied nonchalantly. Relenting a little as he noticed my look of total disbelief, he continued more softly, 'Look, honey, just try it. You can't know if you like it or not until you've tried it.'

I shook my head in an exasperated negative motion. 'Sharon, would you have ever asked to be bound helplessly underneath a sheet, while a waiter pours champagne not three feet away? Or would you have asked to have you pussy spanked before I made love to you?' He chided me gently. Meeting his eyes, I shook my head no. 'And did both of those encounters turn out alright?' he questioned me. I gave him a more determined nod of my head to reply 'yes'. 'So what do you say, babe?' he asked softly.

His eyes beamed love at me and I knew then that I could deny him nothing. 'You're the master, my Lord', I replied as I shook my head. 'But, please be gentle master, OK?'

His smile broadened and he answered with a jaunty 'of course my dear'. For the second time that night his member found its way between my pursed lips. This time, however, the job before me was much more difficult. For one thing I didn't have use of my hands and had to depend, almost entirely on my master as to where and how he wanted me to take him. Secondly, he was far from hard.... flaccid even, so it was difficult to keep him in my mouth once I got him there. Finally, he had already climaxed twice this evening, which was the max old-what's his name was ever able to cum in one night, so I really had my job laid out for me.

Greg began to speak as I licked, nibbled and sucked on his manhood. 'I love looking at your ass while your blowing me. Those lovely cheeks of yours are still a very light shade of pink hmmm... it makes them look so warm and inviting.' He shivered in pleasure and said, `Oh boy that was a particularly satisfying suck you just gave me. You must be happy with my praise. I can tell because you're flexing your feet in your slippers. I can see why you like them. It's very sexy watching the pink nylon play against the white silk.' His musings seemed to be having a stimulating effect on both of us. His rod was hardening much faster than I would have believed possible and my pussy was actually getting damp! I found it hard to understand, but somehow his sexual interest in me and my body was making me excited. He stopped his long and slow plunges down my throat and pulled out to only let me at the top two inches. I began to suck on him and to nibble around the top of his circumcised head and lick against his sensitive fore skin. Soon I began to notice the taste of salty pre-cum drops. I looked away from his crotch and up towards his face. He was intently looking over my head. 'There she blows', he cried. 'When you just arched your butt your asshole showed itself. God, it excites the hell out of me to think that when I pull out of your mouth, my next stop is going to be your tight little hole.'

'Hmmm, good enough babe', he said softly as he pulled from my encircling lips.

I was scared and excited all at the same time. I know it shouldn't be that bad.... I had used the butt plug, but..... I was still frightened. He knee walked behind me and parted my cheeks with both hands. He rubbed his cock against my slippery crack. I could feel his head press up against my nether hole. Closing my eyes, I lowered my head and gritted my teeth in preparation for the pain I was sure would follow.

'Hmmmmpphhh', Greg grunted as he pushed against my rear entrance. His liberal use of lotion as a lubricant worked against him this time, as his head slid away from its intended course. After a few failed attempts I decided to try to find out what was going on back there. Straining to look over my shoulder, I was just in time to see him use his hand to guide his manhood forward. Yet still my tight anal muscles, refused to yield him admittance. Not giving up he began to thrust back and forth. Each drive seemed to weaken my puckered rear doors resolve to keep him out.

My body went rigid and I sucked in a deep breath as his efforts finally paid off. 'Ooohhhhh SHIT', I groaned. Only his head was in me but it felt like a burning poker had been shoved into my ass. 'Master....master.... that hurts so much', I gasped breathlessly.

He had completely stopped moving when he had achieved access. 'Sssshhhhh', he said softly. 'Relax. You've got to calm down and relax you sphincter muscles.' He massaged my back and hips and sooner than I would have thought, I got used to having him in there. Slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, my rear end did relax... just slightly. Greg, perhaps sensing this or more likely feeling it began to once again drive forward. I immediately tensed up, but this time he was not deterred. 'Uuuuggggghhh', I grunted softly as he pressed his way into my tight rump. His weight pushed my hips forward and I found I had to really use my arms to keep myself stable.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed backwards against him and with one last huge groan he leaned forward and buried himself to the hilt. 'Oooowwwwww', I moaned as his heavy ball sacks rubbed up against my abused lower lips. He pulled backwards about an inch or two before sliding back in. In and out he went. My teeth were still gritted, but I was able to open squinting eyes. As his strokes became longer he started to talk again. 'Oh, God, it feels so weird and good in your ass, baby. So tight and warm, soft and hot all at the same time. Oh yeah, it's good', he intoned softly. 'Oh Sharon and you just look so hot from back here. Ooooowwwweee, what a site you make. Bound helplessly, your sexy back arching to my thrusts and your face baby.... oh lovely. I know your grimacing in pain, but it's so sexy to see you that way. I feel kind of ashamed to admit it, but when you bite your lip, close your eyes, suck in a deep gasping breath or wince to my thrusts... all of those things excite the heck out of me.'

His words were quickening and so were his painful plunges. Each of his powerful lunges slammed against my bound body. My arms strained to hold me in place as I was pressed helplessly forward against the heavy wood frame of the inverted ottoman. The hard teak groaned in protest, trying desperately to support me. He had, out of necessity, straddled my bound legs giving me but little purchase upon the thick shag carpet. My slipper sheathed toes dug deeply into the heavy wool to gain support, but my position was precarious at best. So, I thought, if he was being excited by my pain racking movements, he must be at fever pitch by now! Despite my best efforts I couldn't relax as he speared me with his hardened rod. Each thrust felt like a knife diving into my innards. The pain was so intense that I thought that I would pass out! My rear muscles were cruelly stretched to accept him and I couldn't find the means to turn the pain to pleasure this time. 'Oh, Lord it hurts so much', I groaned through my clenched teeth.

'Come on baby.... relax', he crooned. His swift strokes paused and then stopped all together. Sliding his hands caressing up from my hips, he caressed his way upwards to my shoulders. His soft touch enfolded me as he began to knead the tight muscles of my shoulders. Warm hands firmly massaged the kinks from my tortured blades. The feel of the soft pink material gliding upon my skin only enhanced the sensation. As my whole body bean to succumb to his ministrations, he once again began to force his was in an out of my nether regions. Just like when he had started he moved forward and backward only one or two inches at a time. His hands wandered lower, until each cupped an aching breast. The tight silk was too small to confine my mammeries and I found him softly rubbing my displaced nipples against the ticklish lace.

'Oh, Lord, that's delicious', I moaned in pleasure. With my body relaxing more and more, I thanked God that I had been led to so many times to the use of my now infamous butt-plug in these recent weeks. His job done he slid his hands back to my hips for better purchase and once again resumed his long... deep impaling strokes.

'That's it honey, work with me.... Ah, God it's so good... Your so wonderful', he breathed heavily. 'I can't believe how exciting it is to watch you whole body tense to me... your beautiful face grimacing in pain at my ravaging of your anus... your fists clenching tightly to fight off the pain...'

His words struck some deep cord within me and all of a sudden everything changed. Somehow I could see myself through his eyes. My beautiful female form displayed for his pleasure. Bound for his excitement and skewered upon his penis. As if someone had turned a switch in me, my abused rear end muscles relaxed. The pain faded and heat grew to a burning pitch deep within my loins! Raising my head up towards the ceiling, my lips formed a perfect 'O' as I howled in closed eyed ecstasy. Without conscious thought I bucked my hips back against Greg, causing him to groan in pleasure. Moving his hands from my hips, his left glided up my back until it met my curled locks. Twisting his fingers into my soft tresses he pulled my head further back like a bare back riding horsemen holding the mane of a horse. His right hand descended upon my heated sex and began to rub gently against my already inflamed flesh.

In my minds eye I saw the picture of how we must look. Him as the bronco riding cowboy and me as his wild mount. 'Arrrrgggggghhhh', I groaned in desire as his fingers passed into my steamy interior. Soon we had matched the timing of our thrusts so that as he rammed deeply into my asshole his fingers flicked hard and quickly against my clit. The feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of my virgin rump, while his fingers played with my puss was incredible! The overwhelming heat between my legs soon removed any of my previous discomfort. As he pulled at my hair forcing me to arch my back further, I cried out, 'God, yes. Screw me hard... ohhhh, so hard.... my Lord.' Then it began. Quickly, like an unexpected rainstorm. His cock jerked mightily in my nether hole as my own orgasm pounded forward. Soon he began to come in me like a hot spurting volcano. 'Aarrrrggghhhhhhhhhh', I cried as my own orgasm took shape. I bucked wildly against my bonds and mashed my body against his seed-spilling monster. Again and again we rocked together like elementals joined in a fiery embrace. It seemed like forever and yet again to short a time, when finally his cock emptied itself and my waves of passion ebbed. I slumped forward against the tops of the chairs legs. To spent to worry further about any discomfort. As his own desires receded his manhood softened quickly. Greg's cum formed a thick milky enema, which worked to slide his deflating member from my abused rose bud.

With a last cry of utter fulfillment he sagged down upon my fettered form. His warm body enfolding my own. 'Oh my God that was incredible', he groaned in exhaustion.

Slowly as I regained my senses, I replied happily, ' Yes my Lord.... it definitely was.'

When he regained his vigor, he quickly removed my bonds. We showered together once again, but this time our desire had passed and we only wished to cleanse ourselves. Naked we slid beneath the covers of our warm bed and huddled together in happy fulfillment. Soon we began to talk, in remembrance of what had passed between us. I had to agree with him, hands down, that he had won our little bet. Taking one of his fingers into my mouth, I assured him that I would happily uphold my end of the bargain. With an excited shudder he thanked me 'from the tip of his fingers to the base of his penis'.

Greg also thanked me for such a fantastic time and to show his appreciation, he granted me my 'one time, I get to make the decision for us wish'. We talked and laughed well into the night, finally falling asleep as we cuddled upon the bed.

Leather & Lace, Co.

Chapter 12 - Realization and Acceptance

By the White Knight

I woke that morning to an insistent nibbling at my ear. I happily growled my way away from his lips and into Greg's waiting arms. I could feel my soreness as we started, but my desire overwhelmed me. My Evil Lord and master, rather than be gentle to my two abused lower orifices, caressed and rubbed against them rather ardently. Even to the point of pushing one of his fingers through my aching rosebud entrance. Rather than turning me off however, I found his caresses to be an unbelievable stimulant. It was truly incredible, but it was as if once I had passed the initial pain point that the pleasure was twice as great.

Unfortunately for Greg I wasn't bound this time, for without something to hold me back he couldn't stop me as I pushed him onto his back and mounted his hardened rod! It didn't take either of us long to come, as the fever pitch excitement of the night before carried over into our early morning lovemaking. With a heavy groan I arched my body backwards as my orgasm over took me. Greg groaned loudly soon after and began pumping his seed into my steaming sex. It may have been a quickie, but it was also a definite goodie!

It was a bright sunny day as viewed threw our wide picture windows. We put back on our clothes from yesterday and did our best to make them look presentable. After a leisurely breakfast we headed back to the Thatcher's "A" frame. We arrived to find the house empty, with a note left on the kitchen table asking me to lock up when I left. I looked at Greg and he looked back at me. We beamed excited smiles at one another. The whole house at our disposal for the entire day! Not to mention it was stocked with a host of Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher's favorite toys! God life can really be good sometimes.

"What do you feel like doing", I asked my lover.

"Oh, I know what I would like to do", he answered. "But, wouldn't you feel a little better if we took a break? Sharon, you've got to be a bit sore and I actually have another idea which is almost as exciting." I frowned at first, but taking a quick inventory of all of my aches and pains revealed the wisdom of his words. Besides my curiosity was aroused. What could be as exciting as bondage and lovemaking?

"And just what did you have in mind as an alternative", I asked him with a smirk.

"Shopping", he stated evenly.

"Shopping?" I repeated in disbelief. What could he ever be thinking of? How could shopping be as exciting as sex?

"Yes", he replied. "I'll bet that you didn't know that there is a Leather and Lace store in town." I shook my head in the negative and began to smile knowingly at his suggestion. "Also, we could stop by Dad's company and pick up a few useful items. And as a further inducement dear lady, you should know that their line of products extends into a host of leather items such as skirts and pants."

I laughed, "And you keep saying that I'm to good to be true! What about you! I was thinking about lingerie shopping before I fell asleep last night. With the way that you feel about it, I felt it was high time that I visited my company store!" I gave him one of my sexy smiles and breathed softly, "Did you know that I have special employee discounts?"

He laughed and replied craftily, "Did you know that I'm an employee now and I've have a credit line also? And did you consider that I have "family" discounts when it comes to anything Stanton Enterprises makes?" As he watched my smile grow he added softly, "Later, I thought we might pick up a few papers and start looking for some real-estate. I'm not saying that we should buy around here, but I thought it would be fun to start sorting out our idea's on what type of place we want share."

We fell together in a happy embrace. Then I went off to my room to change for the day while he made a few calls on his cell phone. I quickly stripped and realized that I would have to retrieve my underwear from his glove compartment. I put on a matching bra and panty set of white lace. Followed by a button down sleeveless pale yellow shirt and white hip hugging shorts. Lastly I donned my favorite "going out" sneakers. These sneakers were lousy for aerobics, but there sleek lines made them as sexy as this type of shoe could ever look.

As I was walking back to meet Greg, a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. It was Sunday; the stores wouldn't be open. Greg was just closing his cell as I sprang this little piece of dismal news on him. He smiled and rested his hands gently on my shoulders, "And just whom did you think that I was calling a minute ago?" I gave him a confused look. "I have just completed arrangements for us to pick up the key to the Leather and Lace store in town and made sure that security out at Dad's place was expecting us." He smiled and gave me a kiss. "Always thinking, that's me."

It was a beautiful day so we rode to the store with the windows and sunroof open. We picked up the key and then drove over to the store. Upon arriving, we both self-consciously looked about like burglars before entering. Once the door was locked behind us the fun began. We were like two kids let loose in a toy store. Walking through the store we pointed out things that interested us to each other. In minutes we had gone from the front of the store to the back.

"Oh, this is great", I said happily. "Now that we've got an idea of where everything is located where do you want to start?"

"The peignoir sets and night gowns", he replied immediately.

"Really?" I asked with a voice and look that required an answer. Heck, I expected him to say something like Baby Dolls, Teddies, or something overtly sexy.

"Yes", he replied. "I like to think of them as sexy lounge wear. For those times that often precede sex where these purely feminine gowns could be used as a reminder of all of your many charms. I may not tie you up in, but they really are classy and you my dear are one classy lady."

"Well thank you, sir", I said with a small curtsey. "Peignoir sets it is and may I just say that you constantly amaze me."

"I hope that I always do, Princess", he smiled in reply.

We picked out some beautiful gowns in an assortment of colors and styles. Shortly after going into the changing room Greg appeared with an armful of shoeboxes. Each box contained a pair of satin mules with tufts of marabou feathers in a different color. "Try these on, I think that you'll like them", he said. I had seen these high-heeled slippers in the catalog and thought that they looked sexy, now I was getting the chance to play with them! "Oh and don't forget these" he said as he handed me a package of sheer white stockings. I looked at him questioningly, so he smiled and explained his request.

"Personally, I believe that women should wear stockings with every outfit. Even a woman, such as you, who has a heck of a great pair of legs, can't go wrong with a sexy pair of stockings. Also, they add another level of contrast to a women's clothing and enhance her looks. For example, sheer black stocking clad legs flowing into black patent leather high-heels forms a magnificent piece of art versus the same creamy white leg poured in the black heels." As I looked down at my own naked legs I began to wonder if he was commenting on my own outfit. Sensing my change in mood he continued "However, there are times when stockings simply would not be appropriate or where they simply would not improve your overall appearance. The beach for example would be an inappropriate place to wear stockings. Also, I've got to say that your current outfit is perfect just the way it is. Those tanned legs of yours emerging from those perfectly fitting bright white short shorts and those very feminine white sneakers, makes for one heck of a nice picture."

I beamed at his compliments but still I had to ask, "If you like to see women in stockings are you sure that you wouldn't want to see me in stockings or pantyhose, even in this outfit?"

"Oh, I guess there would be times that I would", he responded thoughtfully. "Say if we were going to be playing out a bondage scenario. Then I would like you to be wearing stockings. And seeing as I wouldn't want you to take off those hot pants, I'd say that pantyhose were a better choice."

"I think I'm getting the drift of what you're saying", I said thoughtfully. "But, you keep talking about enhancing or improving what I'm wearing and how I look and it almost sounds like you're trying to achieve a certain look. You know honey it would help me a lot if you could put that into words so I can do my part, which..." I continued with a sassy smile "is mainly to please you."

Greg chuckled. "You know I think I been a director for too long. I've gotten used to people understanding my partial speak, because they were already on the same page." He leaned casually against the doorframe, taking on the tone of a collegiate professor. "I'm not into bondage because I wish to cause pain, it maybe a sexy by-product of the event but it is not my main goal. My goal is to create a piece of art, a living piece of art, where I am the artist and you my dear are the canvas. That, in essence, will become part of our foreplay." He straightened and became more animated. "Each bondage scenario that I set out for you in the future will always place you at the center of the picture or tabloid that I am trying to create. And I truly believe that your beauty and vivaciousness will allow us to create one bondage masterpiece after another". He smiled roguishly and added, "Of course our type of artwork does have one very significant advantage over the more traditional type.' He gave me a wink as he finished, `How often do you think that Van Gogh and his paintings had great sex together?'

We both laughed. Once I nodded my head in understanding, Greg turned and left me to change. Stripping down to my panties, I removed the stockings from their packaging and expertly rolled one. The sheer nylon flowed up my calf, over my knee and onto my thigh until it ended in a lacy elasticized top. Its mate was soon caressing my opposite leg. Finished with this, I slipped into a silk ivory gown that fit like a sheath to just above my knees. Here it flared out slightly before reaching the floor. I put on the gauzy nearly transparent robe and then searched for the appropriate pair of slippers. Sure enough there was a pair in Ivory. I slid these on and strode sexily from the room to model this creation for my lover.

Greg was right this was a classy outfit so as a walked towards him I adopted the attitude of a fashion model gliding down the runway. At the end of my imaginary run way I posed for him in a number of positions and then turned for my walk back to the changing room. The one thing that I did differently then those models I had seen on television was smile. Heck this wasn't work and he made me feel warm as I watched him watching me ever so intently. His gaze was nearly magnetic and I wanted so very much to please him. Flipping the hem of my gown with a flick of my leg, I gave him a good view of the ivory mules that he had picked out for me.

As I walked away I heard Greg applaud my performance. I turned before I left the room, leaning seductively against the doorway with a huge come hither smile. "You may have noticed Sir that this gown has an air of bondage in its own right."

He looked at me quizzically.

I laughed and then walked a bit for him again. Pointing to the length of my strides. Smiling I told him that the tightness of the gown at the knees, kept me to short steps and would definitely keep me from running.

"Princess", he said warmly. "You are the best. I only wish I had a camera so I could do your modeling justice." Then his face brightened as the proverbial light bulb went off over his head. He jumped up and said, "Don't move baby, I'll be right back". He ran out of the store, leaving me wondering what the heck was going on. Minutes later he returned holding high a camera case. "Baby, are you game", he asked as he moved towards me. I smiled and nodded.

"Oh, honey, I love it", I laughed. "And as for being game, I am going to do my best to prove to you that I am the best game in town!" Taking me in his arms we kissed deeply and passionately, until I could feel the heat building in my loins. Pushing him gently away, I stated the obvious, "If we keep doing this we are never going to get any shopping done."

He stepped back with a laugh and replied, `Yes, indeed. Star photographer Greg Stanton reporting for duty!' Greg moved back to his previous position and then had me model the gown again as he snapped his pictures. This went on with the next four flowing gowns, with small variations added to the same performance each time. The gown I had held to last was a rich ruby red. The top of the gown was crafted much like an Elizabethan gown with tight elasticized stitching gathering the material from belly button to breast. My breasts were cupped in supporting material and pushed towards each other and upwards with a cunning use of more of the elasticized stitching. The neckline was cut square showing off a healthy amount of breast and cleavage. Where the gown totally deviated from it Elizabethan counterpart was in the slits up both sides. This was much like the dress that I had worn at the company party hosted by Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Stanton. To say that I loved that style of gown was much too mild a phrase.

Sliding into the matching red slippers, I strutted sexily from the room. Stopping twice during my "runway" walk I posed, each time showing off my right or left leg nearly to hip. Toes pointed, puffy feathers gracing the high-heeled satin mule, tanned thighs flowing into the gleaming white stocking against the background of the rich red gown. I gave him my best seductive looks as my chest rose and fell to my fevered breathing.

"Princess", Greg said softly. "You are absolutely gorgeous!" As I stood before him and posed, and he continued, "God, you are so hot its just incredible!" He stopped clicking pictures, so I took the opportunity to slide onto his upraised knee. His hand moved quickly to my chest as our mouths met. Slowly, gently, we mutually broke our embrace.

"I think that one is a definite keeper, how about you?" he asked.

Standing now, I bent over at the middle so that my chest was almost pressed into his face. I shook my upper body causing my full breasts to jiggle in their tight confines. "Oh yes", I replied boldly, "a definite keeper".

"Amen", he agreed.

We both laughed and then headed over to the next section of the store that displayed bras, garter belts and stockings. I already had a number of these sets at home, but after finding out about his desire to see me in stockings on an almost constant basis it seemed that this was a good opportunity to increase my collection. Once I had tried on each of the dozen or so different sets, I settled on three of types. Greg proved very useful, by helping me find each of the types in every one of the offered colors! To top things off he also produced strapless color matched bra's, to match each of the sets. By the end of our little spree, I had about three dozen new brassieres, half as many garter belts and two pairs of stockings for each set. I couldn't even begin to comprehend how long it would take before I wore each of the outfits.

Moving on to teddies and hip length gowns, I found that he had a true affinity for sexy little gowns often referred to as baby dolls. This also forced me to return back to the stocking section in order to match the mini gowns with stay up stockings. In a few cases he even encourage me to replace the gowns panties with one of the garter and panty sets, adding an entirely different look to the piece of lingerie. I had to admit that there was something innately exciting about seeing the taut suspenders poke out from beneath the sexy satin or silk gown, clasping tightly to the lace tops of the sheer hose. Hmmm, it gave me a deep down warm feeling as I watched his eyes devour me, with the whirl of the camera advancing recording his desires.

I think the best of the lot were the two Grecian style mini-gowns. Both had wide sashes about the middle with slightly flared skirts that barely covered my crotch. The one we picked out in shinning silver boasted a deep-throated top, while its virgin white mate left one shoulder bared.

Teddies, camisoles with tap pant bottom sets, bustiers, a few simple hip length chemise gowns and low-back slips were added to our selection. However, it was starting to get late in the morning and I only tried on a few of these offerings.

By the end of the morning we had racked up an unbelievable amount of lingerie, which Greg insisted that we wrap in boxes that we found behind the sales counter. "Yes, I know that we don't have to wrap them", he responded to my question. "But, think of how much fun it will be to unwrap each one of these beauties. Opening the box, peeling aside the gauzy pink paper and finally revealing the sexy item. Then you can think about the fun that we had selecting them and experience the day all over again." He made it sound like Christmas and thinking it over it really did sound like fun. But who would have ever thought of this kind of thinking from a man? Again my questioning stare led him to explain himself. A little sheepishly he added, "That's how Cassie explained it to me, when she described shopping with Dad."

I entered all of our purchases into the computer as I had been taught to do, using Greg's ID. I was greatly surprised when I realized that the total came to nearly $2000! Greg saw my shocked gaze and shrugged his shoulders and smiled. I printed out the invoice and left it on the counter so that the people who ran the store would know that their inventory had been severely reduced. Greg dropped two one hundred dollar bills onto the top of the invoice and added a yellow sticky with the caption "commission". I looked at the money with an unspoken question in my eyes. "Always keep the employees happy", he said by way of explanation. I smiled and we left for a quick lunch.

Our visit to Stanton Enterprises was nearly as time consuming as our morning adventures. First we started in the clothing side of the business, where I picked up a cute leather mini-skirt, a halter top and a soft pair pants all in black leather. Greg added to this by selecting the some of same items in a fawn colored suede material.

He then steered me past the shoe area, much to my chagrin as I love shoe shopping. He mollified me by explaining that he had a real fetish for female footwear and that we couldn't give shoes the time they deserved in our compressed schedule. Beside, his dad had already provided me with three pairs that would make a great start for our collection. After the lingerie shopping I could just now begin to imagine how large that collection would need to be to satisfy his desires!

Moving into the bondage gear section Greg moved like a man with a purpose. He instinctively knew exactly what he wanted and exactly where to find it. I ended up following him around with a dolly that he did an admirable job of filling. A white arm binder that zipped up the back, a black one that was laced, a set of connected straps, which was called the "web" but I wasn't totally sure what it did. Then there was the host of straps and spreader bars. Cuffs for wrists, ankles and thighs. Most of the cuffs appeared to be lined with soft leather, some had only one buckle and others had dual buckles. The amount of different types of cuffs he picked out simply amazed me.

The collars that he picked out caused an unexpected shiver to race through my body. I had seen the pictures in our catalog, but the thought of putting on a collar would truly mark me as his slave. I wrapped my arms around myself as he placed thick black leather one on the cart that was labeled a 'posture collar'. His other selections had been thinner and in some cases made of softer different colored leather. They were scary, but not nearly as devious as the thick posture collar. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

I guess I missed my cue to move the dolly to the next set up hardware, which caused Greg to look over at me. "Are you alright", he asked with true concern in his voice.

"Yes... Yes, I am", I answered hesitantly. "It's just that I hadn't really thought about a collar being put about my throat. You know what I mean. Its such a blatant display of ownership... of me being a slave... of... of..."

My voice trailed off and he finished my thought. "Of submission. It's your visual proof of total submission to me."

"Yes", I replied quietly.

Greg seemed to want to shake me out of my maudlin funk. He smiled and beat his hands upon his chest like Tarzan. "Me master. You slave." He said in an imitation of the ape-man's voice. His little act did the trick and earned him a smile. I suppose he noticed my eyes stray apprehensively over to the thick collar. "Oh, the posture collar bothers you?" I nodded my head 'yes'. "Well Princess, the only way to get over being afraid of something is to experience it first hand, so why not put it on now?" Without waiting for a reply from me he picked up the offensive item and made a circular motion with his hand, meaning that I should turn around. I knew that my fear was irrational, but it was still just as real. I screwed up my courage by reminding myself how much pleasure I had already received by being the submissive in our new partnership. Still I closed my eyes as I turned my back to him.

I felt the collar slide about my neck. As he adjusted it, which meant matching up the scalloped indentations on the right and left side of the collar with my shoulders, it began to nudge the underside of my neck. Once in place, Greg began tightening the buckles at the rear of my neck. With each pull of the straps the pressure of the thick leather beneath my chin forced my head upward.

Finished with his work Greg stood back and asked, "How's that?" I wasn't truly in any pain. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but not terribly so. In fact the way that it forced me to keep my head up, reminded me very much of the corset that I had recently worn. That too had forced me to maintain my posture. "It's not so bad" I finally replied.

"Good. Good", Greg said as he gave me a sly wink. "Because, I just had a thought." Oh boy, I said to myself as I wondered what he had in mind behind that mischievous smile of his. "We have all this great stuff here and after putting you in that collar I was just thinking that it would be great if you modeled some of it."

I had gotten used to the collar and now I also started thinking about the fact that Greg was leaving soon for a whole week. A whole week in which I would once again be flying solo. I had not really thought about this before, but now that I had the thought of being alone for so long with no one to play with, really made me want to have at least one more bondage experience. "OK, big guy. But, this collar is going to keep me from putting anything on myself so it's all up to you. Knock yourself out!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, doll face" he answered with a smile. As he knelt down before me I realized that I couldn't look down to see what he was doing. Well, that's not exactly true. I could bend at my middle and lean over so I could see him in my peripheral vision, but I couldn't look down by simply bending my neck. The collar had effectively eliminated that possibility. I felt a cuff placed about my right ankle that was quickly tightened as it was buckled closed. My left ankle faired the same only minutes later. I winced in pain as I tried to look down at whatever was touching my thigh. I hadn't expected to be touched there and without thinking I had tried to look. I now realized that this was a big mistake, after that black leather monstrosity about my neck gave me a nasty pinch.

"You've got to remember to always keep your head up when you are wearing a posture collar princess", he reminded me unnecessarily as he began attaching restraints to my upper thighs. I was already becoming wise enough to hold my tongue. I'm sure that a sarcastic 'now you tell me' would earn some type of punishment, so I just bit my lip. After he had applied my leg restraints he stood up and held up our new white leather arm binder sleeve, so that I could see it. Meekly I put my arms behind my back with my steepled fingers pointing towards the floor. Greg pulled the sleeve around my hands and then slid the soft leather under my arms. As he placed the straps over my shoulders he whispered in my ear, "My, my you are a fast learner." I'm sure that I blushed, but I couldn't help from smiling. Zipping up the sleeve was like trying to zip up pants that are just too tight. Greg however didn't relent in his task until after he nudged the zipper a few inches above my elbows. It was then I felt another strap begin pulling my upper arms closer and closer together.

"This model has its' own built in tightening strap", he informed me. "It's too bad that you can't see back here because it really is a beautiful piece. The grommets and buckles are gold plated, which really looks great on the white leather. Not to mention what it's doing to your chest, heck it looks like you've gained two inches and I haven't even closed the zipper." Shortly, I heard the zipper snick home. I stretched against my arm bindings in a half-hearted attempt to relieve the ungodly strain on my shoulder and back muscles. As I suspected however, my efforts proved totally useless.

Snap. Snap. I could see the flash from the corner of my eye as Greg started to take a few pictures. As he moved around in front of me, I gave him my best smile in spite of my strained arms. "I have a request, master."

"And what would that be princess", he said as he stopped clicking pictures.

"I would like to be the keeper of our photo albums. And with the pictures were taking today I can see that they are going to be very interesting ones." I answered. "It's truly one of my passions. I love to put together an album after a vacation or trip and I work hard to try and have the pictures tell a story. I can't imagine what our chronicles will look like in a year, but I'm getting the distinct impression that they are going to tell a very interesting tale indeed!'

"Princess you continue to amaze me", he said with a happy smile on his face. "Your request my dear is graciously granted. You have now been appointed the recorder of our family's history. In fact I'll give you all the film that I shot today and hopefully by next week, when I return, you can show me our first album." "It would be a pleasure..." I started. But, it was at this moment that one of his words registered in my mind. "Family's?" I questioned him.

While I was in this shocked mood, he chuckled and had me kneel down on the dolly. I knelt there with my rear resting on my heels as he pulled upon each of restraints. It was only when I tried to reseat myself a little more comfortably that I realized that I could hardly move my legs at all. "You've locked my ankles to my thighs." I stated as I began to realize what had happened.

"Yes, princess, the position is called a 'frog tie'", he explained. "And I must say that you look positively radiant with your tight little butt resting upon your sexy little sneakers. Not to mention how well your white shorts and sneakers match with the sleeve. Even the gold buckles match nicely with your deep yellow shirt." He continued his running commentary as he began snapping more pictures. "The black leather posture collar and restraints, don't work with the whole flow of the picture however. I think that we should go back and get some in white leather." With that he began pushing me and the dolly down the aisle. I couldn't help but think that I must look like a one of those figureheads that they used to place for good luck below an old time sailing ships bowsprit. You know the type, with the women's out thrust breasts and forward looking gaze seeming to lead the ship onward.

I had almost believed that he had forgotten my question, when he decided to respond to me. As he began placing some white and red restraints onto the dolly, he said, "Yes, OUR family's. I realize that there are only two of us just yet and I'm not looking to increase that number in the near future, but yes it will be OUR family's albums."

"Are you asking me to marry you?" I asked softly.

"Princess, I think I've already done that. But, if you are talking about making it official with a ring and all no I'm not." He responded seriously. "Of course when I do ask you I promise it will be a really special event." I couldn't help but smile. He was just so perfect that it made me ache inside.

On we rolled blindfolds and gags came next. Again the variety that he selected, almost without thought, surprised me. I hadn't realized until now that Stanton Enterprises actually produced the gags sold through Leather & Lace, Co. Finally as he seemed to be winding down he picked up what I had now come to learn was a penis gag. But this wasn't your standard two-inch model. No, no, this baby sported a thick phallus at least five inches long! "Whoa, baby... master", I said in a slightly shaking voice. "Do you really expect me to wear that?" I asked.

"Of course", he replied non-pulsed. "It's all a matter of training and experience. We don't have to start with this one, but I think you'll get there quickly enough."

"Greg", I replied from my heart. "I've been tied up and whipped in ways that I never could have imagined only a few weeks ago, but that thing scares me."

"Princess, the collar frightened you too and you got over that", he answered softly. I nodded yes. "So let's prove that you can handle it." He then held the pseudo penis before my face and commanded me to open my mouth. Slowly he thrust in the thick piece of rubber. Thoughtfully, he stopped after the first two inches were in and reminded me to stay calm and to breathe through my nose. It felt very different than a real cock. Harder, colder and it tasted funny. Knowing that it would be easier on me if I took matters into my own hands (figuratively speaking of course). I pushed my head forward and accepted another couple of inches of the thick penis. When it reached the back of my throat and kicked in my gag reflex, I backed off a bit to regain my composure.

Greg realized what I was doing and just held the thick leather base in place as he coached me. "That's it baby", he told me softly. "You're doing great, just a little bit more to go." Taking a deep breath through my nose, I thrust myself forward until I had engulfed the entire pseudo phallus. With the leather base tight against my widely spread lips Greg lifted my hair in order to buckle the attending straps behind my neck.

"Now, baby, just kneel there while I pack up all of this stuff", Greg commanded as he rolled the dolly onward. Of course I didn't have much choice in the matter, so I did as he suggested. While he went about his business I did my best to breathe calmly and stay as relaxed as possible. The collar stopped me from moving my head much, and I found that even the slightest movements would cause the rubber cock to rub against the back of my throat and make me want to gag. Keeping my head as still as possible seemed the only answer.

The dolly and I had been moved over to a computer station in the warehouse. He began using a scan gun to record the UPC's on all of our purchases. It took quite a while to complete the transactions, but finally he retrieved a full print out of our purchases and signed his name at the bottom.

Seemingly hours later Greg returned to my side and asked, "Would you like me to remove your gag now?" God, that was a stupid question. Without moving my head I made a nasally "un-huh" sound. With my mouth and throat full, I found that I could make even less sound than with the ball gags to which I had now become accustomed. Greg smiled, "I'll take that for a yes". In a few seconds the rubber nightmare was sliding out of my aching jaw. It left my mouth with a slurpy sound and glistened in the light with my saliva.

"So how do you feel about that gag? Your honest reactions." He questioned me.

"I didn't like it at all", I replied directly.

"But, you proved you could handle it, correct?" Greg asked.

"Yes", I answered quietly.

"Now, given the choice between wearing that gag for say half-an-hour or blowing me for half-an-hour which would you prefer?" Greg asked with a tilt of his head.

"I'd much rather blow you... my Lord", I replied with a devious smile.

"And that is just how I would use that little item, my dearest slave girl", he replied softly. "I would ask you to blow me for a full half-hour, no easy task as you would have to keep me on the edge of cumming for almost the entire time. If you failed in your task you would face a half-an-hour of our new gag, which I believe would definitely drive you to work very hard to succeed. Don't you?"

I looked up into his eyes and smiled, "Oh, yes Master. That would definitely drive me to try my best. But, what do I get if I succeed?"

"Your master's satisfaction", he replied jauntily. His eyes softened as he added, "Plus my undying love and devotion." He had finished unbinding me as we talked. Helping me to stand, He put his arm about me as we left the building. In my head I thought over his words and smiling to myself, came to the conclusion that I could live with them.

Greg had a flight to catch at 8:00pm back to the coast and I had to drive back to the city that night, so we ended up back at the diner for our dinner. On the way we had stopped at a grocery store and picked up a couple of those house hunter tabloids. We spent our remaining time together, talking about the styles of houses that we liked and where we wanted to live. He was more geared to your standard colonials, while I was more aligned with a Tudor looking home. At the very least, I suggested a split-level over a colonial. He laughed at my assertiveness on the subject, but he also assured me that he would honor my wishes. "A house is not a home, unless the woman of the family makes it one", he explained. "So if you want a Tudor, I'll do my best to find you one that will make you happy." I snuggled into his arms and just enjoyed his warm touch. With that settled we quickly agreed that we would live somewhere close to the Leather and Lace offices, so as to keep our commuting time down.

As the time for his leaving drew near, Greg drove me back to my car. He opened my door for me, but as I moved to step in he barred my way with his strong arms. Quickly he pulled me to him and our lips met in a hungry kiss. A warm hand found its way to my chest as another slid down between my legs. I could feel the cold metal and glass of the car against my back as our passion once again jumped in to high gear. My hips surged to his touch as I could feel the heat burning within me. He soon discerned my desire and began dry humping me as our sexes melded together.

Just as I was about to break our lip lock to beg him to make love to me, he put both hands on my shoulders and separated our bodies. He smiled at me as he worked to steady his breathing. "Always leave them wishing for more, was the first lesson that Cassie taught me as a boy. I wonder if she and your aunt knew each other? Anyhow, it's time for me to go baby".

My sex-clouded mind heard his words, but it took a few moments for them to register. Soon I found myself smiling back at him. "Oh, you are good... very good my lord. I can't wait for your return and you haven't even left yet!"

With a last hug and chaste kiss, he finally helped me into my car. I made the long drive back to my apartment thinking all the way about the huge change in course that my life had taken in such a very short time. From never experiencing bondage to becoming a... slave? A love slave, I said to myself slowly. I liked the sound of that better. The thought of being someone's slave still took a bit of getting used to. On the other hand when I thought of myself as Greg's love slave… goose bumps formed up and down my arms! That was the other big change, Greg. From wishing for my imaginary lover to finding him and then some! Boy it had been some week.

Unpacking the car took awhile because of all of our lingerie purchases. Greg had kept the bondage equipment, but he had given me all of the lingerie before leaving. I left all the boxes in the living room with the exception of one that I brought with me into the bedroom.

After a quick shower, I opened my present. It was a satin low-back slip in hunter green that I had found to be extremely comfortable. Removing my towel I slipped the gown over my head. The tingle from my nipples almost woke me up, but totally exhausted I decided to retire for the evening. With a smile on my face I fell asleep to the realization that there wouldn't be many more nights when I would be sleeping alone.

Leather & Lace, Co.

Chapter 13 - Willing Student

By the White Knight

I woke up in the morning still a little stiff from my previous bondage encounters. Quickly, I began a stretching aerobics workout that helped loosen the kinks. It was during the shower, as I was fantasying about Greg, that I realized that last night was the first night in weeks that I had gone to sleep unbound! I laughed and said out loud to myself, "Not too many more nights that that will be the case girl friend".

After receiving a host of accolades for my performance (in more ways than one) of the last week, work settled down to a more normal pattern. I can never say that it was dull though, especially when I was asked to handle customer calls. The truth be told, that part of my job became one of my favorite pass times. Now with a little more experience under my belt, I felt a lot more confident when giving advice.

I sought out Lucinda that morning and barely blushed when I asked her where I might get some erotic pictures developed. I ended up having to give her a complete run down of the previous day events, and I mean complete, before she gave me a name. Once I received it I could have kicked myself because it was the same photographers that L&L used for their photo shoots! I felt kind of weird having these types of pictures seen by other people, but I think of any other way to get them developed. I dropped off the film at lunch and they promised to have it developed in 24 hours, including a set of digitally mastered pictures put on a CD for free. The next day I retrieved my photos and that night I began putting together Greg and my adventures in a leather-covered album.

On Wednesday, Amy my predecessor called and asked to speak to Mr. Thatcher. Shortly after he burst from his office and shouted out that Amy had a baby boy! Everyone gathered round and we were regaled with all of the specifics. Towards the end of the gathering the three partners put their heads together while Mr. Thatcher spoke to them privately. With nods of the heads they broke up and everyone returned to their respective offices.

Greg had been calling me nightly. Telling me about closing his apartment and how he had gracefully worked out leaving his present job. If all went well, he expected to be on the Red Eye Wednesday evening arriving early Thursday morning. I couldn't wait!

His nightly calls were also a source of long distance intimacy for the two of us. I had never experienced phone sex before, but Greg really made it exciting. After our first phone encounter I found myself more and more anxiously awaiting his phone call. I would sit on my bed naked except for my white terry robe and isotoner slippers, flipping tentatively through a magazine. Greg's first question was always 'what are you wearing tonight' and my throaty reply was 'what would you like me to be wearing tonight, Master'. He would then pick out one of the outfits that we had purchased on our trip to the L&L store. But he wouldn't simply say now put it on, oh no, he would have me slowly and sensuously walk him through every step of applying the sexy piece of lingerie to my body.

"I'd like you to wear your black and gold chemise tonight" he would tell me. You would think that this would be the easiest thing in the world. It's a one-piece slip for heavens sake! But after our first call, I knew to ask "and what do you want me to do first my Lord".

"First I would like you to strip totally naked, and describe exactly what you are doing in detail."

"I'm now standing next to my bed and taking off my white terry robe and placing it on the vanity chair. I've slid off my white slippers and put them on the chair with my robe. I'm just a touch cold and I think I can feel a light draft across my nipples. I am naked as you requested Master, with the exception of a black satin head band which is holding back my hair."

"Good, now take out your black LeMarque set."

This was one of the garter belt, stocking and panties sets that we had purchased. "The set is now lying on the bed."

"Excellent, now put the chemise alongside them."

"Yes, my Lord. I have placed the chemise on the bed."

"Now, put your gold leather slippers with the gown and the set."

"My Lord, I don't own gold leather slippers", I informed him softly. "I do have the gold mules with the marabou feathers, would that be all right?"

"No, the mules will not do. I take it that you don't have gold isotoners either."

"That is correct my Lord."

"OK I'll settle for your black leather slippers, this time. In the future however, you will make sure that you have these types of slippers in a wider array of colors. If you can't find them in the proper colors, buy them in white and have them dyed." In a softer voice he continued, "Those narrow seven and a half b's of yours look so sexy in those tight little slippers. Damn girl you've got me hooked on them now, so you have to make sure that you can deliver them, otherwise I'm like an artist without the right color paints. OK?"

"Oh, yes Master. I understand and I'll see to it tomorrow!"

"Fine, continue."

"Yes, my Lord. I'm now clipping on the black lace garter and centering the little black bow directly above my sex. Oh, the stockings are the beautiful European type that are reinforced from toes to sole and up the heel. It feels wonderful sliding into the silky material. They have seams in the back that I am now making sure are straight. I have to adjust the garter belts because the lacy stocking tops ride very high up my thigh." This would go on with me describing, putting on the French cut underwear. These would go on over the garters of course and not under them. Next I would slide into the chemise and tell him how the lace tickles my nipples and finally, slipping into the black leather slippers.

After having me dress to his taste he would have me bind myself in some simple way, before we would get down to the really good stuff. On that particular day he had me sit in the middle of the bed and use my nylon cuffs to bind my ankles and wrists together in front of me. Fortunately, I could still use my bound hands to hold the phone.

It was at this point once he had me all decked out and tied up that he and I would start playing phone sex games. Once he had me describe giving him fellatio on the way to the restaurant last week, while he reciprocated by describing tying me up at the hotel. Another night he ordered me through each step of my self-bondage routine. It was so much more fun though imaging that the vibrator in my hot cunny was actually his member. I fell asleep with his voice quietly talking to me over the phone as I lay, bound and gagged helplessly upon my bed.

On Wednesday morning the partner's called me into the conference room for a meeting. "As you know Sharon, Amy, has had her child", Mr. Thatcher began. I nodded yes. "What you don't know is that she has decided not to return to work. We've all talked it over and we would like to offer you a position." I started to say yes immediately, until he held up his hand in the stop position. "Now, before you make your decision, I want you to understand all of the facts. We are offering you the position of "Office Manager". That is to say in addition to your secretarial role you will also be tasked with other assignments, such as handling trips like this last one, helping out the copy writers with instructions as it is needed, managing the inventory in the employee product room and of course managing the customer calls that need help or advice. For this we are willing to pay you $60,000 per year. Further, we would also like you to consider some modeling assignments in the future. These are not mandatory, however if you agree you would be paid per shoot just like any of our other models."

At first I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had to fight not to let my jaw drop open in wonderment. "How does this offer strike you, my dear?" Lucinda asked.

I coughed a little and answered, "Very well, thank you." Shyly I told them truthfully, "You know I would almost work here for free, if it wasn't for paying my bills."

"Non-sense, Sharon", Mr. Harrison added. "You're worth every penny. In all of my years I've never seen anyone take to the business as you have." Mr. Thatcher gave a small cough, making Harry laugh. "Alright, with the exception of your wife Michael, but she was never really a full time employee!"

"Just to assuage my curiosity how much does a photo shoot pay", I asked as calmly as possible. I didn't know exactly how yet, but I still wanted to experience the on camera excitement that Sam had told me about.

"It depends if it is a simple one day shoot or if it takes up to a week. But a week long shoot would probably earn you about $5000." Mr. Harrison answered briskly. Five grand for five days work! I giggled at what my parents would say when they found out that I was earning sixty plus thousand a year and it was especially funny to think about telling them how I was earning it! After I had agreed the discussion dissolved into numerous animated conversations and more laughter. The party atmosphere was continued on through an expensive lunch and I spent the rest of the afternoon in a total euphoria.

Towards the end of the day I gathered together my courage and headed for the product room. I moved quickly to the videotape section and picked up "Bondage 101". All week I had been thinking about how little I knew about bondage and how much I really wanted Greg to be happy with me. I thought that watching this video would give me a better understanding as to how I was expected to act and what I may be expected to do. Sliding the tape into a brown paper bag, I couldn't help but notice some of the other tapes. As I was reading the captions on the back of the next two tapes in the series I heard someone coming. Still self-conscious about letting my interest in bondage "out of the closet", I quickly decided to add the films to my bag and make a hasty retreat.

That evening, after my normal evening workout, I treated myself to a long relaxing bubble bath. Greg had told me he wouldn't be able to call to night, so I picked out a baby blue peignoir and my white ballet style slippers. The gown had white ribbon and lace worked in as trim, so the slippers amply complimented the set. Besides, no one would be seeing me tonight and I just wanted to enjoy myself.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, I folded my feet under my rear and turned on the VCR. Bondage 101, proved to be very much what it billed itself as, a tutorial bondage film. It started with both Sam and Mike, dressed in a gown and suit respectively, discussing the importance of trusting your partner. They explained what it meant to be the "top" or dominant partner in a relationship or the "bottom" submissive part of the team. Sam expounded upon this point, by adding that while the bottom must be submissive, this did not mean that this person did not have any control over the situation. "The bottom is always given an 'out' generally this is in the form of a 'safe' word. This word or phrase such as "Mercy master" would lead to whatever was currently happening to be stopped immediately. If the bottom is gagged she, or he, will generally be given something to hold onto, such as a ball. Dropping the ball would have the same effect as using the 'safe' word.

Michael took over the discussion by saying "And why you may ask do we need a 'safe-word'? Well, generally speaking, bondage isn't the be-all and end-all of your relationship. Most people like to bring role-playing into their bondage encounters. Common themes are kidnappings, naughty maid, punishing your mean boss or tying up your sexy secretary. Of course the most common theme of them all is that of master and slave. Mr. Thatcher reached out his hand, which Mrs. Thatcher willing grasped. "Darling I believe with that introduction that it is time to adjourn to the bedroom."

The couple walked out the living room hand in hand, Sam wearing the floor length gold gown, with Michael clad in a fashionable gray serge suit. As they walked through the door of the bedroom their clothing changed as if by magic. Mr. Thatcher's gray suit changed to a dark blazer and slacks outfit with a white turtleneck sweater, while Mrs. Thatcher's gown turned into a black leather corset, sheer black stockings and six-inch patent leather spike heels. Further her golden elbow length gloves melded into black kidskin and her pearl choker became a leather collar complete with chrome studs and D rings. Someone had done some very fancy editing is all I can say.

At this point Mr. Thatcher put in a plug for the company products. "Everyone may have their own version of this master and slave role-playing theme. Some may even like to have their slave completely naked, personally however I prefer to have my lovely slave clothed. Samantha is wearing one of our custom made corsets and I have always enjoyed these items as they add their own particular flavor of bondage." With a motion of his hand he had Sam turn so that her back faced the audience. Then the camera zoomed in on the laces, which he tested with his fingers to show their tautness. Theatrically he produced a measuring tape from his pocket and passed it around his wife's waist. The camera zoomed in on the tape to show the mark at just under 19 inches. "Darling what is your normal waist size?" Mr. Thatcher asked. "Oh, about 23 inches master." Samantha turned and the camera zoomed in on her hourglass waist once more. "I think that I have made my point, don't you?" Mr. Thatcher asked the imaginary audience.

Mr. Thatcher again threw out another sales pitch by expounding how the use of lingerie in a bondage scenario can make it much sweeter. "For example, I particularly like to use rope in our bondage play. And personally I prefer seeing the contrasting colors of the white rope on black or red stockings versus against naked flesh. Also, it may please me to have my lovely slave dressed in differing colored lingerie and for that I may use different colored rope. We carry a large assortment of braided nylon rope in red, gold, black, blue and green as well as an extensive array of lingerie."

"For all of you women out there", Sam chimed into the conversation. "Who are watching this video because your partner wants to introduce you into bondage there are a few things you should understand. Accepting the role as the bottom in a relationship, that is to say the slave, does not mean that you give up all of your rights. Your freedom perhaps", she added with a smile. "But not your rights. You and your top or master should discuss your fantasies and come to agreement as to what is and is not out of bounds. Remember, we are talking about consensual bondage and that means you MUST give your consent. If you don't like what your top is suggesting talk about it and work out a compromise, but always, always remember you can always say no."

"For an example of what I am talking about, take a look at the corset that I am wearing". The camera zoomed in so that the view consisted of from just below her chin to the lace tops of her black stockings. "Personally, I rather like corsets. They give you that lovely hour-glass figure, help your posture and really do wonders at empathizing your chest." Her gloved hands caressed her hips and narrowed waist as they moved upwards until they cupped her ample mounds, which were indeed, well displayed by the garment. "However, I prefer my corsets in a softer material, such as satin. My top and I discussed the issue and he agreed to have this model made out of the softest leather possible." She winked at the camera conspiratorially. "Besides he was right, it does look better on tape!" The camera panned out and then zoomed in on her smiling face. "This is supposed to be fun. It is the foreplay, before the climax. So enjoy yourselves and take care of each other."

The camera shifted back to Mr. Thatcher. "That being said now lets look at some preparations that you should make prior to embarking on your bondage quest." This led into a section on rope preparation: picking the proper rope, cutting it into pre-arranged lengths and taping the ends to eliminating fraying.

"Now to illustrate some simple ways to secure your partners arms...." Mr. Thatcher had his wife turn and put her arms behind her back. Then he went through showing three separate ways to secure her arms. First, crossed at the wrist. Next, side by side and finally, tying each wrist to the opposing elbow. The entire time that this was occurring he kept up a running dialogue with his wife. The both of them worked together to describe the process. Their smiling faces explained how it was possible to effectively restrain your partner without undue discomfort or pain. And how to easily check if their bonds were adversely effecting your partner's circulation. A simple pinch between thumb and forefinger was all that was needed. As long as your partner could feel the pinch you could feel free to proceed. It was totally entrancing watching them work together. It was as if they were in complete tandem with the one another and their joy in the subject matter was totally evident.

The film continued with Mr. Thatcher moving onto his wife's legs. A simple binding at the ankles and knees was followed by the application of a short spreader bar. The third tie was with crossed ankles and again binding above the knee. They explained how you had to be very careful with these last two ties and high heels. While wearing the spreader bar they focused on her spiked high heels and how it was very important for her to be properly settled; heels as straight as possible, toes angled slightly in opposite directions and soles firmly on the floor. Similarly, standing with crossed ankles, the camera now shifted to that picture, can be dangerous in heels because it is very difficult to maintain your balance.

The picture now dissolved and re-formed to show our lovely hostess standing before the camera. "Ladies before we go on I think we should have a quick discussion about high heels. The main reason that we wear them is, of course, because our men love seeing us in them. However that does not make them automatically comfortable. So if you are watching this tape and thinking about buying a pair of high heels here are some tried and true tips to follow.

The camera now zoomed in on Sam's legs, making her highly arched calves and feet easily visible. "Walking in spiked six-inch heels is an art and it takes practice. My first piece of advice is do not buy a pair of fetish heels like these until you've taken the time to build up to them. However, if your partner has to see you in them now and will not settle for later, that's fine but he must understand that they are just for bondage play and not for walking.

She smiled as the camera focused back on her face. "Before I could walk in these heels correctly my master would carry me from one bondage situation to another, just so I wouldn't have to take them off." She winked slyly. "You see there are advantages everywhere if you simply look for them". The camera moved back to her legs and showed her stepping out of her heels. Sam next showed an instructional leg and ankle stretching routine that you could do in 15 minutes a day. She finished by reminding the audience that if they intended to wear four to five inch heels on a normal basis, that they should set aside at least two hours a day to walk about barefoot. This was to ensure that the muscles and tendons had sufficient time to stretch out so as to eliminate any long-term problems.

With this completed she sat down in a chair and as her husband displayed a new set of heels for the camera. These were red and obviously not as high with twin straps that formed a diagonal cross over pattern. "If you are well versed with wearing four plus inch heels you may want to skip this step. For the rest of you however, I have found that it was best to start with a less adventurous heel." As her husband slid them on she continued, "This model is one of the best that we carry for this purpose. It has a four and a half inch heel, which should still be exciting enough for you partner and the crossed straps (the camera zoomed in on one shoe as Mr. Thatcher traced the red straps with his fingers) provide you with additional support. She stood gracefully. "Even standing needs to be done properly, when you are rising imagine your weight being settled just above your hips and move accordingly." Sitting she demonstrated standing again and now it was easy to see how she lined up her upper body as she stood.

"Next, when you are walking your heel should touch the floor first, with your toes following shortly afterwards. Some of you may have been told that your toes should touch first, but that's simply not true. Doing this causes you to take shortened steps and forces you to be leaning forward almost constantly." She now demonstrated walking in the heels and the camera, zoomed and panned to show both a single step and also her entire form as she glided from one step to another. Damn it, I thought to myself, Lucinda had taught me the wrong way! I could see by the way Samantha easily flowed in the heels that the heel to toe movement was much easier to balance in.

"You will also notice that I am keeping my feet pointed straight ahead of my body. One of the key mistakes that women make when walking in heels is to splay their toes outward like a duck. Doing this detracts significantly from the look you are trying to achieve and can cause undo back and muscle pains. However this splaying does allow for more stability for a beginner and that is where many women become trapped, but if you follow the steps that I am showing you here you will be able to avoid it."

"Finally, and perhaps most importantly, buy a quality pair of shoes. A cheap pair of shoes or ones that are too tight or loose can really hurt your feet. Buy good shoes in your normal size, which feel comfortable when you put them on. If you venture into the true fetish heels of around six inches and higher you will want to buy the shoes a half size, to in some cases a full size larger.

"Ladies if you follow these steps, in time you will be able to walk about in high heels as if you were walking around in bedroom slippers." The camera dissolved from Sam's face to once again show her legs. This time her feet were back in her six-inch patent leather heels as she glided about the room.

The film ended with the pair melding back into their evening dress as they left the bedroom. Michael's final pitch came with, "If you want to lean more about bondage play and positions you should continue watching our series with 'Bondage 102'.

I rose from the couch and got myself a glass of white wine. Then I popped in the next tape and settled back onto the couch. Bondage 102 and 103 added in different positions and equipment. And watching closely, as Sam had suggested, I could see where there were cuts in the filming. At times she would go from calmly smiling in a chair tie, to red cheeked and breathing heavily. She continued to smile however, so you did have to look for the gaffs.

How do I sign up I thought, now a little lightheaded from the wine. During the five different bondage's Sam's amazing body was restrained with ropes, straps and leather cuffs. Once her cuffed wrists were secured to a thick waist belt and another time to D rings on her collar. In most of the scenes she was bound sitting upon a chair, but in a few she was tied to other objects in the house. The bed, an ottoman and a tall stool were especially interesting. As were the five different gags that her husband stuffed her mouth with, including one that had a three-inch penis attached to it. Throughout the whole video Samantha responded to Mr. Thatcher's requests saying, "Yes Sir" and "No Sir". She raised her wrists to be bound, moved her legs into position to be restrained, shifted her head in order to change collars and opened her mouth to except each and every gag.

Always she appeared to be the epitome of contentment and happiness. She smiled mischievously whenever Mr. Thatcher wasn't looking, showing that she was enjoying the bondage play. Once while he was talking to the camera and she was in the background blindfolded, gagged and bound to a chair, you could see her crooking her finger (in that come here motion) to her husbands back. In my mind I imagined her sending the unspoken thought to him, to quit talking and come play with me.

Mr. Thatcher also gazed at his wife appreciatively during the each of the films. He commented on what a beautiful picture his lovely assistant made in her custom made corset (another product plug) and wonderful bondage position. His responses to her usually ended or began with the term 'my dear'. "My dear, please be so good as to put on this ball gag", he would say or "Thank you my dear for your wonderful efforts." It made me think why did all of the partners call me 'my dear' back at the office? Coincidence, probably, but I decided to ask about it when I could devise a good way to do it.

My two favorite bondage positions were the first and the last. Standing and hog-tied. These were in the first and third film, respectively. I also thought that the last scene was fantastic, where even though she was tightly hog-tied she smiled gamely around her gag when her husband said that this was a standard position in which to leave your partner bound for a lengthy period. I loved the way that Mr. Thatcher made the rope look so aesthetic, so pleasing to the eye.

It made me realize what Greg was talking about when he termed himself an artist. All of the rows were neat and even, loops of rope tightened the bindings between wrists, thighs, knees, calves and ankles. I loved the way that Samantha watched each of her husband's moves during these particular sessions. She seemed to know that he had found his one true love in bondage and she enjoyed being the center of his universe. Looking at her on the screen, she did indeed look like a beautiful piece of artwork. It made me hot inside just thinking that this is what I would look like for Greg.

After the films were over the two things that struck me the most was the high heel instructions and the hog-tie position. I really wanted to try that one out for myself, but realized that I would have to wait for morning before attempting the tricky position. The heels however, I could play with right now!

I went to the closet and removed the still boxed heels that Mr. Stanton had brought for me. I read the labels on the boxes and selected the black patent leather pair, simply because they boasted a mere five inch heel. Also these heels had the crossed strap design that had been described in the film and I wanted to have the extra support while I practiced. Mr. Stanton had referred to these heels as plain, but I found them to be quite charming. Not as flashy as the gold and black heels, but lovely all the same.

Looking at the heels and my outfit, I shook my head in resignation. I couldn't wear the heels with my peignoir set as they would clash terribly. Besides, I didn't even have stockings on and if I was going to practice, and I knew that I was doing so to please Greg, it only made sense to make it realistic. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was well past eleven. I was kind of tired so I figured that it would have to wait till tomorrow. As I reluctantly began to re-fold the paper linings back over the heels, I had another thought. Would Greg let me get away with being a little tired if he wanted me to practice wearing heels? I think not, I told myself firmly.

I couldn't decide which piece of lingerie to wear with the heels, when a key word once again crossed my mind. Realistic. What would I realistically be wearing if I were going to wear it with these heels? Probably a short skirt and a sexy top was the obvious answer. I had a number of these outfits, but just as quickly the perfect one for the job struck me.

Quickly I stripped out of my gown and slippers and went into my walk-in-closet to pull out my new black leather mini skirt and halter-top. I added a set of black stay up stockings with a pair of black panties to complete the outfit. In only minutes I was ready for the high heels.

Standing, I modeled the outfit in front of the full-length mirror. I smiled to myself as I re-positioned the skirt slightly placing the slit directly over my left thigh. Flexing my leg at the knee caused the slit to open showing off the sexy lace tops of my stockings. Working with the halter I was able to display a lot more flesh than when I had first put it on. The leather felt sumptuous on my chest. At first it had been a little cold but now it felt like... part of me. All that was left was to put on the shoes, but still I couldn't help but feel that something was missing.

What could it be? Greg would love seeing my long legs in the stockings, heels and leather mini. And with each breast displayed almost to the nipple, I couldn't imagine him finding fault with that part of my anatomy. Bondage. The one word ran around in my head. That was it. There was nothing to remind me that he was the Lord and I was his love slave. He would have come up with something for sure.

I discarded the idea of the multi-pack stimulator as I figured that that would probably blow me off of my heels. Crotch rope! It came to me in a flash. Mr. Thatcher had used one on me during his wager with Mr. Stanton and I had seen him use it a couple of times during the instructional bondage videos.

It took me all of ten minutes to realize that I barely had any rope in my apartment at all. It was only when I looked in the bathroom that I remembered that I had a piece of rope that I used for a clothesline. The good news was that under the sink I found the remainder of where that rope had come from. It was only about ten or twelve feet long, but I figured that that would be enough for my purposes.

I took off my mini and prepared the rope as Mr. Thatcher instructed by folding it in half. Placing the rope around my waist, I inserted the twin ends through the eye and pulled it tight. With this accomplished reversed Mr. Thatcher tie by sliding the circle of rope around my waist so that the remaining rope now dangled from the middle of my back. For I had already realized that I couldn't properly tie it in the back as he had. I threaded the cords between my legs and then up under the rope on my belly. I left the remaining rope hang in front of me while I completed Mr. Thatcher's instructions. As I had seen him do to Sam, I tightened the rope about my waist until it dug furrows in my tanned flesh. Holding it so it wouldn't loosen at the back, I pulled the rope taut against my crotch and tied off the rope in front of me. Using scissors I cut of the excess rope so that it would not dangle below the hem of my leather skirt.

"Oh, Oh", I moaned in surprise as I stepped into my mini. The rope had rubbed my tender mound with each move. Well that was its purpose I thought and at least I hadn't been a martyr and taken my panties off! Looking in the mirror, I smoothed out the skirt and was gratified to see that the crotch rope was almost entirely hidden by the leather material. I smiled, knowing that Greg would appreciate what I had done.

Finally it was time for the moment of truth. As my narrow nylon sheathed toes flowed down the arch of the sole into the depths of the shoe I could feel my entire foot mate with perfectly sized heels. Buckling the twin cross straps across my instep gave me almost a sensual pleasure. Greg was right again, the pale black of the nylons contrasted beautifully with the black heels.

Standing up from my vanity chair was my first surprise. I had done everything correctly and still I almost fell over backwards as my heels dug deeply into the wall-to-wall carpeting. Wind milling my arms I regained my balance. Then pushing my weight entirely onto my toes, which by the way all women have learned to do when walking over gratings on city streets, I walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. The hard wood floor proved to be just right for practicing in my new heels.

I got into a good rhythm of walking forward six steps, bringing both feet together and then turning very carefully in the other direction. I almost fell over the first time that I tried to turn on a dime. I found however if I tried a more oval shaped track that I could, put my left foot in front of my right and by putting all of my weight on my toes I could make a nearly perfect ninety degree turn.

It was a lot of work to continually think about keeping your weight centered and not letting the heels wobble. And Sam was right that a lot more of my weight was resting on my toe pads, but perhaps due to her coaching, not painfully so. All the while the rope between my legs was doing its own little dance. Focusing as much as possible on mastering the heels I was mostly able to keep its teasing caresses at bay.

After about ten minutes I felt much more confidant walking in the heels. However now that I had gotten over the fear of falling, other feelings were becoming more predominant. The rope had pulled itself deep into my pussy and could no longer be denied. Added to this excitement was the keen feeling of the soft leather rubbing against my nipples. The halter-top was just a bit tight and each step treated my hardened nipples to yet another sexy massage. Finally, there was Greg. I closed my eyes and smiled just thinking about him. It made me warm all over thinking of the lust that this outfit would inspire within him.

After another five minutes my breathing was coming heavily and I simply could not continue. I sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. One of my hands slid under the soft leather that cupped my breast as my fingers felt for an enflamed nipple. Pushing the material away, I rolled the tips of two of my fingers over my ultra sensitive nipple. Oh, God that felt so good. In my minds eye it was Greg's hand caressing me, while his other hand slid under my dress. My panties slid aside easily, but the rope had to be pushed away before his fingers could plow into my already dripping sex. Soon he had found my g-spot, which caused me to open my legs wider and at the same time arch my back in sheer pleasure. My breathing was now coming in quick gasps as the passion built up within me. His fingers pinched down on my nipple as his other hand dove in an out of my sex. "Oh, Oh, Oh, Oooohhhhh", I cried as it all became too much for me and I came in a wonderfully satisfying orgasm.

Leaning against the back of the chair, I rested while both my body and I returned to normal. I felt drained now that my fantasy of Greg was gone, yet excited that this would all be real very soon. Gradually, I regained my strength and decided that taking off my heels would be a good idea before I faced the bedroom carpet again. It seemed to take much more effort to get them off then put them on, but I persevered. As I did so my fingers inadvertently slid into the toe of the shoe. It was then that I felt the soft couching pad embedded in the sole. So this, I thought, is what they meant by a quality shoe.

Tired and satisfied, I once again wondered about all of the recent changes in my life. Specifically the changes that had taken place in my sex life. For months after what's his name had left I had led almost a monastic life style. Now in the course of a few weeks I had had more orgasms than I had during a year of normal sex. In the past my partner never worked to make sure that I achieved completion, if I did it was a nice side benefit but it wasn't his main goal.

Greg, on the other hand, was exactly the opposite. Oh, he delighted in drawing out my orgasms to make them take longer to achieve than necessary, but this only made them stronger and sweeter when they finally arrived. Whenever I was with him I knew that I was the center of his focus. Sports, stocks, work he left them all at the door. He always put me in the center spotlight and I had found that I loved this. I went to sleep that night thinking these happy thoughts as I snuggled into my warm blankets.

In the morning I watched the video, 'Bondage 103', for a second time. The hog tie position still fascinated me. Mr. Thatcher had used this position during his part of the wager and I don't think that I will ever forget the sense of helplessness that I felt at the time. It was just that feeling of helplessness that made it so wonderful, in that it had let me truly appreciate the entire situation. Lying on that card table I had felt like I was on a raised stage, with the lights above like the spotlights at a theater. What a rush it was to have everyone's attention focused on me. I desperately wanted to achieve that level of intensity again. The only thing that bothered me about it was that it would be difficult or perhaps even impossible to achieve without someone to help me.

However, right at the end of the film, Mrs. Thatcher put herself into a fairly strict hog tie for her loving husband to find when he completed his part of the filming. Mr. Thatcher was very convincing afterwards when he quickly rushed through his lines to end the tape. Unfortunately, Samantha had not described exactly what she was doing during her bondage routine, so I had to figure out some of the final pieces myself. I made a quick trip to the hardware store where I purchase 100ft. of nylon clothesline. I had purchased the nylon rope at the Thatcher's recommendation. `If you want to make sure that your partner will not escape go with cotton rope, but for consensual bondage play nylon line is the way to go.'

When I got home I separated the rope from my other purchases. Then using a kitchen knife I cut a couple of eight-foot lengths and a couple of twelve-foot lengths. In my mind the smaller pieces would be for my wrists or ankles and the larger two for my legs and thighs. I taped the end of each cord with electrical tape, just the way that they had shown in the video. Then setting the washer to delicate I put in the ropes, using a couple of towels for fill.

The ropes had finished their third wash cycle by the time I had finished watching the three films once again. Mr. Thatcher had explained that the ropes the company sold were all washed three times before being sold to the customer. I shifted them and the towels into the dryer and tried to think of what I could do with myself for the next hour. I ran through my normal aerobics exercises, while my mind whirled with pictures of Sam being bound and how knots were tied. After that I flowed directly into the ankle and leg stretching routine. I had decided that I would add this to my routine, so that it would become second nature to me. The buzzer on the dryer going off brought me back to the real world.

The rest of my weekend consisted of practicing with my new heels and trying to tie myself up in as many ways as possible. It was as much fun as it was educational as I learned a lot about knots and how to properly apply rope over different types of clothing. Tying my legs up in jeans was just a lark that turned out to be a really exciting, because it was so different. The comfortable material always bunched around the rope, forming its own unique look. This led me to trying to bind myself in any number of different types of outfits and materials.

Nude bondage, however, was a bust. I tried it after taking a shower and it just wasn't the same. However, I decided that I liked the way the rope felt against my stockings, just as I liked the feel of my stocking covered toes in my soft leather slippers. I loved the feel of satin, silk and lace surrounding my breasts, especially when it would just barely brush against the tip of my nipples. It was different than the feel of leather from last night, but it was still quite a turn on.

During all of this self-discovery, I found myself laughing and happy as I experienced each new learning. It was like playing a game. A game where anything goes and the only thing that is important is finding the things that make you happy.

My best bondage and orgasm experience came on Sunday afternoon. I had finally found the perfect way to put myself into a hog-tie position. I was wearing a silky pink bra and panty outfit with white trim, the matching garters and hose and my white nylon ballet-like slippers. First I bound both my legs at the ankles and above the knees, at which I had now become quite adept. I then attached another piece of rope to my ankles that had two of Sam's special slipknots at the end of their short run. Lying down on my belly, I turned on the vibrator. (I had worn the Multi Pack Stimulator almost all weekend long, plus off and on I would gag myself also. At the time I had my ball gag firmly between my teeth.) Bending my legs down as close as possible towards my back I reached up and found the two loops. Sliding my wrists inside, I tightened them by pulling my ankles away form my wrists.

It wasn't anywhere near as stringent as the bondage imposed upon me by Mr. Thatcher, but it was a hog-tie all the same. As I lay there on my bed, I was able to once again achieve that feeling of being helplessly on display. My lover could do anything he wanted to me and I wouldn't be able to stop him. As I soaked up these feelings the vibrator was doing it's own thing. That new 'toy' in my pussy rubbed vigorously up and down my sensitive inner walls, while the base of the large cock hummed against my G-spot. This by itself would have been more than enough to send me over the top, but combined with the fact that I had been at a high level of excitement for the entire day...

"Uuummmm, Uuuuummnnnn", I moaned like a cat in heat. The gag was forgotten as a gut wrenching explosive orgasm built within my enflamed body. Rolling onto my side, I tried to scrunch up into a ball but my bonds prevented me. Those taut cords pulled through the base of the pseudo penises were also vibrating. I could feel the narrow straps thrumming against my flat stomach and tight ass, sort of like a rubber band that had been plucked. These same cords also passed through the base of the butt plug, which doubled the effectiveness of the vibrator within me. My hips thrust against the pressure on there own accord, pulling my bindings tighter and tighter in the process. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhhh", I groaned gutturally into the heavy ball. The softer motions of small penis in my anal track brought back sexually charged memories of Greg's intrusion in that same opening. My hands were balled into fists so tightly that they hurt. My slippers arched and crested in tandem above my bond ankles.

In minutes the fire between my legs was an inferno and yet it continued to build. I gasped in breath's quickly through my nose as my body arched again and again to this sexual onslaught. "Ohhhh God, Ohhhhhhh God, Ohhhhhhhh Yes. Yessss. Yessssss", I thought as I came in the blockbuster of all orgasms. I thrashed from side to side, ripping at my restraints with all of my strength. The waves of release continued to crash into me like huge breakers onto a sandy beach. More and more waves swept through me, until my sexually charged body tingled from the roots of my hair to the nylon covered toes of my feet. I screamed with delight into my gag as the monstrous orgasm finally ended. As my body began to relax, in the warm after glow of sexual release, I realized that I was ready to quit.

The large prick bound into my body, of course, had other ideas. The constant vibrations did not cease with my orgasm. The cords did not stop their thrumming and the plug in my rear passage way did not cease its seductive motions. Rather than bask in release, I could feel my body tensing towards another round.

At that point I began to realize that my fingers were tingling. I couldn't see behind me but, with all of my wild gyrations I must have tightened the slipknots so much so that they were cutting off my circulation. With all of the energy remaining in my body I willed my legs closer to my hands in order to give me a little slack. It was difficult, but now I could slide my fingers beneath the rope around my wrists and open up one of the bindings. Try as I might though, I couldn't loosen the rope enough.

This bit of frustration again pushed me over the top. It took a little longer this time as I tried to fight it off. But the base of that vibrator continued to hum viciously against my clit. Soon I was shifting myself from hip to hip, which only intensified the building fire. Higher, higher, higher the pressure built..... "UUUUuuummmnnnnnn", I screamed once more as the wave spread through my body. I pulled at my restraints, making my whole body as taut as the skin on a drum. Again and again the waves passed through me, not as intense as the previous orgasms, but great just the same. Once again the sexual release subsided and in a state of exhausted frenzy I returned to my task.

Rolling on my side, I felt around with my almost numb hands. It took what seemed like hours of shimming around on the bed until I touched the hard metal object. Thank God, I had found the little folding knife that I had left as my backup plan. At the time I had thought that I wouldn't need it, but over the last few weeks I had learned that it was always a good idea to have a last resort solution in mind. It took awhile for me to finally get the blade opened and positioned properly. The vibrations of the fake penises were beginning to be uncomfortably insistent. This time however, I didn't feel the building of the orgasms that I had come to expect. It just seemed to get me to a very high level of excitement, but not take me over the peak. This was fortunate however, because it allowed me to finally cut my way loose.

Now, I was able to truly enjoy the funk of great sex as I turned off the vibrator and rubbed the circulation back into my hands. Life was good and best of all Greg would be back in only a few more days!

Leather & Lace, Co.

Chapter 14 - Dinner is Served

By the White Knight

(Note: Written from Greg's perspective.)

I doubt that many people are hugged and kissed, in Lucinda's case, when they arrive at work for the first time. However, this was exactly what happened as I arrived at the Leather and Lace office on Thursday morning. I was a bit tired my body was still telling my mind that it was only 7 o'clock in the morning despite the fact that my watch read 10am. Knowing that all of the partners thought that I was the man for the job was exhilarating however, I still was unsure if this was the right move for me.

My mind discarded all of those thoughts as I saw her walking directly away from me, oblivious to my return. I had forgotten how statuesque she was and it all came back to me as I viewed her long slim body striding gracefully about her business. Sharon was wearing a pair of chambray colored slacks that while not being overly tight showed off the charms of each lovely cheek. The bottoms of the pant legs ended in flared cuffs that nearly covered her shoes. This peaked my interest, because her shoes were of a style that I hadn't seen in years. They were brown with stacked heels that were probably between three and four inches. The leather upper, which extended up over her instep in the Quaker style, sported a decorative gold chain. It was the almost square cut toe of the shoe that made them so different. This design made her size seven feet appear even smaller and more delicate.

The partner's quieted down as they noticed that they hand lost my attention. I could see each of them smiling at me in my peripheral vision and it made me wonder. Were they using Sharon as the trap to bring me to L&L? Was she being used as the linchpin to meld themselves to Stanton Enterprises?

"Sharon", Lucinda called to the goddess across the room. She turned and then froze. A small tremor seemed to pass through her. Eventually she smiled and began walking towards me. Her creamy white top was a simple button down which accentuated her breasts in a Town and Country sort of way. Whatever my new partners reasoning, I couldn't imagine a sweeter trap.

Standing hesitantly in front of our group, she said softly, "Hi Greg". I couldn't stand to see her feel so uneasy, so I opened my arms and pulled her into me. The feel of her supple body pressed against my own, reminded me of our recent adventures and sent my blood racing. I kissed her chastely. Pulling away just a bit, I gave her my best Harrison Ford-like roguish grin as I said, "Every time that I see you, you look even more beautiful than the last."

Harry (Harrison) cleared his throat forcing me to look away from the lovely creature in my arms. "Greg", he said in his fatherly voice. "Why don't you and Sharon take a fifteen minute break and get reacquainted. Will meet you in the conference room at 10:30am and start hashing out our plans. How does that sound?"

Before I could answer Sharon jumped in. "Mr. Harrison, you don't have to do that! I'm sure that Greg would agree with me that we don't want our relationship to compromise the job at hand." Personally, I'm a bit more self-centered than my lady and I would have gladly accepted. However, she was right so I nodded my agreement.

"Nonsense", Harry rejoined looking directly at Sharon. "I would say this to my own daughter or son (he nodded his head towards me), love comes before work. Handle that part of your life properly and the rest will all fall into place".

Sharon blushed deeply as I steered her away from the group, with a wave and a word of thanks. We left the building and walked out onto the busy Manhattan sidewalk. I put my arm possessively around her shoulders and felt her arm go about my waist as her head leaned into my chest.

"Do you really like my outfit?" she asked. It has always amazed me what women find important, but at least it was an easy icebreaker.

"Yes, I do. In fact I think that you look absolutely stunning." I answered truthfully.

"Oh, I'm glad. I wasn't sure if you would always want me to wear trendy skirts and high heels and I was a little afraid that you wouldn't approve."

"Princess, you have your own style and I love it. I wouldn't want you to change who you are just to please me. If I suggest a change and you like it, that's great, but if not you should always feel free to tell me so." I had steered her into Central Park as we walked and spying an empty bench we both sat down. "Beside your style is so refreshing. Your shoes for example are casual, yet scream femininity." As a woman walked by I pointed inconspicuously towards her shoes. "She my dear is wearing the height of fashion. The long pointy toe is all the rage this year and you'll see that style on every woman in Vogue or Cosmopolitan."

"I hate them. To me they look like clown shoes." Sharon huffed.

"I agree 100% darling." I chuckled. "I don't think that I would have called them clown shoes, but I totally agree that they are simply ugly."

With one hand I gently turned her beautiful face towards me. God she was gorgeous, I thought as I looked at her incredible features. The full sensuous lips painted with a creamy dark pink color, beneath that cute button nose and those high model-like cheek bones were a treat all their own. Oh, and those hazel eyes that projected love and tenderness all of which was framed by her luscious wavy… ASH BLOND hair.

"Sharon you've colored your hair", burst from between my lips.

"Well it took you long enough to notice Sherlock!" She said with a laugh. Then she added "I hope that you like it, but if you don't I can change it back in a few weeks."

"Princess, I love it" I told her as I took her into my arms, "but I thought that you hated being a blond."

"No, Greg, what I told you that I hated being thought of as a dumb blond", she corrected me. "I do rather like the color and truthfully this is a close to my natural color as I could get." Then she looked into my eyes and smiled. "You see I listen to you when you talk, even to the little details. Do you know what all of the women that you have been serious about had in common?" I thought about it and nodded my head no. "They were all blonds… with the exception of Kathy who had red hair from her Irish ancestry."

I had to smile back. I was amazed that she could remember our talks in such detail, but I was more impressed that she was able to puzzle out my own desires without my having to voice them. "Yes, blondes have always been one of my weaknesses. But, I wouldn't have asked you to change your hair color to please me."

She looked at me curiously then looked about us to see that no was nearby. "Actually, dear Master, I think that in time you would have definitely asked me to change my hair color. It was written on the wall that first evening of love making when you found out that I was a natural blond. However, you would have tactfully waited for the proper opening before asking me." She kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Being as one of my main interests in life is to please you…" She moved her lips to meet mine and we shared a lovely lingering kiss.

"You know Mr. Harrison was right love should always come first and Sharon I really do love you." All I can say is that the young lady doesn't know her own strength. I thought she was going to break my neck as she put her arms around my neck and hugged me fiercely, and told me that she loved me too. Fortunately, this bear hug was short lived as her lips sought out mine. Our mouths sealed the bargain allowing us to get on with our lives.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for me. There was so much to take in all in one sitting. The key, though, was that we worked out a schedule in which I would be understudying each of the partners. This would allow me to gradually work my way into the firm and with my fresh outlook, hopefully see where there was room for improvement or innovation.

It was difficult watching Sharon leave at five o'clock while the other partner's and I had to stay around for a rap up meeting. She told me not to worry, because it would give her time to work out, shower and throw something together for dinner. "That's fine princess", I said softly, "but don't worry about dinner. I will be cooking for you!" She looked like she was going to argue so I put a finger over her lips. "Trust me, I've been cooking for myself for years and I haven't poisoned myself yet." She smiled and left without any further argument.

It was my first time to her apartment and despite getting driving directions from mapquest.com I still ended up asking a gas station attendant where to find Haldsted Avenue. This proved to be a blessing in disguise, for when I was lost I happened upon a handy grocery store. I had barely knocked on her door when Sharon opened it. The suddenness of this almost made me drop my packages. Of course this also might have been do to the fact that I was once again stunned by the beauty of this woman who professed to love me. She stood in the doorway in the ruby red Elizabethan style gown that we had picked up together, which showed off a dazzling amount of her creamy mounds. Her pose opened one of the slits invitingly showing off sheer black stockings and the sexy satin feather tufted mules. She wiggled one of the sandals to draw my attention and said with a smile, "I also have a pair of my leather ballet style slippers in this color if that is more to your liking my Lord."

Shaking my head slowly, I replied, "No princess, I wouldn't have you change a thing." She smiled and stepped aside so I could enter. I couldn't help but notice that she walked exceedingly well in the four-inch heels as she led me to the kitchen. My memory wasn't all that clear, but despite her vivaciousness I didn't remember her being that graceful in the heels last week. "Now, what can I do to help", she asked as I put down the groceries on the table.

"Point me to your wok or skillet if you don't have a wok and then skeedattle!" I answered with a smile.

She frowned slightly as she pulled out an electric Wok from one of the cabinets.

"But, I thought I could help you make dinner."

"Princess I promise that I will give you plenty of opportunities to cook for me, but today I am cooking for you. Now off you go. I'll call you when dinner is ready." Reluctantly she left and I closed the kitchen door behind her. I looked around and began to familiarize myself with the surroundings, noting where things were that I would need to complete the meal. The cutting board and knives were my first prizes and I placed these next to the sink as I began washing the vegetables.

Not ten minutes into my preparations the door opened and Sharon asked plaintively, "Are you sure that I can't help you?"

"Yes, princess, I am sure", I said tolerantly. As I gently turned her around and patted her supple rear end propelling her gently out of my domain. I went back to my work, chopping off the ends of the beans and asparagus. This time it was less than five minutes before she returned. "Princess, out!" I told her sternly. I cut off her protest as I closed the door in her face. If it had a lock I would have used it, unfortunately the door was more for decoration than security.

I had barely turned my back when I heard the door opening again. "But cooking is my thing and now I don't know what to do with myself", she whined.

Smiling I turned to face her. "Oh, you don't know what to do with yourself is that the problem. You should have said so earlier, I'm sure I can think of plenty of things to do with you." My smile had turned cold and I saw her gulp like a frightened child. She knew now that she had over stepped her bounds and was only waiting to hear her sentencing. Taking her hand I walked her down the short hallway, which ended in the combination dinning and living room. Seeing the couch and the TV, my plan coalesced in my mind.

"You told me that you were playing with rope last weekend, correct?" I asked her firmly.

"Yes, Master", she answered me sheepishly.

"I want you to bring me the rope, your ball gag and those slippers that you mentioned earlier", I stated commandingly.

"Yes, Master", Sharon replied quickly as she scurried away to do my bidding. She returned in mere minutes bearing the items. "Sit down on the coach." She sat primly with her legs together at the knees and her back straight. "Place your gag and your mouth and buckle it in place". She had changed her lip color to a dark red that looked truly fantastic as she obediently encircled the yellow ball. Tossing her blond locks out the way with a flick of her head she buckled the leather strap and then looked up at me. "One more notch please, princess". She did so digging the straps deeply into the corners of her cheeks and pulling the ball further into her mouth. The tips of two of her gleaming white incisors now peaked from below her top lip as her jaw was distended even farther then before. "Now replace your mules with your slippers". She bent over gracefully and removed the mules, placing them neatly together to one side of her feet. Sliding into the soft kidskin she arched her feet playfully like a ballerina, to show off her sexy slippers.

While I enjoyed her little show it also pointed out to me that she wasn't quite taking this seriously enough yet. I smiled as I thought of one little addition to the bondage that I had planned, which might make her think twice before bothering me again. "Bind you ankles together with the rope". Picking up one of the pieces of rope she properly folded it and then proceeded to thread the ends through eye slightly above her ankles. She wrapped the rope twice more about her black nylon sheathed legs and tied it off by encircling these bands and tightening them in the process. The rope work wasn't as neat as it could be, but the tightness was attested to by the deep furrows that she had created in her supple flesh. "Very good, princess. You appear to have learned quite a bit in my short absence." I complimented her. "Now add another binding just above your knees". Sharon tossed aside the entire front panel of her gown to lie next her on the couch. This move revealed her black lace garter and panty set. Although my view of her panties was partially obscured, those wonderfully sculpted long legs were breath taking to behold. Without a pause she selected another piece of rope and set about her task. Again her rope work could use improvement, regardless though the white rope binding her sheer black stocking clad legs was awe-inspiring. I moved over and sat beside her. "Turn and put your arms behind you". She turned placing her crossed wrists behind her as requested. I separated her wrist and bound each with there own short cord. "Now put your arms together elbows to wrists". I was actually surprised that she knew what I meant, as evidenced by her brisk response. I bound each wrist to the opposite elbow with a binding pattern very similar to that used on her ankles and legs. "Turn back to your front, princess". She did so to find me holding another length of rope.

I slid this through the binding at her knees and then wrapped it around the back of her neck. "Lean forward, princess". As she did so I tightened the rope until I was able to cinch the rope once again to the binding about her knees. She was now bent over at a 45-degree angle from her waist and it was necessary for her to raise her eyes simply to look at me. Her tightly bound legs and arms hadn't left her much freedom to begin with, but this out and out eliminated it.

Turning on the TV to the local news, I happily surveyed my handiwork as I headed back towards the kitchen. "Aaaammmrrraa", she called urgently to my back. I turned as being well versed in gag-speak I realized that Sharon had said camera.

"You want me to get the camera?" I asked for clarification. Sharon nodded her head affirmatively as much as she could in her bound state.

"Aaaauuummm", she hummed past her gag.

"You want me to get the camera, so I can take pictures for our album", I responded as I now understood her intent. "My God woman you are simply incorrigible". I smiled at her beautiful face, complete with the sexy yellow ball gag. "And I love it!" Before returning to my work in the kitchen, I followed her suggestion and retrieved my camera from the car. The first shot was my favorite. Kneeling directly in front of the TV I had a fantastic frontal view of my bound lover. Her warm green eyes smiled at me as I adjusted the zoom so that she filled the picture from head to toe. Thick hair fell forward neatly framing her face in a lovely golden wreath, held in check only by the red satin hair band that she wore. The yellow ball and tight black straps pulled tightly at her sexy red lips. I've always loved the look of a ball gag in a sexy female's mouth and Sharon was no exception to this rule. Her brandy colored lips were stretched to the limit around the bright yellow piece of rubber. Every once and a while she would bite down on the ball to alleviate the stress, but ultimately she would have to give up her futile attack.

Directly below her finely chiseled chin lay a wonderful display of her lightly tanned breasts. The elegantly gathered material pushed her chest tightly together forming a beautifully defined shelf of well rounded mounds. Below this her black panties and garters peaked out from beneath her gown. Her tightly bound legs where sheathed in their shinny black stockings, with her feet comfortably ensconced in her ballet-like slippers. After taking a few pictures from her side, I helped her slide back into the red satin mules in order to add a bit of a flare to the shots. As I stood up to resume my cooking, Sharon moaned, "Aaaaaaqqq". I stopped as the lady began shifting her position, bit by bit, until her back was facing me. "Ah, yes", I replied to my assistant happily. "I did almost forget your back!" After a dozen or so pictures the roll ended, which I felt was a good place to stop and return to my cooking. I patted my lover on the head, thanking her for her help before I returned to the kitchen.

I completed my stir-fry meal, leaving it on warm as I went to retrieve my partner. Once she was released from her neck binding, she sat up and rolled her head in circles. After she had loosened her aching muscles, I removed her gag.

"Would you like to be bound or unbound for dinner, princess", I asked the lovely lady.

"Unbound", she replied, "but not just yet." I looked at her questioningly. Smiling at me mischievously she explained. "If you are going to provide the dinner, don't you think that you also owe me an appetizer?" The wink of an eye told me all that I needed to know. "Afterwards, if you wish, you may unbind me for dinner, Master."

I smiled as I lowered the zipper and dropped my pants. My member sprang directly towards her as if it had a mind of its own. As I rubbed my hardening rod against her cheeks Sharon began to kiss, up and down its sides. A sucking kiss right on the tip announced her desire to please me... now! Slowly she worked her way down and around my pole kissing and licking every inch of the way. My cock throbbed and bobbed of its own accord pulling away from her searching lips, like a loose firemen's hose attached to an active hydrant. I thought of holding it steady, but it was too much fun, watching the bound beauty darting her head and tongue this way and that to catch up to it. I put my hands about her neck and massaged the angry red line left by the rope, she sighed and moaned appreciatively.

Sharon finally caught up to the head of my penis. She held it in her open mouth, as her tongue licked around and over the cap. Like a powerful vacuum her mouth closed in on the sides of my cock as she sucked for all she was worth. This pulled her head towards me, encasing a good two inches of my manhood. She slid backwards and forwards, continuing to take in only the first couple of inches. I moved my hands to the back of her head, wrapping my fingers in her long ash blond waves.

Now it was my turn to moan. I watched, in rapt attention, as her widely spread brandy colored lips moved up and down my hardened rod. With the sides of her mouth tight against my pole each move caressed the entire circumference. The noises emanating from her efforts excited me to no end. Her labored breathing through her nose and those warm, slurppy, sucking sounds. It sounded like she was sucking a favorite ice pop... except oh so much more sensual. I groaned in ecstasy.

The princess had gotten herself into a comfortable rhythm of sliding up and down my pole. She worked hard to thrust her head forward on the downward plunges. Her increased efforts had finally achieved perfection as her nose began to bury itself in my pubic hairs. Looking behind her, as she once again assumed a 45-degree angle with her upper body, I saw her hands tightly gripping her own arms. Her eyes were closed and I knew that her entire focus was on sucking me off. I could feel myself on the verge of coming as my cock began to give little pre-cum jumping jacks in her busy mouth. Sharon obviously knew what this portended, as she began to back me out of her mouth, with the obvious intention of having me explode outside of that warm orifice. I watched her as she did this. Eyes closed, sucking strongly as she pulled backwards.

Until this point I had left her in complete control of her fate. Now, I held her head tightly in my strong hands and roughly pushed my meat back into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat. Her eyes popped open in surprise. I began to push her head forwards and backwards once again, as she now became the slave to my rhythm. She began to relax, taking the situation in stride, right up until I exploded.

As my jism erupted, I forced her to totally deep throat my entire cock. With my rough pubic hair ground against her nose and lips, she gagged at first, as shot after shot of hot cum hit the back of her throat and was pumped directly into her stomach. After the initial shock, which had caused tears to form in the corners of her eyes, she took to the job at hand like a champion. She sucked and drank down my entire load! As she finished and my excitement ebbed, I let go of her head. Sharon backed her mouth off of my manhood. She looked up at my satisfied features and then back down at my slowly deflating cock. A drop of white after cum glistened in its one eye. Leaning forward she gave the head a luscious kiss and licked the goo away. Again she looked up at me and smiled, "Good, now I'm ready for dinner".

"You know when I was a teenager we used to call girls like you eleven's", I informed my lovely companion.

"What's an eleven?" She asked innocently.

"A ten that swallows!" said I, with my best leer.

"Oh, that's crude. But I like it!" Sharon replied with a dazzling smile.

With the lovely lady unbound we ate in the dinning alcove. We shared a bottle of wine with the meal, but I let her have the lions share as I was still tired from my travels. It was a pleasure just to watch her, to be with her, to drink in her essence. She listened to my stories with an intensity, which reminded me of students listening in rapt fascination to a truly good lecturer. When she spoke her vivaciousness flowed from her, making the subject of her tale both exciting and interesting. I noticed the red rope marks from Sharon's earlier confinement as she gestured with her hands while telling a story about helping a customer. For a woman who was bound totally helpless only minutes before it was amazing to see how easily she accepted this new part of her life.

Sharon stood up and started to clean up. "Oh, I just love this song", she announced as a male classical singer began belting out a love long. Personally, I didn't listen to classical music as a matter of course, so I wasn't familiar with the song. Sharon, though, obviously was. With a plate in each hand she danced about the room as graceful as a ballroom dancer. As the tenor hit a high note, she stopped in place so suddenly that the heels of her mules were lifted completely off the floor. The singer held this note for what seemed like minutes while she stood there like a statue. Sharon's eyes were closed with her head thrown backwards in abandon to the music. Her back was arched, while her arms held the plates delicately before her. Those beautiful legs were stretched to the extreme as the four-inch heels she wore cleared the floor by a good three inches! I couldn't believe what I was seeing she was nearly standing completely on her toes!

As the note was finished she lowered herself gracefully back to the floor and finished dancing the dishes to the sink. When the song ended and she was once again seated across from me, I asked her how she had done that.

"You mean stand there in a level three position?" She replied.

"Level three?"

"Ballet, darling", she responds with a lilting laugh. "Basically there are four levels, you would call them heights, which your heel is supposed to be above the floor during different movements in a ballet. The quarter point with your heel just off the floor, the half point or the three-quarter point where you form a straight line from the knee to ball of the foot. Only women can attain the fourth level, which is standing on the toes and called sur les pointes or "on pointe." This of course requires special reinforced shoes known as toe shoes or pointe shoes. I still have a pair in the closet, although I quit practicing when I was sixteen."

"Why did you quit", I asked in interest.

"Ballet is fun when your young, but as you grow older it becomes more and more intense. If you want to really become a ballerina you have to put your heart and soul into it at the exclusion of everything else. But it wasn't my dream, you see, it was my mothers. So in my later years it became sheer drudgery. Finally in my sophomore year I got up the courage to tell my mother how I felt about it." Sharon looked away from me before she continued. "In fact, I don't think my mother has ever forgiven me for quitting. From that point on we've just never really gotten along." Standing I walked in front of her and held out my hands. She took them and I swept her into a comforting hug. "I'm sorry Sharon. I didn't mean to open old wounds."

"Thanks", she said softly. "But in all honesty, I only feel anger towards them. They wanted me to be some perfect little caricature of a person. A plastic Barbie doll that went to the right school married the right boy and lived a financially secure life unhappily ever after."

"Well I don't think that I would have qualified as one of their 'right boys'", I said with a laugh. "But speaking of financially secure, I've lined up a realtor who is going to show us some houses. Not this weekend as we will need some time to settle in together, but perhaps the next weekend."

She looked up at me with her watery eyes beaming. "Boy you really know how to perk a girl up!" We talked about house hunting for a few minutes, as I steered her towards the bedroom. Tired as I was I could see that my young colt was straining at the bit with sexual excitement. Of course, even if I had missed these silent messages her bed told the same tale. Lying on her white comforter were her nylon cuffs, which had already been fastened to the corner posts of the bed. Separating herself from me she went over and sat on the bed.

"I can tell that you're tired my lord, but if it pleases you I would greatly appreciate your affections", she stated demurely. How can one deny such a lovely slave?

"Would you like to cum tonight, princess?" I asked gently.

"If it pleases you, my lord", she replied with a grin.

I gave her my own mischievous smile. "Actually I am very tired, princess. So I am going to have to limit our activities to a mere half of an hour". She looked crestfallen, but quickly tried to hide it. "However, within that time I promise that you will cum not once, but three times!" Her expression turned to disbelief, but I didn't reassure her. "Now bind yourself to the bed and include your blindfold, while I retrieve your slippers."

She was just finishing her last wrist cuff as I returned. I had not only brought her slippers with me, but had also picked my camera, a large decorative pillow from the couch and a towel from the bathroom. I laid down the pillow and towel on the vanity then took a couple of shots of my lover from different angles.

Sharon could here the camera's whirl, which caused her to smile. "I thought that I was going to have to remind you again."

I chuckled as I finished and then sat down on the bed. With both hands I gently caressed her luscious breasts through the soft satin material. My lips found their way to the nape of her neck and slowly worked their way up to her dangling earlobe.

"Hhhmmmm", Sharon moaned with a happy smile. A number of times her lips sought out mine, but I would have none of it as I continued to kiss and caress the lovely lady. Sliding my fingers under the material confining her chest, I pushed it downwards until her nipples peered above the fabric. This now gave her breast the appearance of residing in a half-cup bra. This showed off her firm mounds magnificently, complete with her hardened nipples that stood at attention like Buckingham Palace soldiers.

Slowly, I kissed my way towards her chest as my hands moved lower on her. Gently, I let my tongue caress her bullet shaped nipples as my fingers began to explore her vulva. Softly I ran my digits across the top of her lower mouths lips and then silently slid between them. I heard something fall onto the carpeted floor behind me and turned my head just in time to see Sharon kick off her second mule.

"Oh, yes", she moaned as she thrust her hips upwards to meet my first touch of her clitoris. I rubbed that excitable little piece of her flesh with slow circular motion that matched my tongue's movements upon her nipples. Her breathing became more and more rapid with each caress of her fevered body.

Raising my head from her chest, I increased the tempo of my assault on her clit. I loved watching as her whole being tensed towards the inevitable climax. How her hands held onto the nylon straps, pulling at them with all her might, to gain that last centimeter of room. With her dark stocking covered toes digging into the pure white comforter, she strained at her bounds to allow her hips more room to writhe my touch. Sharon was no longer smiling as her face below the mask took on a more serious and excited look. Her slightly parted lips shown wetly in the warm glow of the candles placed strategically about the room. She had become a wild sexual animal entirely under my control. I smiled as I lowered my head.

"Ow. Ow", she moaned as I nipped at her hardened nipples. Her hips and my hand had become as one as we fell into sync with one another. Our motions were now shorter, fiercer and quicker. "OW. Ooooowwwwww", she cried as I tugged at her tits with my teeth. I sucked on her abused nipple, distending it with my suction and then letting it snap back down to her chest. "Ooooohhhhhh, yes... yes... yes... YES!" she screamed as she came in a dazzling display of her luscious body's lust. Her hips continued to undulate as her orgasm burned within her. I removed my hand and cleaned off her juices on the towel before placing it on the bed beneath her firm cheeks.

Sharon relaxed as her explosion ebbed and a satisfied smile returned to her pretty face. I lightly traced the sole of her foot with a soft caress and was surprised when she giggled and jerked her foot away. She was still giggling as she told me, "Sorry, but I'm extremely ticklish."

"Ah", I replied knowingly as I slid on her red leather slippers and mentally filed away that very interesting information. The black stocking looked stunning flowing into the red leather, so I rewarded her for finding and purchasing these slippers so promptly by giving her a quick foot massage. She purred her approval.

"Now for the unveiling of our new masterpiece", I said as I swept away the front panel of her gown. Sure enough her brown muff glistened in the light. Easing the thick pillow under her hips made the display even more memorable. Snapping my fingers, I eased off the bed and shot another two or three pictures. Oh, what a lovely site she made with her sex proudly opened before me just begging for attention.

Sharon had taken on a languid, totally relaxed look as she laid on the bed within her bonds. "No rest for the wicked", I informed her as I used my hands to part her vulva and inserted my tongue. Quickly, I found her clit and began lapping at it like a dog with his water dish. Her body stiffened immediately, attempting to stay as still as possible so that my oral digit could do its job.

"Oh, yes. That's so excellent", she breathed softly. With my tongue now firmly planted, I reversed my previous attack by having my hands caress her chest. In only a few minutes she was once again at fever pitch and with a couple of twists of her nipples and an expert flick of my tongue I once again brought her to climax.

"Oh, God", she moaned as she once again began to relax this last orgasm relinquished its hold upon her. "That was absolutely fantastic. But, I'm exhausted. You'll never be able to get me to come for a third time while I am this tired."

"Oh, ye of little faith", I told her as I went into her closet. I found what I was looking for quickly. Next I search in her bedside table and found her Vaseline. Resuming my place between her legs, I pushed the pillow back so that it was now under the small of her back. She helped me out by holding up her body with widely spread legs bent at the knees.

Coating my index finger with the goey substance, I slid between her gaping panties and found her nether hole. "Eeww", she shivered a bit. "It's cold". Sharon complained as I pushed my digit into her, smearing her ring with the slippery Vaseline. She had expected what was to come next, but I had added at bit of a twist. Instead of the tapered butt plug that she had become used to, I pushed into her anus the thick head of her phallus shaped vibrator.

"Ohhhh, God", she groaned as the tick plastic cock invaded her ass. Her muscular inner walls exuded an incredible amount of pressure as I continued to push the dildo into her. When it was a bit more than half way in and I could see that she could push it out on her own, I twisted the little switch on the bottom.

"Oh my, God", she moaned as her body shook to the simulation. "That feel's so...." Before she could finish her sentence I plunged my own rod into her hot love canal and began pumping her for all that I was worth. "...so GREAT. Oh please, whatever you do don't stooooppp." Her hips flowed into sync with mine as she ate up the sensual vibrations coming from her rear.

Sharon's head rocked from side to side in time to our love-making. Her back arched with me, pulling her wrists and ankles against their restraints. Leg muscles rippled beneath the sheer hose as they fought to support her needs. Her beautifully formed mounds rose and fell seductively to her labored breathing.

I couldn't help but cum, seeing all that loveliness before me. As I continued to thrust my jism into her, she exploded once again. Our juices flowed together, overwhelming her orifice and dripping unto the towel. I bucked my hips in and out of her until every last drop had been emptied from my member.

I smiled as I lifted her sleeping mask from her and pointed towards the clock. With an effort she shifted her head and then giggled, "You bastard you lied." I looked at her quizzically. "You only took 28 minutes!" Once she was unbound we walked arm and arm to the bathroom to clean up. That night she fell asleep unfettered, smiling like a sated cat upon my chest.

Leather & Lace, Co.

Chapter 15 - Adventures in Babysitting

By the White Knight

(Note: Written from Greg's perspective.)

The next day at work I was definitely tired and on top of that I had to incur all of my partner's comments as it appeared that I was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Sharon turned red at these comments, but she smiled none-the-less. Making matters worse she appeared fit as a fiddle causing Lucinda to say, "That something or.... Someone was obviously agreeing with her."

Sharon and Lucinda shared knowing looks and than both glanced at me. "I think I need a cup of coffee", I said as I beat a hasty retreat. When I returned I found Sharon talking enthusiastically to Mike Thatcher. I was just in time to hear her say "... I'll be happy to do it".

"Happy to do what?" I asked.

"Mr. Thatcher's has been planning to take his wife out to the Evening Dinner Theater for weeks and unfortunately their babysitter just called and had to cancel. He was just asking me to call to get a refund on his tickets, but I told him that I'd be happy to watch the kids for the evening."

The smile froze on my face. Having been away for a week, I had had other things in mind then watching a bunch of rug rats for the evening. My lovely partner, though, appeared to be much less selfish than myself. I shrugged inwardly, heck when life hands you a bunch of lemons it's time to make lemon aid.

Looking over at Mike and I gave him my best smile. "Actually, WE would be happy to watch the kids tonight." He visibly sighed and then thanked the both of us profusely. As he walked away Sharon gently touched my face and looked up into my eyes. "That was really kind of you. I'm sure that watching three kids on your second night back in town was not in your plans, but it is so tough for the two of them to get time alone just to be a couple that I couldn't help but volunteer."

"You my dear", I said with a grin, "are much more generous than I. However, that is a wonderful trait to have and I wouldn't want you to feel that you should change it. So we'll pretend that we are teenagers again and go watch the Thatcher's children tonight."

"You're a good man, honey and I promise that I will make it up to you", she said seriously.

"Oh, I not worried about that darling. I'm actually quite good at thinking up ways for you to make it up to me". I bent down and gave her a chaste kiss.

Sharon smiled her brilliant white smile and responded suggestively, "Hmmm, yes and I am definitely looking forward to it!" With that she turned on her heel and returned to work. I went to Harry's office to sit with him for the day and learn how he fit into the organization.

At lunch Harry took me over to the New York Racquet club and signed me up under their company account. That finished, we visited a local deli and picked up some sandwiches and fruit before returning to the office. Harry told me that he liked to work out during lunch and then eat in the office afterwards. That worked for me so I told him that I would probably join him more often than not. The rest of the day passed quickly and Sharon and I were able to leave on time.

I kissed her warmly goodbye as we went to our separate places, her to her apartment and me to my hotel room. I smiled to myself as I thought that this would be the last time that we would ever have to go home separately again. Yesterday night, as we drifted off to sleep, we had agreed that it would be best for me to move into her apartment. It didn't make any sense for me to commute two hours to work each day from my parents home or for me to get my own apartment as we really only needed one. Sharon, ever the practical one, told me to save my money until we found a larger place to call our home. After a shower and a bite to eat, I finished packing my car with all of my belongings, at least those not in storage and checked out.

Arriving at the Thatcher's, shortly before 7:30pm, I was warmly greeted by Samantha. She also thanked me for agreeing to take care of the kids as she walked me into the house. The three kids were sitting at the kitchen table finishing their dinner. "Do you guys remember Uncle Greg", Sam asked the children. The eldest, who was a spitting image of his father, was the only one that shook his head affirmatively. Their middle boy stared at me blankly as he gave me a cautious smile. Their little golden haired angel, Kathleen, spoke up and answered honestly, "No". I smiled at them and then crouched down near the table, so as not to appear quite as large and foreboding. "Well, I remember all of you." I ruffled Kathleen's beautiful blond curly hair and told her, "The last time that I saw you, you were just a wee little baby. And you boys have grown up quite a lot in those five years, my goodness you're getting huge."

Mathias, their middle son, smiled at me from his perfectly innocent face and said, "No, I'm huge, Donny is just getting taller." Sure enough his frame was much larger than his slim elder brother, but he didn't look at all overweight. I laughed with the kids some more until I heard footsteps behind me.

Turning, I found Mike and Sharon standing in the doorway my eyes however were riveted on my lovely partner. She was wearing the fawn colored suede mini skirt and halter-top that we had picked up at dad's company and she looked absolutely stunning. "You, my dear, look simply delicious", I told her as I rose to greet them.

"Why thank you kind sir", she intoned like a southern belle. As we embraced warmly she whispered in my ear, "I told you that I would make it up to you". We saw them off as they gave us all of the normal last minute instructions, police phone number, fire department phone number and the number for the next store neighbor. With their parents gone the kids filed down the basement that had been turned into a large family room.

The Thatcher's had made the room kid friendly, with beanbag chairs, a fluffy couch and a large screen TV. Toys were scattered haphazardly about the place, but the children ran around them as if they weren't even there. With all of this running about I was glad to see that they had wrapped the metal support poles with thick blue leather padding. This plus the wall-to-wall carpeting put my mind at rest that Sharon and I would not end up in the Emergency room due to some unfortunate accident.

I clapped my hands together and called out, "OK guys what should we do first?"

Donny cried out, "Let's play soldiers" as he pulled the trigger on his play gun.

"No, let's play cowboys and Indians', shouted Mathias as he brandished a shinny six-shooter.

Kathleen, sporting a white cowboy hat joined in, "Yeah, cowboys and Indians".

A wicked thought began to form in my mind as I looked over at the lovely lady besides me. "That's a great idea. Why don't you three be the cowboys and Auntie Sharon will be the Indian. Look she's even dressed like Pocahontas", I pointed out.

"Not exactly", said Mathias thoughtfully, "She should be wearing moccasins, not sandals. Mom has some upstairs in the hall closet, I'll go get them." Even before he was finished speaking he was already headed back upstairs. Personally, I thought that her thong style, low heel sandals looked Indian-like, but I suppose children's movies always portrayed Indians in moccasins.

Kathleen was digging into a toy bin and soon cried out triumphantly, "And she needs an Indian hat". She held up an Indian headdress, which sported many tall brightly colored feathers.

Mathias returned with his treasure at the same time that Kate (not Kathleen, as she had just informed me) brought over the headdress. Sharon sat on the couch and replaced her sandals with the proffered beaded footwear, while the little blond put the feathers into her hair.

"OK, what do we do now?" Sharon asked.

Donny piped up. "That's easy, we chase you around the basement and then when we catch you we bring you back here to the fort (he pointed at the couch) where the colonel (he nodded towards me) will tell us what to do with you."

"You're taking a lot for granted", she told the boy with a smile. "You should have said IF you catch me." With that she leapt from the couch and took off running. For a good ten minutes she led the children a merry chase until Donny took the initiative to get the group more organized. Under his leadership they soon had her cornered. In a stroke of genius he sent in his little sister to complete the capture. Sharon breathing heavily from the wild race knew that she could never hurt the little angel's feelings, so she slumped against the wall and calmly accepted her fate.

The three of them each grabbed hold of a hand or arm and led her back to me. Sharon played the part to the hilt, walking with her eyes downcast like she really was a captured squaw. Donny snapped a salute and said, "What should we do with the prisoner, sir?"

"What do you think that we should do with Pocahontas, Captain?" I asked my serious little cohort.

Without a blink or a grin he answered in a military like voice. "I think that we should secure the prisoner, sir."

"Excellent idea, Captain", I smiled mischievously. "And what should we use to tie her up with Lieutenant?" I asked his younger brother.

He looked befuddled for a minute and then he cried out, "the rag bag!" Off he ran without another word being spoken.

"The rag bag?" I asked Donny.

"Actually, it's a pretty good idea, sir. You see Mom rips up old bed sheets and then puts them in a pillowcase so that the maid can use them for cleaning around the house."

Mathias came back with the foretold pillowcase and dropped it by my feet. I reached in and pulled out a handful of bed sheet strips that looked like they hadn't been used yet. The strips were the lengths of the sheet, roughly six feet long, and about four inches wide. Perfect, just perfect, I thought to myself.

"What are you going to do with me, you mean and terrible cowboys", Sharon asked in mock indignation.

"After that outburst I think that we should gag you first", I responded quickly.

Then kneeling next to Kate I asked her, "You think we should gag Pocahontas so she can't make anymore noises... right?" I wasn't sure if she totally understood what I was saying, but with an innocently diabolical little smile she cried out, "Right". I took one of the strips, doubled it over and rolled it up. Standing behind Sharon I held the gag in front of her face, but she refused to open her mouth.

"Now open up like a good captive or we will make you sorry you didn't!" She shook her head in the negative. I was still thinking about how to handle this situation, when all of a sudden she jerked forward and her mouth opened as she gasped for breath. Quickly, I took advantage of the situation and slid the white material between her teeth. As I tied it off tightly behind her neck, I looked over at Donny who was smiling smugly.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Simple. I tickled her. It works on Mathias all the time. Besides she had all that bare skin showing so it just seemed like the right thing to do...sir!"

"Excellent thinking Captain, I could not have done better myself." The boy basked in my praise. Sharon on the other hand was now well gagged, even if it was only a cleave gag like those that you would see in the movies, and she was starting to get a feel for where this 'game' was going.

Brandishing another of the strips I told her, "Now hold out your hands in front of you..." she didn't move at first, attempting to still play the reluctant captive "... or I will have my Captain tickle you again." Slowly she raised her arms, fists clenched. Binding her with the white cloth strips was actually quicker than using rope, as it wasn't necessary to make it look so neat. Also, once I completed tying her wrist together it appeared that they were held as securely as any rope or leather cuff could have made them. She pulled at the bonds, testing them, but as I had suspected they flowed easily with her movements and refused to give her any relief.

"OK, so what should we tie Pocahontas to so that she can't escape?" I asked the children.

Once again Mathias came through as he shouted, "To the post. Standing against the post. That's where we always tie up the Indians."

"Great idea lieutenant", I told the boy "except, I don't think that you've ever captured an Indian this tall before. So maybe we should tie her kneeling next to the post."

His innocent little face screwed up in consternation as he looked over at Sharon. He looked down at her beaded moccasins and then followed her tanned legs upward over her short skirt, stopping a second to peer at her belly button. Then his eyes continued their trek over her protruding breasts and at last lighted on her pretty face, which was marred only by the taut gag in her mouth. By this time he was craning his neck to look up at her.

"Yeah, I think your right", he agreed.

"All right you naughty Indian, over to the post with you" I chided our lovely captive. The children all took total delight in leading her over to the post. The tiny little blond skipped happily along side her brothers until our procession reached its destination.

"OK, Pocahontas, I want you down on your knees", I ordered Sharon, "with your back to the post and your legs straddling it." Despite her bindings, she sank gracefully to floor and then knee walked backward until she had completed my instructions. Moving behind the pole I pulled her ankles together and tied them tightly. The toes of her moccasins dug into the thick carpet as her feet arched themselves to better support her body.

Using another of the strips I tightly tied it around the padded post about two feet above her head. She was looking up at me expectantly so I motioned to her to raise her arms. As they came over her head, I grasped her bound wrists and secured them to this new binding. I looked into those questioning green eyes and smiled. Without the children seeing I placed a little ball in the palm of her hand. Quietly, I told her "if things get to intense for you drop the ball and I'll make sure that everything stops. You know the routine, right honey?"

Sharon nodded head yes. By now I knew she must have been wondering what I had in mind. What could I possibly do to her, in front of the kids that would be so intense that she would need a safety net? Those emerald green eyes continued to look at me until I placed one the strips over them, effectively blindfolding her.

"OK soldiers", I said loudly, "our prisoner is secure, so we can all relax. How about everyone joining me on the couch and we will watch some TV until it's time for bed."

"Actually, Kate should go to bed now", Donny informed me pointing to the clock. He was right it was after eight.

"But, I'm not tired yet", she proclaimed folding her arms in front of her and pouting.

I knelt down in front of the pretty little one and said, "How about we make a deal?" She looked up at me as her frown started to disappear. "I'll let you stay up for one more show, but at 8:30pm it's bedtime and that's that." I held out my hand for her to shake and she smiled at me and put her tiny hand into my big paw.

"Deal", she cried happily.

We all moved over to the couch and sat down. The Simpson's music was just starting, but nothing much was happening yet. "You know Captain our captive was really very naughty, running from you like that. Do you think that we should punish her a bit for being such a bad Indian?"

The TV mesmerized Kate, but both of the boys were looking at me gleefully.

"What did you have in mind, Sir", Donny asked.

I pointed over towards Sharon and their eyes followed my lead. "You see those feathers on her headdress... do you think that perhaps you could find some more of them?" The younger of the two giggled and elbowed his brother. "Oh yeah, she's ticklish... remember."

"I think I can come up with something", said the elder as he stood up and ran over to one of the toy chests. He returned quickly with an old battered headdress, which had obviously seen better days. I took it from him and with a quick twist and pull, yanked out a green feather. A red, blue and yellow one swiftly followed.

Kate now had become aware that something was going on. When she saw the feathers she called out, "I want the yellow one". I handed it to her, saying "shush" to keep her quiet. The show was at a commercial so I waved my arm in an exaggerated follow me and then pressed my finger against my lips to emphasize that we should all be silent. Slowly, on tiptoe, we made our way over to the waiting maiden.

I knelt in front of her and positioned a boy on each side and Kate to the rear. We weren't perfectly quiet of course and Sharon's head pivoted from side to side trying to hear any tell tale noises.

"Now", I cried out and four feathers lunged against her bare skin.

"Oooo... Oooo... Oooo..." she gasped through the gag. Her body bent and twisted as she tired to escape the ticklish assault, but the kids just giggled and pressed on. A green feather tickled her belly button, which she pulled in so quickly that she slammed her back against the post. A red feather tickled her tender ribs causing her to twist violently away from it. With my blue feather I teased her inner thighs, just under her skirt. Sharon simply went crazy, twisting her body from side to side as her hips undulated inwards and outwards from the post. It was like watching a wild tiger trying to escape from the hunters' snare as they poked at it with their sharp spears. She was so sensitive that every touch of the feather had the same effect as if we were sticking her with a hot poker!

Sharon twisted and pulled against her bonds, she screamed through her gag, but all the while she held tight to that little ball. Her knuckles were nearly white, giving testament to her resolve. But, as it sometimes comes to pass, the most innocent can become the most dangerous.

Kate, the cute curly haired little blond, was thoroughly frustrated that her yellow feather wasn't having the same effect on our captive as the rest of us. She yelled to her brother and stamped her foot in complaint. Without stopping his own tickling he responded to her with a few words that I lost in Sharon's moans.

In a few seconds Kate, smiling from ear to ear had pulled off Sharon's first moccasin. Sharon, now understanding what was happening tried to shift her feet from side to side, but the thickness of the post limited her greatly. It was only a matter of time until the grinning child caught up with the final shoe and removed it. Grabbing the feather she flicked it against both of Sharon's soles.

"Oooohhhhh ggggdddddd", she cried through her gag. Arching her entire body forward and pulling on the bonds above her head for support, Sharon pulled up her feet against the post almost to the small of her back. If I hadn't seen it, I would never have believed it. I couldn't imagine anyone being that flexible and strong to achieve such a move.

Bam. The little ball hit me in the chest, bringing me back to reality. "OK, kids the commercial is over", I shouted loudly, "the shows back on, every one back to the couch." Almost magically they lost all interest in tickling their captive, dropping their feathers where they stood they ran off to see the silly cartoon. Sharon let her feet fall back to the ground and sagged in her bonds. Her breathing came as quick gasps through her nose and a fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her arms and chest.

"How are you doing", I asked her quietly.

"Eeeww aann uunneerr ttannd ee ite", she said in between gasps.

"Yes, I can understand you just fine", I answered her honestly.

"Uuurrr aaa ddvvviiosss assttrd", she told me.

I smiled. Yes, I suppose I was a devious bastard, using the children to torture her while she was so helplessly bound. Yes, I decided unrepentantly, I definitely qualified.

"You didn't expect to get off Scott free did you?" She shook her head no. "Do you still love me?" She nodded affirmatively as she continued to gasp for breath. "Do you want to quit?" Surprisingly, she shook her head in the negative.

"Uusst nooo eeet!" She shouted through the white cloth gag.

So at the next three sets of commercials, I let the little angels tickle her to the point of tears, but told them that her feet were off limits. I didn't join back in as I had retrieved my camera from the car and decided to record the event for posterity.

After the show I sent the boys off to their own room to play video games and went upstairs to read Kate a bedtime story. Coming back downstairs, I unbound my lover and took her into my arms. She complained that it was a really rotten thing to do. Especially, knowing how ticklish she was. But, I soothed her by telling her what a good sport she had been and then sweetened the compliment with a present.

"I can not honestly say that I am sorry as this has been way to much fun", I told her softly, "but maybe this will make it all worth while. How about you go home, a little before the Thatcher's get back, and pick out whatever you want to wear tonight. Then you take a few minutes to relax and decide how you want to spend the rest of the evening. Tonight it's ladies choice!"

Sharon lit up like the sun poking through the clouds. She gave me one of her crushing hugs that reminded me just how strong she was and then began alternating between kissing and thanking me. I reveled in her affection and reflected that that those old Beatle songs really had the right idea. The best things in life are free!

Chapter 16 - The Challenge

By the White Knight

(Note: Written from Greg's perspective.)

Arriving at Sharon's apartment I rang the bell. On the trip over I couldn't help but wonder what lovely outfit that she would don for our evening of play. Expectantly I stared at the door, but it didn't open. Trying the bell once more and receiving the same result, I became concerned and decided to check the door to see if it was locked.

The door opened easily to my touch, which raised my level of worry even higher. What if something had happened to her! I called her name as I burst into the apartment, "Sharon, are you all right?"

Racing from room to room, I stopped dead in my tracks when I reached the bedroom and couldn't help but laugh. My lover lay bound upon her bed, complete with gag and blindfold! She hadn't simply done as I had requested, but brought the experience up a notch!

Sharon had adorned herself in a lovely black and gold lace balconette bra and garter belt, but had noticeably forgotten the matching panties. In their place she wore the pseudo-phalluses and straps of her multi-pack stimulator. Her legs were sheathed in black fishnet stockings and her feet arched to fit into her black patent leather pumps, with the gold spiked heel.

The nylon restraints spread her arms towards the appropriate bedpost, but she had not completed her normal spread eagle position. This time she had bound her legs tightly together at both the ankles and knees with her new rope.

Resting on her flawless stomach lay a handwritten note.

Dearest Greg,

You are always trying to make our time together challenging for me, now I would like to repay that favor.

Without removing the vibrator or butt plug, or touching them in anyway, I would like you to make me cum tonight. Please no touching of those areas either. My mouth, as always, is at your disposal to satisfy your own needs.

I hope that this request doesn't keep you up too late!

All my love,
Sharon

Shaking my head I couldn't help but chuckle. "Darling your are the absolute personification of what I see as a true submissive. You anticipate and meet my every desire and at the same time you are not overly dependent upon me to make all of the decisions. You can't seem to get enough of bondage or sex and you even go as far as to challenge me! You my dear are incredible! Simply, Incredible!" I told her and then bent over her and kissed her on the forehead.

"I accept your challenge madam", I said with elan. "But first I must go out to my car to retrieve some of our toys. After that I am sure that I can satisfy even your desires."

I whistled happily as I returned to my wonderful partner. I started to remove her bonds, which resulted in Sharon, pulling against them and yelling into her gag. "Not to worry princess, I've locked and bolted the front door."

"Oooooo." She cried. "Ooooopppp."

"No? Stop?" I asked mystified.

"Ooooo ooouucc uffs", She continued.

"No touch cuffs?" I translated. "Oh, you don't want me to change how you are tied!"

"iiiiittteee" She cried and shook her head in affirmation. (Right!)

This made me laugh again. "Princess, I read your note and no where in it does it specify that I can't change how you're bound." She starts to shake her head from side to side in negation. "Darling, you set boundaries in your own mind, but you never put them in your challenge. You thought that because I found you bound with your legs tightly tied together that I had to except that as part of the rules. People are always doing that, putting limits where they don't exist!"

I returned to unbinding her. Sharon stopped struggling, but it didn't stop her from shouting angrily, "eeaatteerr" through the thick rubber ball.

All of this ball gag talk was beginning to get annoying. I generally find the sounds my lover makes through her gag exciting, but trying have a conversation through one is simply not worth the effort. Reaching behind her head, I unbuckled the gag and removed the ball from behind her widely spread teeth.

"Now, now, now, I am not a cheater", I argued. "In fact I intend to be quite kind about your lapse in specificity." I smiled as her beautiful features relaxed into a contemplative mode. "You said that I wasn't allowed to touch your two nether areas, but I could easily spank your fine cheeks without doing that. And we both know from experience that a spanking, plus those dildo's sticking in you, would definitely get you off, …but that would be too easy."

"Now you be a good princess and do as your told. Comprende?" I asked her as I removed her gag.

"Yes, master", she answered softly.

“Hmmm”, I hummed appreciatively. “That sounds delicious coming from your lips princess. But I thought that you liked calling me ‘my lord’ and that you didn’t like being called ‘slave’. What’s changed your mind?”

"Oh, I still don't like to be called a slave", she answered quickly. "I do love being your personal love slave. I even like the way it sounds in my mind. The word has such negative connotations when it is spoken." Her fluffy golden hair swirled about her as she shook her head. "Slave sounds like I'm your property or that in someway I am being forced into doing something. The way that I see it I am your willing submissive, but calling me `sub' or `submissive' doesn't sound very exciting, so if you must use the term slave I would really appreciate it if your referred to me as your love slave." I nodded my agreement and she continued.

"As for calling you Master versus my lord though, doesn't really make a difference to me. I like it when your being masterful and strong… besides, I've seen how your lower `head' reacts when I call you Master… so why not?"

"Why not indeed", I responded. "With all this thinking that you have been doing have you come up with a suggestion for your slave… um, excuse me your love slave name?" I had told her that I would chose one for her myself last week, but that I would take her request into consideration.

"Yes, I have", she replied brightly. "I would like to be called baby."

"Baby?" I asked.

"Yes, with a small "b". You could call it a sub-b", she said with a smile. "You've called me that a few times when we were playing and the tenderness in your voice when you say it… it makes me feel like I'm yours… heart and soul. Hmmm, it gives me goose bumps just thinking about it." She scrunched her face and shrugged her shoulders in an indescribably cute way. "Besides you can call me baby in public and no one but you and I would know that it is the name by which you unleash my darker side."

I kissed her full on the lips and told her softly, "You never cease to surprise me darling. So be it your love slave name shall be baby."

By now she was completely untied, although still blinded by the silk night mask. I placed a collar about her long shapely neck and attached a leash to it, as I lead her on a hands and knee walk upon the bed. As we started a second circuit of the bed and seeing her blindly looking towards me in a questioning manner, I figured that an explanation was in order. "The first time around was just so good, I had to go for two. I just love watching your sexy body move", I told her. Sharon tossed her head sending her long hair flying and then really spiced it up by acting and like a tiger on the prowl.

I finally lead her to the end of the bed and stopped her there. "Now baby I want you to kneel, with your back straight not sitting on your haunches." Sharon complied, moving into a straight backed kneeling position with her legs spread at the knees about eighteen inches apart. "Good, now edge your way up a bit. Don't worry I'll stop you before you fall off." I held her hand as she shimmied forward.

"What now, master", Sharon asked with a smile as she licked her tempting lips.

"Hold your wrists out in front of you so that I can put on some of our new cuffs", I told her. I reached for the cuffs, but never took my eyes off of her lips. She was playing with me licking her lips and wagging her tongue and I was enjoying every minute of it. Raising her hands, she held them out like they were holding on to a hose and then she mimicked pumping and squeezing it.

"I'm sure that you can find something useful for my hands to do, master", she teased me.

"Oh, I am absolutely sure that I could", I told her with a chuckle. "But, that would simply be distracting me from your challenge now wouldn't it?"

"Pooh", she said petulantly as a frown formed upon her lovely face.

I wrapped the first cuff around her wrist. "I think that you're going to like these, baby", I told her. "They are lined with soft fleece, which I am told make's for a much more comfortable fit."

"Hmmm, yes they do feel very nice", she said as she used her free hand to push and pull at the tightly buckled cuff. "Interesting, there is hardly any give at all."

"There is still some give, as I don't want to cut off your circulation", I informed her. "But, the fleece does allow me to buckle them tighter than other cuffs." With both wrists now cuffed she looked like she was wearing a set of thick leather bracelets with chrome buckles and rings. I placed another set of cuffs about her ankles and added a final set just above her knees.

I watched Sharon as her fingers felt each of the restraints in turn and then smiled blindly towards me. "Hmmm, guess my little challenge has caused you to call in the big guns, eh master?

I laughed as I began threading nylon ropes into the various D-rings on her cuffs. "Actually, I have had to modify my plans for this evening", I told her as I tied each wrist to the opposite bedpost, "but, it was always my intention to use these cuffs tonight. Since Dad's company makes them, I've grown up around leather restraints all of my life, so I really didn't want to wait any longer to see you in them." While I finished this explanation, I used the knee cuffs to bind each of her legs to their respective post and added a binding between her legs to hold them about a foot and a half apart. As I began binding her ankles to the headboard posts I added, "And you do look very sexy in your new leather jewelry."

Sharon wiggled her feet. "How about how great these heels look on me", she asked. "Black patent leather pumps with a six inch spiked heel these have to be your favorites!"

"Thanks for reminding me of something baby and yes, they do look absolutely fabulous on you", I replied. Using another piece of cord I created a nylon stir-up holding the lovely pump tightly against her highly arched soles. As I worked a thought popped into my head. "If you were dressing yourself, simply to make yourself happy, what would you have been wearing when I arrived tonight?"

"This", she replied without hesitation as she smiled around her blindfold.

"No, I mean…" I began, but she cut me off.

"I think I know exactly what you mean, Master. The fact is that that making you happy makes me happy. Your words, your actions and especially your eyes make me feel sexy, sensual and just plainly put… special." She cocked her head as if listening for something. "I can't see your eyes, but I get shivers when I think of how they are devouring my nearly naked and helplessly bound body. Hmmm", she murmured happily, "I'll bet you're in need of a bit of relief just about now."

I chuckled as my member did another push up against the front of my pants. "I think that you've bewitched me you little vixen. Either that or you can see around that blindfold." She laughed along with me, nodding her head knowingly.

"Since you have been so naughty as to block up both of your other orifices, I will take you up on your offer and use your mouth."

"Mmmm, yummy", she said licking her lips and smiling even wider. "Master, use me like you did last night. That was a really wild ride for me and I know that you loved it!"

I lowered my trousers, dropped my shorts and wasn't at all surprised when my cock popped to attention. She was obviously referring to when I had held her head in both hands and literally "fucked" her face. Thinking of this caused my cock to spring upwards and got me so hard that it almost hurt. "It will be my pleasure", I said just a bit huskily. "But I have just one little accessory to add to the party first. I cupped her firm breasts that were held up proudly by her half-cup bra and began playing with her nipples. In seconds they responded to my touch forming those hard little bullets that I so love to play with.

"Oooohhhhhh", she moaned softly as I slowly released the pressure of the clamp onto her right nipple. Sharon gasped as I let go of the clamp allowing the twin weights suspended by a silver chain to dangle freely.

"Mmmmmmm", she moaned as the second one bit into her tender flesh. She bit her lip for a few seconds and then smiled angelically as her body adjusted to these new demands. "Hmmm, yummy", Sharon purred happily. "Do you like how they look on me master?"

"Very much", I replied easily.

"Then you will probably love this!" With that said she shook her breasts from side to side causing the weights to swing and pull at the clamps latched onto the end of her nipples. "Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow…" she cried out as the smile was wiped off her face. She stopped her shaking and held her body as rigid as possible, the weights continued to swing and slap at her rib cage and stomach, but they slowed down quickly. "What are you doing… sticking me with pins…master?" She asked plaintively.

Smiling I raised the sleep mask over her eyes, letting it rest on her forehead. Her eyes looked down below her chest.

She looked back up at me and smiled. "Getting inventive again are we master?"

Below each of her breasts dangled two balls adorned with spikes. They looked very much like a smaller version of the balls used on the old-fashioned flail weapons. The spikes weren't sharp enough to actually penetrate her skin, but I'm sure that it didn't feel that way to her.

"I used these little puppies in one of the last films that I made and I was astounded at the impact that they had on the actress. She had been in the game for years and thought that she had seen everything, but these little babies woke her up real quickly!"

"I can imagine why", Sharon replied dryly. Shimming her breasts a bit more slowly and carefully, she set the weights in motion once more. The clips held doggedly to her distended nipples as the balls swung gently from side to side. Despite her care, every so often one of the spiked balls would graze her ribs or bounce off her upper stomach. She raised her closed eyes to the ceiling as she drank in the feelings. Smiling now she licked her lips suggestively.

"Hmmm, it feels so good", she said in a soft husky voice. "It's as if someone is sending electrical pulses from my breasts straight to my sex and unfortunately there is nothing there to further stimulate me except a lifeless dildo."

"I suppose I could turn it on, but that would violate the terms of your challenge", I taunted her.

"Tempting master, but your not going to get off that easily", Sharon replied with that same sexy voice. She continued her slow sensuous swaying as she once again opened her eyes that twinkled at me. She lowered her emerald greens to look at my hardened rod, which stood out straight and stiff. "Obviously, you enjoy having me completely at your mercy, so speaking of getting off…"

Laughing I accepted her offer by taking her head into both of my large hands and pressing forward. My pole spread her lips like a knife cutting through butter. Her questing tongue darted around my pole as I relentlessly pushed deeper and deeper into her warm inviting mouth. Sharon was soon rewarded for her efforts as the head off my cock slid to a halt in the back of her throat and my bristly pubic hair formed a mustache and beard upon her lovely face. I held her there for a few seconds, which probably seemed like a few minutes to her, but I wanted to look at the whole scene that I had created. My beautiful lover was leaning so far forward that the only thing keeping her from falling flat on her face were the taut restraints that bound her wrists to the tall bed posts. The spiked balls banged lightly against my legs, but were defeated by the denim material of my pants.

I pushed her head backwards till her back was nearly straight then pulled her forward once again. Soon I had my luscious cock sucker moving up and down my rod at a pretty good clip. All the while I looked down at the spectacle before me. I watched as her shinny full lips spread widely about my engorged member as it pounded into her. Below her mouth and my rod were her firm shapely breasts with there attendant clips. With each deep throat the spiked balls swung forward to bounce harmlessly off my pants. Upon each reverse motion, that left only the tip off my member in her mouth to be tantalized by her tongue, I saw her wince as the spikes slapped against her unprotected flesh.

Her technique was perfect, despite all of the distractions that I had prepared for her. Never once did she scrape me with her teeth, or miss the opportunity to swirl her lively tongue about my grateful head. My cock jumped like it had a mind of its own and I could feel the drops of pre-cum seeping from my enflamed member. I knew my time was short. Pulling back, I left only a few inches in her moist cavern, which gave me a great view of her blowing me and the exciting balls dangling below her marvelous chest. Sharon alternated sucking and teasing me with her talented tongue, until I could take no more. I exploded in great spurts into her mouth. She gulped noticeably at first and some of the milky white substance seeped from the corners of her lips, but soon she was swallowing it down as fast as I could pump it out.

As my orgasm ebbed, I began moving her head up and down my rod once more. The lovely view excited me to new levels and my cum flowed on. Sharon sucked it all in until my river ran dry. As I released her head she leaned forward and gave me a sexy tongue bath, removing the last hints of the white jism from my member.

Licking her lips like a satisfied feline who had just been fed she smiled up at me. "Salty", she commented as she ran her tongue about her lips. "The last few times you've had me blow you, you were so far into me that it just went straight down my throat and I really didn't taste much of it. This time I could taste each and every drop as it slid down my tongue."

"Say, thank you", I said to her with a smile.

"For what master?" she asked.

"For your desert, of course, baby!" I replied.

Sharon smiled brightly, "Thank you master, for my desert. It was yummy!"

"Now it's your turn baby", I said as I finished buckling my pants and reached down into the bag at my feet. Sharon smile faded as I held up a large yellow feather, directly from our encounter earlier this evening.

"No, Greg, please", she shakes her head as her eyes never leave the bright yellow feather. "No tickling… please…"

"Hush now", I told her softly. "And you should always address me as master during a session… not by my name." I lightened the admonition with a smile, but she never saw it as her eyes followed the feather. I laid it on the bed next to her leg. She shivered in anticipation and edged her nylon-sheathed gam as far away from the offending item as she could within her bonds.

Sitting upon the bed, I gripped her right six-inch heeled pump and slid it off her foot. Its mate followed in seconds. Her feet flexed prettily in their stockings, as she unconsciously stretched her abused arches. She continued to shake her pretty head as her eyes stared at the brightly colored feather. I rose from the bed and walked in front of her once again. "Time for lights out princess", I said as I lowered her blindfold back into place.

"Please, master" she pleaded. "No more tickling. I can't take anymore tonight… please, master… please…"

I ignored her pleas and dug into my bag to pull forth a new bean bag gag. She had told me how comfortable the one was that my father and Mr. Thatcher had used on her so I had made sure to pick up a couple. Her lips opened as I pressed the gag against them and in seconds those luscious lips were spread widely about the black leather bag. Smiling I watched her body tense as tight as a bowstring as I once again sat on the bed. My terror tactics had worked even better than I could ever have expected. All I had to do now was pull that string and let the arrow fly… and the tight little body of hers would burst!

I left the feather to lie unheeded upon the bed and slowly… gently… agonizingly… ran my finger tips up her leg. From the crook of her ankle around and about her knee and up her firm sexy thigh.

"MMMMMmmmmmmmmm" she moaned contentedly from behind the mouth-filling gag. Sliding between her legs, I doubled my efforts, using both hands to trace little circles and waves upon her nylons as my fingers gently played their way up towards higher ground. My hands moved to the sides of her thighs. My gentle caresses sliding deep into her waist and around her taut stomach and back muscles. Her body shivered once again, but no longer in fear! This time her shiver was pure lust!

Questing fingers slid beneath her breasts and pressed lightly against the smooth satin of her bra. Slowly they lifted to touch soft naked flesh and eventually found their way to the chrome clips locked upon her tender nipples. Sharon groaned as I gently played with the clamps and the tips of her distended nipples.

Sliding my hands back down her body, only touching her with the light caresses of my finger pads… I began to work my way back between her legs. I gently slid up and down the inside of her thighs, enjoying the sexy feel of her nylons, their lace tops and her delicious tender skin. Her body leaned back against mine as her hips began to dance to my touch.

"Oh my", I said softly. "This caressing is thought to be tickling by some people… maybe I should stop?"

"OOOoooooo. Eeeessseee aaassstttrrr, Ooooo." Sharon begged through her gag as her breathing became more and more rapid.

I stopped my ministrations and admonished her, "First it's please, master, please don't tickle me and now it's it Please master don't stop…." Her hips were still bucking in mid-air searching for my hands and using the dildo's stuck into her to their greatest effect. Oh, I do love it when a plan "cums" together… and I very much love having her do most of the work for me to win the bet!

"Hmph… it's I good thing that I love you", I said as I once again began to caress her body. She was gyrating so wildly now within her bonds that keeping my touches soft was no longer possible. I kneaded the skin between her thighs and watched the swing of the spiked balls on her clamps have their own sensuous effect on my lover. Before I knew it she was thrashing against the ropes and cuffs as she came closer and closer to orgasm. Reaching down I picked up the feather and now gently ran it down her back… her whole body stiffened to the touch and then as if on command she exploded!!!!

It was amazing to watch her body jerk fluidly to each wave of pleasure that dashed through her. To me it looked almost as if she were doing an erotic dance. Swaying to the left and backwards, then the right and finally letting her body fall forward… only being held in place by her bonds. All the while she moaned through the mouth filling gag in time with her body's movements.

"Uuugggrrrrhhhh", she groaned as the last bit of her orgasm finally ebbed. Sharon loosely held her body upright, but the rigid posture of before was now a mellow thing of the past. "OW. OW" she moaned languidly as I removed her nipple clamps. I smiled to myself as I knew that she must be unusually sated, as removing those clamps generally causes a much more dramatic response then a mere `OW'.

Once I removed her gag, she smiled brightly and said in a slow sensuous drawl, "Thank you master."

With her bonds and blindfold removed I looked deeply into her twinkling eyes. "Now I want you to go wash up and then come back to bed. Leave the stockings on, but change into a baby doll and here take these…" I said as I handed her a hand made pair of satin slippers. "Cassy, has these custom made and she swears that they are the most comfortable slippers in the world. You'll also wear these tonight and of course any other night that I request it."

She rubbed the soft gold slippers against her cheek. Her ash blond locks had fallen over one eye as she replied happily, "It will be my pleasure master".

I slapped her on her saucy butt and commanded, "Off with you then, I'm exhausted and can use a good night of sleep… so do not keep me waiting." With a little sexy `Ew' from my slap she jumped from the bed and set about her tasks.

While she did that I cleaned up all of our toys and put them neatly back into my bag. Her heels slid into one of the empty cubbies in her closet. As I turned from hanging up my pants and shirt, there was Sharon sliding silently under the covers. She wore a gold chemise with a black bow just under her breasts. Together with the black stockings and gold slippers the lady made an incredibly beautiful site. Sharon saw what I held in my hands as I sat down besides her. I was going to command her to raise her wrists, but before I could get the words out she was holding them out in front of her. She smiled sexily as she purred, "Whatever master wants".

I chuckled and put the wrist cuffs on each wrist. She opened her mouth eagerly to accept her new bean bag gag and finally winked at me prior to my buckling a matching fleece lined leather blindfold into place. "Now lay on your side an put your hands behind you back."

In seconds her wrist cuffs were linked together at the juncture of the small of her back. Turning out the lights I slid naked besides my love. Her body was bent in such a way that it was a perfect fit for me to spoon her. She nestled into my warm body and I settled down to sleep. Exhaustion quickly began to steal over me… and then I felt something softly rubbing my leg. It didn't rouse me out of my near sleep induced funk, but the feel of her satin sheathed foot sliding up and down my leg had my `lower head' standing to attention all on his own! As my member popped up, it slammed right into Sharon's bound hands. She grabbed me and took hold of my hardening member. Within seconds she was pumping me as her feet continued to play with my legs.

Part of my weary mind wondered where she learned to jerk someone off with her hands bound behind her back… but my lower head cared little and merely went with the flow. The thought of her presenting herself to me in her sexy lingerie and allowing herself to be bound helplessly… was like fire, fueling my desire. But it was the sight of those hands of hers working tirelessly behind her back, with her wrists bound inescapably in the black leather cuffs, that sent me over the top.

My cum shot out like a rocket! The first burst made a lovely milky design in her golden wavy tresses. The next splattered like molten metal upon the smooth skin of her tanned back. The third covered the back of her gold chemise. Sharon moaned happily as she continued to pump me for every last drop. The thick goo slowly began to cascade down her hands as my eruption ebbed.

I groaned in pleasure as my lust turned to loving thoughts for the gorgeous creature who lay besides me. She who accedes happily to my every request, to the point that I never feel the need to demand anything from her. That deliciously devious mind is such a perfect match to my own that she seems to know what I want, sometime even before I do! What a wonder my little wench is… the perfect sex partner… the perfect bondage partner… the perfect…

My train of though was interrupted as Sharon tried to talk through the beanbag gag, but unlike the ball gags, it was tougher to understand what she was saying. So I unbuckled it and let it rest about her neck.

"Please master, unbind my hands", she asked hastily. At this point I was definitely in the mood to see things her way, so without question I did so. In a few seconds she had rolled to face me and began a feline type of licking upon her cum covered hands. She made quite a show of it, with those sparkling eyes looking up at me as she sensuously sucked and licked her fingers clean. Then she put her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply. Laying her head on my chest she said softly, "Thank you master".

I knew that we would have to clean up soon, but I couldn't help but stare at her angelic face. She lay resting on my naked chest, her eyes closed and her lips spread in a contented smile. The fingers of one of her hands made small lazy circles around and over my stomach muscles.

God, she's so beautiful… so happy that her efforts have pleased me… so perfect. My thoughts went back too earlier. Sharon was my perfect sex partner, my perfect bondage partner… my perfect mate! The realization hit me like a thunderbolt and my eyes popped open in wonder.

Together we were like two peas in a pod. Or put another way it was like we were of one soul split in heaven into male and female parts. The proverbial yin and yang or as Tom Cruise put it in that silly movie "You complete me". Silly or not, it was the truth.

As my thoughts slowed, I smiled, as my path became clear. The decision was already made in my heart, now all I had to do was find the best way to ask the lovely lady to marry me.

Chapter 17 – Always Thinking

By the White Knight

(Note: Back to Sharon's perspective)

The alarm went off in my apartment as it did every day, but as I shifted to turn it off I realized that the time was reading 6:30am versus the normal 7:00am.

"Did you change the alarm, honey", I asked over my shoulder.

In seconds I felt his warm hands moving through my hair, his body sliding neatly against my own and his lips planting gentle kisses up the side of my neck. "Hmmm, yes baby", he answered between kissing and sensuously licking my throat. "I thought we might enjoy a more intimate workout before we move on to our regular morning workout".

"That's one thing that I love about you", I responded as I turned my body into his, "You're always thinking!" As I leaned towards him, with my eyes closed and lips pursed… SLAP. His hand landed with a crack on my rear. My eyes popped open in surprise and a startled "OW" escaped my lips.

"Bathroom break first baby", he smiled at my reaction as he jumped out of bed. "You really don't want to taste my morning breath". By the time I reached the bathroom he was already brushing his teeth and I wasn't surprised to note that his toilet kit was already neatly stowed in one of my many shelf cubbies. As he moved into the little side room that held the toilet, I went through my own morning rituals.

As my eyes began to become adjusted to the glaring lights in the bathroom, I smiled as I looked myself over. Last night after our second round I had ended up having to change my outfit. So this morning found me wearing a bright scarlet baby doll that barely covered my sex, which was probably a good thing in that I wasn't wearing any panties. This gown also had under wire support in the cups that pushed my healthy chest upwards and together displaying a host of cleavage. I played a bit with the red ribbon bow, tied just below the center of my chest, knowing that its only purpose was to draw more attention to my sexily contained mounds. My legs were sheathed in shear nude stockings that shimmered in the morning light and were topped by red lacy elastic tops. On my feet were the gold satin slippers that I had worn all night long. Greg loved the feel of them against his legs and sometimes when I stirred in the middle of the night, I would roll up against him and give him a caress or two with the sexy slip-ons before sliding back off to sleep.

Done with straightening my hair and brushing my teeth I headed back to bed with a spring in my step. My bed had a man in it! Not just any man… but my new found love, my lord and my Master!

As I slid into the embrace of his arms I smiled, thinking that this was so much better than waking up alone in the morning! Our mouths joined and I sucked his questing tongue deep into my mouth, reminding him what awaited him anytime that he wished to use it. Soon his kisses became more ardent and his left hand began alternating between cupping my breast and tweaking my nipple. The pinch to my nipples was like waving a red flag in front of my sex, which his digits soon realized as they migrated to my already moist lower lips. Matching his passion with my own, I lowered my hand slowly down his chest until it found its way to his rod. I was a bit surprised to feel how hard he was in such a short time, but then again I guess that I shouldn't have been considering how wet he was finding me! We rubbed each other in tandem as our lips continued their dance. Shortly though Greg was ready and his gentle hands helped roll me onto my back before he plunged into me.

Plunge is exactly what he did. I had barely had time to raise my knees and plant both of my feet against either side of his buttocks, before he had entered and then pushed his entire manhood into me. I gasped slightly as this still thrilled me every time he did it. My previous boyfriend hadn't been quite so well endowed as Greg so when he dove into me I really felt it! It was such a wonderful feeling, to feel that fullness down there that I almost came instantly. Darn, I was getting distracted again and I had almost forgotten!

"Master, can I please cum now?" I asked in a small pleading voice. Greg had told me that asking to cum was the proper thing to do for one such as myself.

"Yes, baby, you can cum as many times as you like", he breathed softly just before his teeth bit down on my earlobe.

"Oh, God", I groaned happily as the pain of his bite unleashed the orgasm that had been building in me. The wave surged through my body, which bucked against him driving him even deeper into me. My whole body arched and Greg stopped at the peak of his deepest penetration, until the wave passed and my hips lowered themselves back onto the smooth sheets. He resumed his pumping and my coos and moans of excitement seamed to spur him on. Even as the glow of contentment seeped into my being, my excitement grew as he changed his thrusts. Shallow and quick they came rubbing my clit like a second set of hands.

"Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my God", I said startled as my second orgasm began to build even before the first had ended. Greg being such a quick study now began to suck and nip at my neck. "Oh GOD", I moaned loudly. No one before, had found this connection between me being nipped and my orgasms. But he had immediately linked the nipping of my lobe to my first orgasm and now he was intent on pushing me to my next.

Greg growled into my ear like a tiger tearing into his latest feast as he kissed, licked and nipped at my tender throat. My hands pulled at his hips driving him further into me. With a chuckle he responded to my request and began deeply impaling me once again. My second orgasm burst over me like a tempest. Involuntary muscle contractions caused me to twitch and buck against his body. It took awhile longer for this one to ebb, as Greg gave me less time to rest than last time.

As the warmth of the second spread throughout my happy frame, I had my first thought of Greg's own needs. Slowly, the thought seeped into my foggy brain that he should have come by now. He had been going a good ten minutes and though I hadn't had all that many boyfriends, the ones that I had generally never lasted this long. Before I could finish my thinking he changed his motions once again.

"Oh, God", I groaned in disbelief. He was shifting his hips from right to left by flexing his legs in unison with his hips. It was as if someone had put a mixer inside of my sex and it felt incredibly good. The only time that I had ever felt anything like this was when I had tried one of my girl friends vibrators at college on a dare. That one had a head that rotated within me just like Greg's cock was doing. But what that plastic creation could not do was provide the human warmth. That plus the fact that the bottom of his rod was rubbing right up against my clit excited me to new heights. BOOM. His teeth once again sank into my earlobe setting off another orgasm.

Again my body bucked beneath his as it responded to this latest sexual explosion. After he paused in tune with my latest body stretching "O" Greg switched from the mixer motion back to long slow plunges. He was sliding in and out of me much more easily now that I had greased his rod for the third time. I tried to offset this by gripping him even tighter with the muscles in my lower mouth, but found that I was barely able to control them. I had always prided myself with the fact that I could grip a guy as tightly with my sex as I could with my hand, but now that those muscles had been rocked for the third time they weren't responding in their normal fashion.

This didn't seem to upset my lord and Master who continued to thrust in and out of me. It took him awhile, but sure enough he brought me back to the brink once more. As my heavy breathing announced my excitement he again began sucking, licking my neck and nipping at my lobes. Again it was like flicking a switch and my fourth orgasm of the morning overtook me.

I bucked and thrust myself into him for all I was worth and slowly, slowly, my excitement ran its course. Greg's plunges slowed in tune with me, until finally a giggle of happiness escaped my lips. He lay on top of me for sometime, still embedded within me, as both of our breathing returned to normal. With a last kiss to my ear, he whispered "grand slam" before he rolled off of me.

Rolling up onto his chest, I tiredly asked, "Thank you Master, but what about you? Why didn't you cum?"

"Cum, baby?" He said with a chuckle. "Cum and deny you of your morning protein drink. Never happen!"

I smiled. Of course I was supposed to wake him with a blow job every morning. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten. Especially since it was a job I whole heartedly loved as I was very orally oriented. Despite my near exhaustion I perked up immediately, "Oh, of course Master. It's the least I can do for you!" With an enticing flick of my hair I added, "Perhaps, I could enhance the experience for you, Master." Greg cocked up one eyebrow questioningly. "Maybe you would like it if I put on my red satin opera gloves and my new red patent leather six inch pumps."

Understanding dawned across his face. "Oh, yes, baby, I would like that very much."

It was as if my tiredness passed in a flash as I leapt from our bed and retrieved my pumps and gloves. I bounced happily into the bathroom to repair my makeup and slide into my new accoutrements. Working quickly, I soon was giving myself a last once over in the mirror. My ruby red lips and white teeth gleamed back at me as I smiled at my reflection. I was dressed and made up like a high priced hooker… and I loved it! I knew that it would turn Greg on and besides I truly loved being what he liked to refer to as his `beck and call girl'.

My heels clicked on the bathroom tiles as I returned to my lover. My smile turned into a frown of consternation as I found the bed empty.

"Greg?" I called uncertainly.

"Out here doll in the living room", he called.

I teetered in my huge heels across the thick carpet of the bedroom. It was necessary to keep my weight centered over my toes, but at the same time this made it difficult to keep my ankles straight. The pumps gave me a bit more support due to the ankle strap, but the plush floor covering still caused me to grasp pieces of furniture or nearby walls for support.

I sighed as I reached the more tightly woven carpet in the living room. I posed in the door way to hide the fact that I was actually regaining my balance as I looked about the room for Greg. There he was sitting in my large comfortable winged chair. It was one of the central pieces of the room. Even when I brought it I had always had in mind that it would be "His" chair. Yet, old what-his-name had never even given it a second glance. My smile widened as I looked at him sitting there regally as if he had been there all his life.

I noticed that one of the large pillows from the couch was placed on the floor in front of him, so I steadied myself and sashayed over to him. As gracefully as I could while trapped in my six inch heels I lowered myself to kneel before him on the floor. Placing my satin sheathed hands onto his knees I looked up into his shinning eyes and asked, "Is this what you had in mind Master?"

"Just about baby", he said with a grin. "But, I thought that we would take it up a notch." With that he held up a blindfold and a number of pre-cut pieces of rope.

"Hmmm", I purred. "That's what I love about you Master… you are always thinking!"

The soft leather blindfold went on first. I shivered in an excitement in anticipation as my feeling of helplessness grew. He had me hold out my arms in front of me and I soon felt his rope looping about my wrists. Greg finished with cinching the center of their coils between my palm to palm facing wrists. Moving behind me he lifted my legs to slide a coil of rope about them and in moments my ankles were also linked inexorably together.

I jerked a bit in surprise as I felt Greg lift the hem of my baby doll. "I suggest that you brace yourself on the chair with your hands baby", he said without explaining further. Searching in front of me blindly, I found the chairs cushioned seat and grasped it. I felt the soft rope slide about my waist and grunted it bit as he pulled it taut. The end of the rope seemed to be centered just below my navel, which he held tight with one hand while he passed the twin trailing ends between my legs. His fingers expertly slipped those ends under the tight rope at the center of my back.

I gasped as he pulled upon the rope burying it against my sex and into the crack of my ass. So Master wanted me in a crotch rope I thought to myself. As my body assimilated these new and exciting feelings nothing could have prepared it for his next assault. With one strong hand he lifted my bound ankles off the floor and raised them higher and higher until they nearly touched my thighs. I held on tightly to the chair, holding myself upright as I balanced my body on my knees. The rope loosened slightly as he slid it between my bound ankles… but then it happened.

BAM! He let go of my ankles and now the only thing supporting them in their upright position was the rope. "Oh my God", I groaned as the soft nylon turned into taut cables that seemed to be intent on splitting me in two! I've always prided myself on my high pain tolerance but this was entirely new and it took me a while to ride the pain down until it became merely extremely uncomfortable.

"Ah, there we are", Greg intoned as he finished binding my ankles to my crotch rope. "You're ankles have pulled a bit further away from your legs than I would have liked, but other wise it is quite an acceptable job."

"I'm glad that you are pleased Master", I said as pleasantly as I could manage. I felt him step over me and seat himself in front of me leaving me in no doubt as to what was required of me. As he settled himself into a comfortable position my mind ran through the gymnastics that would be involved. I had just about gotten it worked out when Greg exclaimed, "Damn".

"What's wrong Master?" I asked.

"It's your heels. They are hidden behind your back and I can't get a good look at them", he responded instantly. Realizing that I didn't know what he was talking about he continued, "When I was a producer this would be one of my favorite shots. But I could always see all of the action from behind the camera, now that I'm in the center of the shot, I can't see one of my favorite parts. Your feet bound into those amazing spike heel pumps!"

I thought quickly and then asked, "Would a mirror help, Master?"

"A mirror?" he repeated.

"Yes, I've that oval full length mirror in my bedroom. I'm sure that you could tilt it to whatever position strikes your fancy Master", I continued confidently.

A gust of wind brushed my hair as I felt him literally leap over me. "What a wonderful idea baby… and you say that you love me because I'm always thinking! I must say that you are holding up your end of the brain trust quite well!"

I preened at his compliment, but was even happier to realize that it was true we truly did make a perfectly matched team. The creaking of the mirror titling and the sounds of something being shifted on the carpet greeted my ears. Then in seeming seconds he was pushing my body from the shoulders away from the chair so he could once again sit.

"Oh, ummmm", I moaned softly. His moving me about like that had caused my legs to shift and with them the twin rope running through my pussy lips. Every woman loves their clit to be rubbed and personally I like mine rubbed hard. This was simply an incredible feeling. I can't even call it rubbing it was more like a narrowly focused heavy pressure, but no matter what you call it the effect was one of sending shivers down my spine and deep into my sex.

"Perfect, baby", he said as he settled himself. "Now I can see both your gorgeous face as you blow me and your tightly bound legs and heels all at the same time! Please proceed."

"Certainly, Master, as soon as I find you", I replied with a smile. I let my forearms rest on the cushion as I used my bound hands to search for his member. I soon found him and was not surprised to see that he was still as hard as a rock. While my red satin sheathed fingers played with his pole, I began to slowly sensuously lick and suck on his tender ball sacks. I heard him groan in contentment and felt him jump in my hands as I sucked one of his balls all the way into my mouth. I gave him a few good minutes of this treatment which found him squirming and groaning to the delicious pressure that I was exerting on his balls.

I left his succulent sacks to search for a more rewarding portion of his manhood. Slowly I licked my way up his pole. Partly bringing it to me with my hands and partly leaning forward even further as I slid further up his member. From the micro jerks that his hardened rod was making on its own I could easily sense his excitement. The thought that his excitement stemmed from having me bound helpless to his will before him made me smile as I performed for my loving Master. The pre-cum drops that I tasted as I pursed my lips to `kiss' his head assured me that my efforts were more than merely pleasing.

"My, my, my", Greg moaned softly. "What an absolutely beautiful picture. Everything is so perfect, even the way that the elastic strap of your blindfold pulls your long locks tightly against your head is wonderful. I look down upon your beautiful face and can watch as that lovely pink tongue of yours swirls around the capped head of my organ. Just a little lower I can feast my eyes on your tightly bound wrists. Mmmm, the coils of white rope look so inviting upon your red satin gloves. Oh, yes, and those lovely full breasts! They're standing so tall and tight that they just make me want to bend down and bury my head in them. Of course the best part of all is the knowledge that your crotch rope is digging deep into your sex. With your bound ankles swaying back and forth as your body moves while you blow me pulling those cords tighter and tighter. In fact the rope is so taut coming from the small of your back that it is actually lifting up the hem of you baby doll. It is simply amazing."

"Point your toes baby", Greg said in his command voice. "No slacking off just because you are somewhat distracted." I complied briskly. I willed my muscles to point my toes towards the back of my head in order to truly please my ever demanding lover. "Lovely, just, lovely" he moaned happily. The mirror lets me see the wonderful arch of your feet set into the tight confines of those cherry red pumps topped off with the lovely white nylon coils binding your ankles together." His body stiffened and he moaned "Oh my Lord… wow!"

I had maneuvered myself into just the right position and in one lunging motion I let the weight of my own body force his enflamed rod through my mouth and deep into my throat. Sucking like an out of control vacuum cleaner I lifted my head up off of his member. Do to my Master's intricate bondage I was forced to literally push my entire body away from the chair, so as to accomplish my task. I snorted down a laugh as I thought what an interesting work out video this would make.

"Ladies, looking to tone those flabby upper arms and work out your loose upper abs, then try our new bound blow job work out. Guaranteed to get those muscles in shape and please your significant other all at the same time!" I could just hear the announcer's voice in my mind and picture all those males all over the world with their eyes glued to the screen and their fingers pushing the buttons on their phones.

Laughing and blow jobs simply don't mix and I had to force my thoughts back to exciting my lover. Of course this wasn't as easy as it sounded. Sliding up and down his rod may definitely have made for an interesting work out, but the rubbing of the crotch rope was driving me to distraction. The forward and back motions caused the ever tight rope, to slightly loosen and then tighten incredibly. Especially as I strove to hold my feet in their arched position in order to please my Master visually. I would never have believed it possible but I knew without a doubt that my body was working up towards its own orgasm.

I groaned upon his member sending my own bodies vibrations down into him. I slid down his cock until my mask rested against his tight stomach muscles and my chin was tickled by his bristly pubic hairs. Then I pushed myself back upwards, sucking and licking for all that I was worth. All the while my groans of contentment increased in both volume and timber bathing his hard meat with my own excited sound waves.

"Oh my Lord… Oh my Lord…" He groaned in unison with me, although my imprecations were muffled for obvious reasons. His member jerked once, then twice within the warm confines of my mouth like the warning rumbling of a volcano. I pulled back so I only had a few inches in my mouth as I used my hands as much as possible to continue those deep throat feelings. In only a few more seconds I was reward with his first huge spurt of cum. I continued to suck and pull at his cock with my satin sheathed fingers as he continued to pour more and more of his fluids into my mouth.

I savored the taste of him as his warm cum slid over my tongue and down my throat. Oh, how I loved that. Not just the taste, but the fact that I knew that drinking his cum down was a huge turn on for Greg. I could just imagine his body relaxing in contentment as he felt all of his semen sucked from his pulsating manhood and swallowed down into my waiting stomach. I finished off his last few drops and then quickly popped his cock from my mouth.

"Master, please help me cum", I said breathlessly.

"Huh… what?" he asked in a dazed voice.

"Please, Master, this crotch rope has brought me to the brink of an orgasm, but I need just a bit more help", I explained as I continued to rock my legs back and forth, keeping my orgasm just on the edge.

"With pleasure baby", he said gently as his lips met my own in a tongue twisting kiss. We dove at each other like wild animals. I used all of that suction power of mine to suck his tongue deep into my mouth, pulling him closer and closer to me in the only way that my bound form would let me. One of his hands pried one of my heaving mounds out of its satin confinement. Soon my nipple was standing tall as his thumb and forefinger rolled and played with it. His other hand dove between my legs, but the exceedingly tight rope frustrated his efforts. Not giving up he contented himself with caressing my inner things and tracing the taut moist rope with his eager digits.

"Oh, God…" I moaned in shock as my eyes popped open behind my blindfold. Greg had pinched down of my nipple cruelly and the delayed shock waves were flowing right into my sex. "Yes", I cried as my body bucked to the incredible orgasm that followed. Every unconscious move I made caused some type of pain mixed with the unbelievable pleasure of my climax. As I pushed away from the chair my nipple was tormented by my lover's unrelenting fingers. My legs strove wildly to free themselves form their bonds causing the crotch rope to be pulled taut like a steel cable, making me feel like I was being split in two!

Finally my gyrations calmed and my body softened into the glow of contentment. I was too tired to worry about my bonds and simply lay limply against Greg's thighs. He chuckled at my exhaustion and leaned over me to free my ankles. Letting the rope slide slowly through my ankle bindings he lowered my feet back to the floor. I knew that if he had simply let the rope loose my feet would have crashed to the floor as I simply had nothing left to give. He raised the blindfold off of my eyes and I looked up lazily and returned his smile. Exhausted, I continued to lay bound against his inviting body as I closed my eyes to rest. For some that may have been a turn off, but for me the smile remained upon my face as I thought of how warm and comfortable it felt to be bound at my lover's feet.

After my rest Greg gently helped me up and got us both moving again. Thank God, it was finally the weekend! I really needed the two days as I had twin warring factions going on within me. The first was the thought that there was so much that I wanted to experience with my lover and learn about my new station in life and it seemed to me that I just couldn't start soon enough. But the second was one of slowing down and smelling the roses. Since joining L&L my life had been a total whirlwind and I felt that I was being taken by those winds wherever they led. It had been a wild ride, but a very rewarding one and now I just wanted to take some time out to enjoy it.

After stepping out of the shower and changing into a pair of jeans and sneakers, I felt ready for anything. I found Greg working in the second bed room cleaning off old what-his-names desk and setting up his computer. I could see that it was a Dell and he quickly rambled off some statistics that came across to me as meaning it was a high end model. What I liked about it was the sleek black color and the huge 20" Trinitron screen.

"I hope you don't mind baby", Greg said with a smile, "but I thought I would start straightening up this room and move in some of my things."

My first thought was how perfect he looked sitting in that leather chair in front of the oak desk. I had brought them both as a present for my previous boyfriend, who was so thankful that he let me put the desk kit together by myself! He hardly ever used the room as he preferred to sit or lay on the couch and watch one sports program after another. Greg just looked like he had been made for that plush tanned leather chair.

It was like everything else about our relationship, it was simply comfortable. He just seemed to fit into my life and home like the proverbial yang to my yin. Even down to the clothes he was wearing. 501 blue jeans, a Harley Davidson T-shirt and deck shoes, his version of relaxed wear, was a total match for my own outfit.

"Not at all", I told him. I waved my hand around at the disorder state of the room as I said, "This room became a kind of storage room over the last few months. I'd always meant to clean it up, but there always seemed something more important to do. Actually I'm glad that you've found a use for it."

"Use for it… Sharon this room is great! The two big windows give it plenty of light, the overhead fan is perfect for keeping me and the computer cool and to top it all off there is plenty of room for a work out bench." Greg was smiling from ear to ear. He had found a place in our home that he could call his own and his happiness glowed like a full golden sun on a beautiful spring day. "Besides, I might even be able to find some closet space in this big double closet here. I've been in your closet baby and I don't think a mouse could find room to hang his clothes more less me finding room for mine!"

I'm sure my cheeks grew pink, but his good humor took away and negativity to his words. "I guess I am a bit of a clothes horse", I said sheepishly.

He stood up and wrapped me in his arms, "And I wouldn't want you any other way".

I felt his warmth and love flow into me and I smiled with closed eyes as I rested against his chest. He was just so perfect and I felt so comfortable… all I could think of was to give a silent vote of thanks to God for bringing us together.

"Can I help you out here", I asked looking up at his face.

"Not at the moment baby, I'm just working on getting the computer set up."

"Then how about I make us some breakfast", I asked. "How does eggs benedict sound?"

"Sounds great!" He responded with alacrity. "I didn't realize that you were so into cooking."

"Blue ribbon in two state fairs and A's in my home economics classes", I told him proudly. I went to the kitchen and pulled out the necessary implements and ingredients. Now eggs benedict is really very easy to make, but its one of those things that people don't normally make at home so it impresses the heck out of company. I had learned this trick years ago that you can make people a great meal and make them feel really special, without putting a lot of time into it. Of course having basic cooking skills helps, but after that it's merely being interested in trying new recipes or playing with the ones that you have already mastered.

"Breakfast is on, hon", I called as I served.

That was another difference between Greg and my ex. I only had to call him once and there he was striding through door shaking the excess water off his recently washed hands. (Note to self… put more hand towels in the bath room.) I loved watching his eyes widen as he spied the neatly set table, complete with matching place mats and napkins. His plate was set with two eggs and mine with one, both with steaming cups of coffee placed slightly to the right of center of the front of the plate and a glass of orange juice slightly to the right of the coffee. The creamer and sugar bowl were set within easy reach.

"My goodness this looks wonderful", he said in delight. "You're simply amazing baby!" I smiled knowing that this was one area where I would always feel that I was tops. Having him compliment me for it just made it all the better. We sat down and spread our napkins and I picked up my fork.

"Just a second baby", Greg said seriously. "It really amazes me how perfectly we fit together and every day I just feel like thanking the Big Guy for it, so if you don't mind I'd like to start the meal with a small prayer."

"I think that's a wonderful idea", I answered as I was definitely feeling the same way.

Greg looked up towards the chandelier above the table and started, "God, first off thank you for bring me and my lovely partner together. It is truly amazing how you waited to introduce us to each other until we were both at just at the right points in our lives to really appreciate the other. Now that you have brought us together we are enjoying the fruits of your work… again and again and again…" I gave him a look, part smile part stern, but he just smiled back and went on. "Again, thank you Lord for bringing us together and thank you for the great food."

"Greg, if you're going to make prayers that long every time we eat I'm going to have to pre-heat the plates to keep the meal warm!" I said in mock exasperation. "Besides you don't even know if it tastes good yet."

He stuck his tongue out at me and then put a fork full of food into his mouth. Smiling he said, `Unlike some people I never had any doubt… these eggs are absolutely delicious!" He put on a haughty face and then spoke like a rich connoisseur. "The sauce is tremendous just the right amount of spiciness combined with a texture that is rich but not overwhelming."

I smiled with pleasure as he dropped his façade and dug into his eggs with gusto. We were both pretty hungry after our morning's activities, so we ate quickly with just a bit of light conversation. As we sat back to relax, Greg told me that it was time for another shopping trip.

"Greg, what else could we possibly buy?" I exclaimed. "I've got more lingerie than I could ever have imagined. Then there are all these new heels that arrived on my doorstep yesterday, bearing your name with my address. And after our trip to your father's company I'm quite sure that your bag of tricks is also quite full. So what else do we need to shop for?"

"First hardware honey" he answered me.

"Hardware?" I asked puzzled.

"Yes, baby, hardware. We need a few good eye bolts, a drill set and a stud finder" he informed me.

"Eye bolts?" I asked, again dumbfounded.

"Yes, for the hanging plants that we will buy" Greg added with a grin.

"Alright, I give up. What the heck are you talking about?" I finally asked in exasperation.

He gave me his signature chuckle with that Indiana Jones smirky grin and then explained. "I'm going to put heavy eye-bolts strategically about the apartment in places were I may at times need to attach some ropes, pulleys or cables. For example over the bed would be a perfect place for a few." He added a knowing wink to this last statement. "To disguise the eye bolts we will buy some hanging plants. Besides, I see that you like plants and this will just go with your décor. Does that work for you?"

"Whatever Master wants", I told him with a laugh, "But, didn't you say first? So what's on the list for our second shopping trip?"

"Ah, that's simple", he answered again with a grin. "We're going to need a really high quality digital camera."

"Hmmm, and just why pray tell are we going to need such a good digital camera?" I asked knowing full well where he was going, but I knew he just loved to drag out telling me these things. He knew that I would agree to nearly anything he wanted, but it was as if he just loved adding a tinge of suspense to our games.

"Dear lady", he began earnestly. "Now that I have such a willing and beautiful subject to be my bondage model I'm going to need a very good camera to record our sessions. The camera I used at the lingerie shop uses film and while I don't mind having someone develop pictures of you sexily clothed, I don't have any intention of sharing pictures of you in, shall we say, more compromising situations?"

I laughed out loud at his soft soap approach. "I think that's a wonderful idea Master. I'd love to be your muse, but only on an entirely exclusive basis. Hence, taking pictures straight from the camera unto the computer would make me a very happy lady."

It was a good day for this sort of shopping trip as the weather was being contrary. Low clouds and a fine drizzle, however, didn't effect our happy disposition as we went in search of our desired items. At the Hardware store Greg was asking the elderly gentlemen that looked like he had been born and raised in this very store where he could find some of the goods when I interrupted him. "Actually, we don't need a stud finder, I already have one."

The older man looked me and Greg over and then his eyes glinted in amusement. "Of course you do, my dear", he said easily. "You found him didn't you?" I couldn't help but laugh and Greg joined in.

I looked at Greg sheepishly, "You know for hanging heavy pictures." He bent over and kissed me on the forehead, before he turned to follow the salesmen towards the appropriate bins. Greg was nothing if not decisive. In a very short while he had purchased a Nikita rechargeable drill, a comprehensive set of bits and eye bolts that looked like they could hold up a small elephant. To this he added three rolls of 100 ft nylon rope and a roll of duct tape.

The old gentleman tossed a plastic wrapped set of six different colored electrical tapes onto the counter next to Greg's other selections. Greg looked at him quizzically, "What are they for?"

"When you cut the rope to different lengths, it's easier to find the ones that you are looking for if you use different color tape to wrap the ends", he answered looking directly into his eyes.

I felt myself blush as Greg began to chuckle. "No need to blush, young miss. Me and the missus…" He nodded towards a lovely older lady at the next counter "...Have been enjoying those types of activities since before you were born. Needles to say, we are still happily married." I didn't know what to say and still felt my cheeks burning red. "Oh and I saw how you looked at those eye bolts. Your young man is entirely correct to get the heavy duty ones. No, you aren't very heavy, but I can see that you are a pretty strongly built young woman, so you'll see why for yourself when you start to really pull at those bolts!" He said with a knowing smile. "Yes, I think that you'll be very happy with your purchases."

I raised my eyes to find his wife standing next to him. "Don't you let this old hooligan upset you honey" she told me as she took my arm and led me away from the two men. "They're just men and you can't expect all that much from them in the way of subtlety." She looked back over her shoulder to see if the men were occupied. Satisfied she turned back towards me. "Obviously you're new to all this, right honey?" I nodded yes, as I was still a little take aback by the whole incident. "Do you love him?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, I do", I said earnestly. Then I thought about what I was saying and how I must look to the older women and I couldn't help, but laugh to myself. "I guess that sounded a bit like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz". I blushed a bit again, but her laugh made me feel relaxed.

"Yes, you most certainly did honey", she said with a smile, "but it doesn't look like you are trying to find a way to tap your ruby slippers together to go home… hmmm?"

“No, mam”, I told her. “I like where I am just fine. Besides…” I dropped my voice even lower “…clicking your heels when there six inches in the air isn’t all that easy!” The two of us laughed easily together.

"I am happy for you honey. All that matters is that you love each other. As long as you have that it really doesn't matter who's calling the shots." She told me seriously. "Of course, as you'll soon learn, despite yours status as a "bottom" that you can still have plenty of control of your life. That is what makes a truly happy long term relationship… team work!" She looked over at the men who were shaking hands as they completed their business. "You better scoot hun, your lord and master is ready to leave!"

I smiled gamely at her as I walked over to Greg who took my hand as we left the store. Her words continued to resound in my head… you can still have plenty of control of your life. My God was that ever true. I had never felt so out of control of my life as I had when I was with my ex, what-his-name. I was living a life that my parents wanted me to have, but it certainly bore no resemblance to the life that I wanted. Mind you I didn't truly know what I wanted at the time, but now all was different. My tenure at L&L had been a total whirlwind and meeting up with this wonderful man that I could only think of as the love of my life… and my Master… would probably seem to many that I was totally out of control. But quite the contrary, I had never felt as in control of my destiny and as alive as I felt right at this moment. A smile beamed out from my soul and spread to my face.

Greg noticed and asked, `A penny for your thoughts beautiful?'

I laughed and squeezed his hand. `I was just thinking how wonderfully happy I am', I told him as his arm wrapped around my shoulders. `Of course you can save your penny though as all of me, including my thoughts are free to you Master.'

The second stop on our little outing was less time consuming. Greg knew exactly what he wanted from research he had done on the internet. Three mexapixels with an eight times optical zoom lens and a three times digital zoom he told me as if I knew what the heck he was talking about. In a mere few minutes he seemed to have bought every accessory possible including a bigger storage card that he assured me would be good for a hundred pictures or more before it needed to be downloaded. As I watched him sign the $800 dollar credit slip I had too question the value versus the cost, so on the car ride home I asked him.

"It's very simple baby", he responded with a grin. "No film, no developing so no one else knows our business." I understood that part. I had felt really uncomfortable picking up the pictures from our last few encounters even though the firm was very discreet and used to dealing with L&L. This new digital alternative would totally eliminate that problem. "Besides baby, I intend to take lots and lots of pictures of you. I've always wanted to be a bondage photographer where I could take my time with my sub-ject and really enjoy myself. Digital will let me do that at almost no cost and at the same times allow me to crop and edit the pictures to my hearts content!" Now that made sense, in the dollars and cents way that my mind worked.

"Hmmm, Master I will love being the sub-ject of your bondage pictures", I told him in my best coquettish voice. "Just tie me up tight and please blindfold me and I promise I will be whatever you want me to be." I knew as the words slipped from my lips that they were true. It was as if my life was a blank canvas just waiting for my love to paint the path that he wanted me to take. As long as he was by my side, or perhaps slightly behind and to the left while he wielded a crop, I would be happy to walk that path.

That afternoon I found out exactly what it meant to be a bondage model. After returning from our shopping trip and having a light lunch Greg told me that he would like to have a bondage session this afternoon. "Whatever Master wishes", I replied with a smile. "And just what would Master like me to wear for this session?" Greg rattled off his request like he had been thinking about it for hours and not just making it up as he went. I was still getting used to how much he liked garter belts and garters. Even with the baby doll night gown that he wanted me to wear he still wanted me to wear stockings with garters versus the elastic topped stay up type. It mattered little to me and besides as he was known to joke `it's good to be the king!'

I came out of the bedroom twenty minutes later and was totally surprised to find a wooden chair perched upon my coffee table that had been moved into the center of the room. He saw my concerned stare and smiled, "Not to worry baby. There are a set of your hardcover books underneath the chair legs to make sure that they don't dent the surface. The white sheet I've placed over them should give us some nice contrast for the pictures."

"Sounds perfect Master", I said as I accepted the hand that he held out to me. "And I suppose that you wish me to sit on the chair for the session?" Stating the obvious was always one of my weak traits. He only smiled, as he helped me up onto the platform where I turned carefully to seat myself. Only the front pads of my slipper clad feet rested on the sheet after I sat down. It seemed that he had used a number of books to raise the height of the chair to achieve this interesting effect. "I was wondering why you let me wear my leather slippers instead of one of your favored sets of heels, but seeing as how I had to climb onto the table it now all makes sense."

"Yes, baby that is exactly why you are now wearing your slippers", he told me as one of his hands caressed my thigh. His finger tips traced the length of the suspender and then swirled around the top of the captured stocking. "However by the end of this session you will have worn numerous pairs of your new heels and perhaps even a pair or two of your slippers. You see once I've tied you up appropriately the focus of many of the pictures that I take today will be of your sexily shod feet. I do so love the sight of a beautiful woman tied up and bound into a pair of heels… or slippers for that matter."

He smiled at my contemplative look and continued. "One of the things that my father passed down to me is a love of women in heels and slippers. Even as a child I remember Mom wearing spiked heel pumps around the house or when they were relaxing in bed soft satin slippers. Of course Cassy simply feeds his lust like it was a sweet tooth, wearing anything the company makes and even buying things she thinks he would like herself! I'm sure you can imagine the effect that seeing a lovely young woman day in and day out could have on an even younger and very impressionable youth!"

"Oh my lord, I hadn't thought of that!" I answered in total seriousness. "My God you must have had such a load of fantasies about her… it must have been incredibly tough to have her so close…"

"Yes" he replied slowly. "Every young boys fantasy and then some so close and yet totally untouchable. It's probably one of the reasons why I hated her so much in the beginning. My hormones were raging as I reached my teen years and having this beautiful woman walking about our home in heels and skirts or in short robes and slippers…"

"I think I'm starting to get jealous", I pouted.

"Sorry doll", he said as he gave me a gentle kiss. "Memory lane kicked in, but that is just to tell you why I have such a fetish for slippers and heels." I wasn't at all worried about that as that particular `fetish' worked in perfectly with my own likes, but his feelings for his step-mom still caused me to wonder. "I can read the look on your face… and I can tell you in all honesty that despite my many fantasies about Dad's wife neither of us ever considered acting on them. In fact it was that partnership that we formed to beat Dad at his own bondage games that really made us a family. As you can imagine I had every opportunity to take advantage of the situation, her being bound and me being her rescuer, but soon what I felt for her turned from lust to… respect."

He saw my confused look and added, "Let me try to explain it this way. Cassy knew that it made Dad feel good that he was tying her up before he left for work each morning. You see in his own way he was making sure that Cassy wouldn't leave him like Mom had… when she died." He paused for a minute to collect his thoughts and then continued on. "And until I came into the scene and started untying her before I left for school she had been giving up all those days of freedom to make Dad happy. Then when Dad started to realize that I was untying Cassy in the morning and retying her before he came home at night, instead of letting him get mad about it she made it into a big competition. I know it's not your average family game but this competition between my father and I was what kept Dad's mind off of losing Mom. On top of that it brought us all together as a family." He smiled at me and touched my face with the tips of his fingers. "So you see baby, there is no reason to be jealous and besides… I've found you and that's all I've ever wanted."

I felt a shiver through my spine as his words touched me to my core. Every time that I thought that I couldn't love him any more than I already did he would come up with something else that would take our love to an even higher level. I could feel my loins warming from his words and smiled as I thought to myself that this was almost as good as having sex!

"OK, now back to the matter at hand", Greg told me as he got back to business. "Spread your legs baby." An unusual command for my current position, yet I complied as a good bottom should. He held up what looked like a silver plastic egg which trailed a long wire to a hand held unit. Reaching in between my legs he slipped the egg in between my pussy lips and then using his finger tips pushed it deep into my vagina. Now the crotch-less panties also made sense. "You see doll you're going to be tied up for quite some time as I take my photos and I don't want you to get to bored. Mind you I'm also not opting to use your multi-pack unit, because I don't want you so excited that you knock yourself off of your perch!" With that he activated the unit. He started it out with a low amount of vibration and then gradually built it up to full power.

"Oh my", I said slightly shocked. "Yes, I think that will definitely keep me from being bored."

"Perfect" he said as he flipped the unit back into its off position. "Now edge forward on the chair and put your legs back together so I can start tying your thighs together." Just like Mr. Thatcher, Greg was a perfectionist when it came to his rope work. He looped a double strand of rope just below the tops of my stockings and then wrapped them loosely in a second and third layer of strands. He threaded the loose end through my legs, up and over the top strands and then down back through my thighs. Knotting the rope below my legs he tightened the six coils of rope tightly together until they took on the appearance of a single white nylon cuff. The rope pressed tightly into my flesh, which while not being in any way painful, was still more than tight enough to be secure.

He had started with a very long rope and he still had quite a bit left so once again he began encircling my thighs. The rope nearly ran out when he completed his third circuit, giving him that same six coil look, but there was just enough for him to cinch it tight. He had started the second set about an inch away from the first and now from my view point it looked like to completely different sets of rope. Before I was finished admiring his handy work he had already started on another binding, this time just above the knees. Again six coils tied cinched tightly between my legs. The next flowed swiftly over my suntan colored stockings onto my calves just below my knees.

My ankles were graced with eight strands of the rope and this time cinched differently. He wrapped the rope between my ankles time and time again until he ran out of rope and tied it off. The binding itself was just as tight as any of its fellows but the difference in cinching allowed for about a two inch separation between my ankles.

"Now slide back into the chair until your back is up against the wooden rungs", Greg ordered me calmly as he surveyed his efforts. "Good now slide into these heels." He slid off my leather ballet flats and placed the heels onto my feet one at a time. Looking around my bound gams I could see that they were the new pair of six inch pure black patent leather pumps. They were still a bit tight as they hadn't been broken in, so I had to settle my weight onto them in order to get my toes deeply into the tight interior. My feet stretched to the highly arched soles and my toes were uncomfortably cramped, but I consoled myself as I thought that it was a heck of a lot better sitting in six inch heels then it was standing!

"Hands behind the chair" he ordered. I crossed my wrist behind my back and he lashed them together in that crossed position. With the remains of the trailing rope he tied my wrists to the wooden cross bar below the chair. His next move was to add a double stranded "X" which crossed between my breasts and bound my back tightly to the wooden chair rungs. His final wrapping bound my thighs tightly to the seat of the chair, leaving me about as helplessly bound as I ever had been before. One thing about the whole event struck me as important, but it wouldn't solidify into words yet. Then as I saw him cleaning up some unused loose rope, coiling and cinching it tight before he put it back into his bag, it came to me.

"Master, how is it that you are so fast at your bindings and yet still as neat as Mr. Thatcher", I asked for the truth was he was much faster than either Mr. Thatcher or his own father.

"Lot's of practice baby", he said with a smile. "First I had to learn to tie quickly to get Cassy back into bondage before Dad got home and then second I had to become even quicker as a rigger." He saw in my eyes that I didn't fully understand so he continued. "When I started working in bondage films my first job was as a rigger and not as a director. Riggers are the guys that tie the models up and the quicker he was the quicker that the director could get to the money shot, so us riggers had to be quick. Of course I was working for one of the big houses, Harmony Communications, so it had to look good also hence my neatness plus speed."

"Wow, I hadn't thought about that", I replied thoughtfully. "Master, just how many women have you tied up?"

Greg gave me his signature chuckle. "Hundreds baby, literally hundreds!"

"Then why didn't you find someone before me to fit my role in our little session here if you were meeting these HUNDREDS of submissive's" I asked pointedly.

"Reeeooowww", Greg made a sound like an angry cat as he smiled. "Pull back in those claws baby." He stroked my hair and then slid a blindfold about my head. The elastic strap pulled the soft padded leather tightly over my eyes cutting off even a hint of light. "Now open wide so I can put in your gag and then I will answer your question while I take your picture." The soft latex ball gag soon filled my mouth effectively cutting off the rest of the questions that I might have asked. The only thing I could hear was the camera zooming in an out as digital cameras don't have shutters that click as they take there pictures.

"First of all baby", Greg began his story. "Not all women who pose for bondage pictures or participate in bondage films are submissive's. For a lot of them it is simply a way to earn a paycheck. You see most of them never take off their panties and don't have to do anything except look pretty and get tied up, not a bad way to earn a few grand for two or three days of work." He paused for a bit and I heard him moving to a different location. The zoom whirled and I suppose another batch of photos was shot. "Then there were the true submissive's in the harder core films. They would do the tougher shots like having their elbows bound together during a hogtie sequence, nipple clamps with weights, suspension bondage… well you get the idea."

"Yes, I did date some of those ladies and yes, I did tie a number of them up during our relationships", he told me softly. "But it also never got this far… being with them was like trying to fit that proverbial square peg into the round whole. Sooner or later the relationships just fell apart because they didn't have that special spark that I was looking for in a lover." That chuckle of his filled the room as he moved to my right. "In fact I can say with total certainty that not a one of them would have ever asked why I had picked them versus the rest of the world's female population. Of course that is probably one of the signs of the spark that only you possess which draws me to you like no other."

The `little egg that could', now humming deep with in my loins, was just enough to keep me on the edge constantly. It made me hot in a physical sense while his words melted me in a more spiritual way. I clenched my hands behind my back wishing that they were free so that I could relieve myself. Of course the taut ropes didn't give at all and I couldn't move my hands in any appreciable way.

I started as I felt his hands close over one of my shoes. "Time for a footwear change, baby", Greg said lightly. "I think I'll switch you into the red six inch sandals. Hmmm, interesting name, these are called Exposed according to the box." He pulled the tight pumps off of my feet and slid on the sandals. While he was buckling them in place he told me, "I really should have looked at the names Dad puts on some of his shoes, they really are amusing. I'm sure that you will be happy to know that the last pair of pumps that you were wearing were called the Ultimate Pumps." Truthfully the name didn't matter, but the freedom my toes felt in the sandals was greatly appreciated!

I heard the cameras zoom whirling once again and Greg's soft voice painted a vivid picture for me. "My, my, those sandals work great with your cherry red baby doll and the red satin gloves. Oh, and the garters peaking out from under the skirt of your gown pulled taut against your thighs as they hold up your stockings… lovely. The stockings are just perfect also. They have that iridescent shimmer that makes your legs look like they are slick with oil. Oh and the way that the arch of your foot is shown off so elegantly in the tight red patent leather bindings of the sandals… magnificent. It is as if your foot is just sliding down the sole of the shoe because it is so wondrously steep and the only thing stopping you from sliding right out of them is the strap grabbing your red-painted toes."

This went on for some fifteen or so minutes and now we were nearly an hour into the session. The egg was still doing its job, but it was starting to lose my interest. Albeit not entirely, yet it didn't hold the fascination for me that it had at first. Greg's voice telling me how sexy I looked did wonders towards keeping my fires lit, but I couldn't help wishing for a more physical motivator. "Mmmmm", I moaned in satisfaction through my gag. Greg had moved to my left side and was nuzzling my neck. I heard the camera being set onto the table and soon felt his hands on my breasts. "Mmmmm", I moaned delightedly, now this is exactly what I needed! Something to really keep me stimulated until he was ready to let me cum.

His kneading hands slowly left my grateful silken sheathed mounds and his lips followed shortly after. I heard him rummaging in his leather bag and wondered what he was doing. I cocked my head trying to discern what he was looking for and was rewarded by the sounds of chain links clicking together. That sound was becoming increasingly familiar so I knew without a doubt what he had found. Soon his fingers where once again on my breasts, this time pulling them up and out of their supporting wired cups. His practiced digits tickled and then manipulated my nipples until they sprouted outwards like little buds at spring time.

"Owwww", I groaned through the gag as the first clamp bit into my nipple. This one really hurt and I found myself struggling against my bindings yet finding no release. "Ohhh… Ohhh", I cried in pain through that damn gag which was now trying to choke me. My breathing had sped up, do to the pain of the clamps on my nipples, so that I could barely bring in enough air through my nose. As I began to calm myself and let the pain soak through me I could feel him handling the chain that obviously connected the two clamps. "Oww, Oww, Oww", I whimpered in total distress as I felt the chain pulled tautly away from my nipples. I tried to lean forward to reduce the stress on my elongated nipples, but the rope crossed between my breasts held my back tightly to the chair.

"Hmmm, your nipples still seem to be a bit tender from yesterday nights play time", Greg told me in a clinical sounding voice. `No shit, Sherlock' I wanted to shout at him, but on second thought it was probably best that I was gagged! The touch of his finger fiddling with the binding above my knees made it obvious where he had tied off the lead he had attached to the center of the chained clamps. I couldn't move my knees backward and I could not move my breasts forward so I could do absolutely nothing to ease the tension in the line or the pain to my nipples.

I tossed my head in frustration and felt my hair fly. Between that and clenching my fists there was little else that I could move to show my discomfort. As I slowly calmed down, I felt Greg swapping out my sandals for another pair of pumps this one with a single ankle strap. "I'm letting you off easy with these baby", Greg told me with a tinge of laughter in his voice. "These pumps are called `Extreme' but they only sport a five and three quarter inch heel. There the same ones you wore this morning when you blew me. My little gift to offset your new set of clamps, but you must know that I put them on with you in mind." This time he did actually chuckle. "I couldn't have you sitting there bored could I?"

"Aaannnkks ooo ott", I growled through my gag. In all honesty I couldn't hold it against him, because it was definitely causing an interesting stimulation to my already heated pussy. I smiled behind my gag as I remembered one of my mother's old adages, `be careful what you wish for!' I had been wishing for a bit more stimulation, just not quite as much as Greg thought that I needed. Though he was definitely keeping me interested as he stretched my nipples inches closer to my knees!

My mind was focused almost entirely on my nipples and the pain that was radiating from their clipped tips. It had moderated to a mere one alarm fire from the initial four alarm status, but the pain was still very evident. Using my yoga training I calmed myself and let the pain flow through me, which was like sending bolts of lightening to my cunny. Combining this with the little Easter present vibrating away deep within me, kept me just on the edge of cumming. I barely realized that Greg must have finished his last shot until he once again began to nuzzle my neck.

"Ooohhhh", I moaned as his hands cupped both of my firm breasts and gently squeezed them. This once again sent bolts of pure sexual excitement down into my warm moist love canal… yet, still it wasn't enough to push me over the top. I shook my head once again in frustration. Greg merely chuckled and slid another pair of shoes onto my feet.

"Later baby" he told me softly as he buckled the new set of heels into place. "I promise that you will get the release that you crave… but just not yet." He let his hands slide up over the ropes binding my ankles, tracing and caressing the flesh nearest the taut lines. Moving them upwards he massaged my legs over and around each of their bonds until his hands were resting on my bare sensitive thighs just above the tops of my stockings. His fingers slid down into the crack between my creamy smooth hips, but couldn't even come close to reaching my flaming vagina. I moaned again in frustration realizing that in this extremely tight bondage situation that it was going to be a bit more difficult for him to get me off. Stopping his ministrations he said, "Now you probably can feel that these shoes have a less steeply arched sole with only a five inch heel. They don't seem to have a name, but they are basically a sling back closed toe sandal with a cage like set of straps wrapped around your instep to mid-sole. Black patent leather, by the way, and they really are very becoming on you!"

I consoled myself in that at least if I couldn't cum yet that my Master and lover was truly enjoying himself. Good God, it isn't as easy being a bondage model as I initially thought. This waiting about for heck… hours while the person behind the camera took the pictures was not as simple as it had looked. When Greg had originally showed me pictures from his videos and on the net, I had thought that it looked like a snap. Those girls were getting paid good money for a really easy job. Just about now, despite the fact that I was comfortably seated, I was beginning to revise that estimate.

Greg switched me next into a pair of fluffy feathered marabou mules, which I was told were red satin with again a five inch heel. But after that he surprised the heck out of me by sliding on a pair of flats. "Those are your white satin ballet flats" he informed me as I heard the camera's zoom working. "Now I would like you to arch your feet in them with only your toes touching the table, while making the sole of your foot as straight to vertical as possible." I arched my feet into a modified `on pointe' position. The sole of these flats were solid leather and not the soft split-soled suede of ballet slippers so I could not reach my highest extension. "Ah, that's perfect baby, simply perfect. The toes of your slippers are touching the table so lightly that the satin tips are staying perfectly rounded. Oh, and your feet are arched amazingly to get that nearly vertical line from your soles. The frontal view is stupendous! Your knees are raised to keep those arches high, forming a beautiful trail all the way down to the little bow at the throat of your pristine white slippers."

The next thing I knew his fingers were untying the ropes about my thighs. It wasn't easy as he had purposely tied all the knots under my legs so that they wouldn't show up in his picture set, but he got them loose somehow. Then my gag was being pulled out and his lips met mine as one of his hands pushed its way between my still tightly tied legs. He found his way to my moist mouth and began rubbing my clit just the way I liked. I leaned into him in total abandon as now I knew that he was finally going to reward me for my patience.

"Ooowww…. Ooooowww", I cried as his other had closed roughly on one breast and began to play with the clamp. I began to buck against my bindings causing the chair and table to creak ominously. This was far from my comprehension though, as the orgasm that had building for nearly two hours burst over me in mere seconds after being truly touched. His hand on my chest roughly restrained me as despite my obvious release Greg continued to vigorously rub my clit. It became self-evident why shortly.

"OH SHIT" I screamed in panic stricken pain as he removed one of the clamps from a nipple. I don't ever remember having my nipples clamped for so long a period and now I was learning that that numbness was only temporary. I threw myself at my bonds like a mad woman as the excruciating pain of the blood flowing back into freed nipple hit me. It took all of his strength to keep me from throwing myself off the table as I sucked in lungs full of air through both my nose and mouth. "OOOOWWW" I cried once again as the second clamp was removed. It didn't hurt any less than the first, but I was more prepared for it this time. Tears sprang unbidden from my eyes and were soaked up instantly by the blindfolds soft fleece padding. Greg continued to rub my clit more and more quickly until the excitement of my next orgasm engulfed the pain and took me for one of the wildest rides that I will never forget.

Greg wrapped his arms around my middle and held me tight as my whole body burst into convulsions. My strong feet and legs were arching and pushing against the table so strongly that I nearly tipped myself over. Next I threw my body from side to side again almost causing me to fall. Again and again my body strained and pulled in utter abandon as this mother of all orgasms ran its course through me. Greg held onto me for all he was worth and finally… finally… the waves calmed and I sagged sobbing into his arms.

"Are you OK baby?" He pleaded with heartfelt concern as he lifted the mask from my eyes.

I managed to wink at him and finally forced a tired smile to my lips. "Oh, I'm much much better then OK Master. I may not be able to move for a while, but I am much much better than simply OK." I repeated myself exhaustedly. "My God, so this is what it means to be totally sated! I've read about it in romance novels but I never thought that it was true." I leaned forward limply and let my bonds hold me to the chair as Greg untied the ropes. When I was freed he picked me up in his arms and carried me gently over to the couch. He laid me down and pulled the gray wool blanket over my supine body as I lay there totally exhausted.

He kissed me on the forehead and went to leave the room. "Master" I called tiredly, "what about your needs?"

"I'll call for you later baby. For now just relax and rest" he said to me softly.

"OK" I responded slowly as my eyes closed and my consciousness departed from this world.

"Baby, oh baby" I heard as if from far away as I slowly regained my senses.

"Yes… yes, I'm here", I said through a deep yawn.

"I would greatly appreciate your presence in the computer room baby", Greg told me much too brightly. I struggled into a sitting position and finally gained my feet. My body was already beginning to ache from all too many pulled muscles and that made me think of a nice warm soothing bath. I smiled as I trudged tiredly, with nearly closed eyes, towards the sound of my lover's voice.

My lids flew open as I rounded the door frame. Greg sat there nude in the well padded tan leather chair, but that wasn't what drew my attention. There I sat bound to the chair, blindfolded, gagged, clamped and shod in six inch heels on his computer screen which was the size of a moderate size television set. As I walked closer I could see the incredible detail of the picture. The way my red lips sucked in the black gag, how my nipples were pulled so taut that they were white from the strain, how symmetricly perfect each of the sets of white nylon coils were and how incredibly high my heels were suspended above those tall spikes.

"Incredible isn't it?" he asked obviously pleased with his work.

"Yes… yes" I replied as I took it all in. I knew what I had been doing and I had already seen pictures of myself bound, but blown up on such a large screen… wow. It was a lot assimilate all at once.

I saw his hand moving, gently stroking his penis. "Hey, no stealing my job", I cried in mock horror.

Greg laughed, but his hand did drop his near hardened cock. "Speaking of your JOB… I really could use a blow job just now."

"Of course Master" I responded obediently as I began to move towards him. Greg clicked a button on the screen labeled slide show and then the picture that I had been looking at expanded to fill up the whole screen with a legend at the bottom saying it was one of ninety-eight.

"You took ninety-eight pictures of me?" I asked incredulously.

"Actually, over one hundred and ten, but not all of them came out", he told me as he pointed towards his waiting cock.

"And you want me to blow you while you are looking at these pictures of me?" He nodded yes with a smile. "My, oh, my you do just love to have your cake and eat it too!"

Greg just smiled at me as I knelt between his legs and began kissing his balls. He turned back to the monitor and clicked to the next picture as my lips began to encircle his swiftly hardening rod. I could hear the measured click, click of the mouse as he advanced through the pictures while I began to ride his thick manhood up and down. I added my hand to the mix pumping him into my mouth on the up stroke and sucking him all the way into my throat on the down stroke. It seemed like I had just really gotten into it when a huge wad of cum splashed against the back of my throat. I backed off and continued to use my hand to pump him as I sucked down his hot jism. This seemed to go on for much longer than normal and Greg moaned in pleasure. Finally his eruption ebbed and I licked off the last few drops from the tip of his head.

I looked up into his eyes as he looked down at me with a sated smile. With a chuckle he said, "It's good to be the King!"

Chapter 18 – Parties and Projects

By the White Knight

Sunday was a more restful day, as advertised Greg had lined up a Real Estate agent to show us around. We drove up to Chappaqua and met Pat Greer at her office, a cute little house that had been converted into a business space with a tasteful sign out front proclaiming that it was a Prudential agency. Pat was simply amazing, full of life and ideas she always had a bright smile ready and a sunny outlook to present. Since Greg and I really had no preconceived ideas about exactly what we wanted she took us on an all day tour of the area.

It seemed odd that she would spend so much time with only one client that really wasn't at the point of buying, until she let slip the price range that Greg had told her we were looking for. I looked over at him with a look that said `how can we possibly afford this', but he just smiled and winked.

We talked about the houses over dinner and both agreed that we didn't like the wild new age designer looks with all there angles and projections, nor were we crazy about the huge sprawling ranches that seemed to take 10 minutes to walk from one end to another. The colonials were nice, but they were also so our parents, that we really couldn't see ourselves in one. However, there was a couple of reproduction Tudors that were really nice. These both had beautifully landscaped properties that enhanced the package, especially as they were both very secluded from there neighbors.

We laughed with each other as we both picked one over the other as our favorite. As we walked through the lovely large cathedral bedroom we were led into a large walk-in closet. It didn't look any different than any of the dozen or so other closets that we had seen during the day until Pat pointed out one salient feature. With a click of a recessed button a door popped open in the back wall of the closet! Beyond the door was a wonderfully comfortable room that had been converted into a private study. It was large and airy complete with two large skylights that could be opened at will. The room itself was huge and despite the fact that the roof sloping minimized that actual usable space, must have measured nearly 20ft x 20ft. We were told that when the place was built the contractor mentioned all of the unused space over the garage and the owner had put in his own secret little hideout.

Greg and I couldn't tell Pat, but that secret little hideout would be a perfect place for use to have our own private play area, alright dungeon, if you are like Greg and prefer that term. The thought of having someplace that no one could get to without going through our bedroom was very appealing. We both knew that we would one day want to have children and the ability to slip out of our bedroom and into our fantasy room unnoticed was a huge selling point! Even before that if we had company over it wouldn't restrict us from our fun and games. It seemed a much better idea than the locked room in the Thatcher's home that was right in the middle of the basement. A basement that was often frequented by their kids. Heck, how did Samantha get down stairs when she was wearing a corset and heels? All I could figure was that there own fun and games were probably limited to very select times when the kids were definitely asleep or staying over at a relatives home.

I baulked over the nearly six figure price tag, but Greg told me not to worry. He had done quite well as a director it turns out and was still receiving nice royalty checks monthly from his many works. He also reminded me that his dad would undoubtedly give us a significant present when we wed, which would put quite a dent into the homes price tag.

That led me to think about my parents. Despite Greg's and his father's enterprises being a tad off color, they could in no way doubt that they were wealthy. I guess my mom should have been careful what she wished for, because I seemed to have definitely found myself in love with a wealthy man. After my parents got over the shock of where we had decided to make our careers, I was equally certain that there would also be a large annuity coming my way from them once we were married.

I slept that night in wonderful peace… that is until Greg slapped me on my rump the next morning demanding his morning blow job! While I found my way to the bathroom to make myself presentable, Greg jumped from the bed and headed for the computer room. By the time I joined him there, he had gotten my picture back up on the screen and just looking at my distended nipples made me wince. He gave me his roguish smile and held up four sets of cuffs in one hand and a blindfold in the other.

`Yes, Master', I responded with a huff as I complied with his circular turn around motion. One set of cuffs were buckled about my wrists and locked behind my back. The second set, which I had thought was for my ankles, were placed just above each of my elbows. He attached something metallic to my right elbow and then pulled this arm towards the opposite cuff. The strain on my shoulder blades continued to increase until I heard the latch snick home. The strain eased slightly as the D rings of the cuffs stretched a bit as my arms tested there resilience.

`Hmmm, simply lovely darling', Greg told me as he turned me back around. `You do look so wonderfully fresh and innocent in your soft white frock.'

`Thank you my Lord', I said as I smiled and made a mini curtsy. Soft white frock indeed! He must be in one of his English Lord moods I thought to myself. The gown was pristine white, but the single shoulder Grecian style cut, the hip length hem and the tight gathering at the waist could hardly be categorized as innocent! Add to that the white seamed stockings and the marabou feather tufted satin slides and the last think that would come to must men's mind was the word innocent. Of course this was my Lord and Master and it was his game, so I smiled even wider as I enjoyed my helplessness.

Licking my lips suggestively I asked, `Is there anything that I can do for you my Lord?' Greg nodded towards his lap that same grin. `Oh my', I said in mock surprise, `I see your problem my Lord. Your manhood is so in need of my services that it is popping out of the hole in your boxers like a rabbit out of a hat!'

`Yes, wench, and yon rabbit is desperately in need of finding a warm moist burrow dive into', he replied with gusto as his hands came up to grasp my waist.

As he help me to my knees, I pouted and complained, `I would much rather have rabbit and pussy play together, personally.'

`I'm sure that you would you lusty vixen', he said heartily as he slid the soft leather blindfold over my eyes. `However, I am the Lord and Master here and I have decided that rabbit would much prefer to plunge into the warmth of your burrow-like mouth and throat. Besides there was the little matter of a wager that I do recall…'

How could I forget! Blow jobs every morning for the first week that we lived together was my penalty for suggesting that he could not bind me in three totally exciting ways with only what he could find within our hotel room a few weeks past. I had lost that bet hands down, or perhaps I should say bottoms up, regardless now it was time to pay up. `You will have to guide me please my Lord, which I am afraid will mean that you will have to take your hands off your mouse… will that prove a problem?'

`Not at all oh helpless one', he called as his hands wrapped about my head and lead me to his rambunctious rabbit. `I've set yon theatre to automatically cycle through each lovely portrait so that both of my hands would be at your disposal.'

`How ooouuuttffuulll', I mumbled as my mouth slid open to accept his head. I could barely believe the multitude of ways that he could come with to make me totally helpless while I gave him fellatio. Once again I could see nothing and my arms were painfully restrained behind my back, while he pulled my loving lips up and down his engorged organ. Many a woman may have felt abused in such a situation, but not me. I hummed in pleasure sending tingles of my joy into his hard rod as I soaked up the exciting feeling of being totally under my Master control.

His hands increased their grip and forced me to except an even faster pace. I had become so used to blowing him, that I could let my mouth do its work, while the rest of my body enjoyed the ride. I remembered talking about the freedom of mind and body that could be achieved in yoga class, but this was one of the first times that I found how it applied to my new life. It was such a glorious feeling to be free of all my physical and mental constraints as my mind floated in this new realm. Even when his head popped against the roof of my mouth or hit the back of my throat the serenity of my alter world kept me calm and my happy humming kept him excited.

In mere minutes I felt him burst deep down in my throat. The hot cum poured down my open gullet directly into my stomach. Greg pulled me upwards so that I only had half of him in me as the rest of his jism spewed forth. I sucked it in, but I was sorry to feel that my state of tranquility had been lost. My tongue wrapped around his receding pole as I bathed him of any remnants of the experience.

`You are truly an amazing witch of a wench', he told me as he allowed me off of his member. `As you know I pride myself on being able to control the timing of my orgasms and here you go throwing me all of schedule! That humming of yours, combined with your flawless deep throats and the extremely beautiful pictures of you flashing before me simply did me in!' As he removed my mask, I saw him shaking his head. `It seems that I am just going to have to train myself harder and more often to get back to the level of control that I once prided myself on… ah well, I suppose there could be worse things.'

His sigh of mock regret, broke through my own feelings of loss, from not having rabbit within me, and forced me to laugh out loud. Greg wrapped his arms around me and joined my laughter and then gently removed my bonds. The ache in my shoulders relaxed as my arms were freed and I threw them about his neck. `Worse things indeed!' I said indignantly as I nibbled on his ear.

Another friendly swat on the butt got me moving to the shower. We washed up, dressed, ate and still had time to brush our teeth before we left for the office.

Work had become something that I looked forward to versus just another job. There was always plenty of the day to day administrative work to keep my day busy, but as I began to find where everything fit and the best ways to do things this part of my function became less demanding. Even my new additional tasks of managing the products room inventory and handling the tough customer questions were now almost like second nature. As the partners became more comfortable with me and saw my desire to take on more `meaty' assignments they responded happily by passing new bits and pieces to me.

Mr. Harrison was the first with his request for me to look at the application descriptions on numerous of our toys and leather items. Most were merely copy write jobs, where laziness had caused a word to be spelled wrong or put in the wrong place in a sentence that totally changed the meaning of the instructions. But every once in a while there was a question that truly was challenging.

Harry showed me a nearly a dozen letters complaining about our leather strap web product. It seems that many of the ladies who had used this product, or were forced into it by their dom, were experiencing pinching from the buckles and straps. From the catalog I could see that the straps were meant to be used as either a decorative leather web or to totally immobilize the upper body. Not to mention the strap running between the legs that could be used to hold in all sorts of interesting items!

While I was checking out one of the products from the product room, I noticed that it was made for us by guess who… that's right Stanton & Son Enterprises. So who better to help me `test' the product than our new partner Greg Stanton?

Greg was with Mr. Harrison when I interrupted them with my request. The big lug grinned from ear to ear while I felt my cheeks turning redder by the second. Heck, I thought that I was over that, but despite my best efforts the heat in my face grew and grew. Harry smiled and suggest to Greg that we use one of he changing rooms in the models area for our `product testing'.

Finding the models changing rooms empty we turned on the lights and went to our work in a very professional way. Greg suggested that I strip to my bra and panties so that the buckles would be up against skin and not material. Removing my dress and blouse revealed one of my new matching sets, this one in burgundy with white lace about the tops of the bra and the waist of the panties. The garter belt also sported some of the delicate lace as its tight garters held up my sheer nude hose. Suede pumps, also in burgundy, were the last thing left on as we went to work.

Greg quickly set about attaching the straps which formed the collar, with that done all of the other straps just hung down in front of me. Ordering me to put my arms by my side, he began the process of binding my arms to my body. The first strap above my breast which encircled my upper arms did not pinch me when it was tightened. He even pulled it another notch tighter as I told him this just to make sure. The next below my breasts, went around my arms a tad below the elbows, again there was no pinching. The last encircling strap bound my lower arms to my body a roughly the tops of my hips. Greg commented that he would personally have added wrist to thigh cuffs to make sure the I didn't slide my arms from beneath this last strap, but regardless there was still no pinching from the buckles. Finally he pulled the chastity strap up between my legs and buckled it home in the small of my back. The strap pressed tantalizingly against my pussy, as my mind wandered to thoughts of its potential uses, but again no pinching.

I closed my eyes for just a second, taking in a deep breath of the rich leather smell given off by the straps. Letting my mind wander I experienced the leather confining my body, firmly, yet in a way gently due to the supple material that formed the straps. Greg's hands closed about my breasts and his lips began to kiss my throat as he said to me softly, `You see baby, Stanton Enterprises makes quality products.' His fingers pinched at my nipples through their lacy coverings. My knees nearly immediately felt weak as I leaned desperately into his warm body.

Shaking my head I forced myself back firmly to my feet and said, `Greg… or is it Master, shouldn't we finish with our work first?'

Greg's hands moved back gently to cupping my full and eager breasts, `Greg will be fine for now darling and unfortunately we have yet to find the cause of all of these complaints. Were there any specific's in the letters that would give us more of a clue?'

Shaking my head no I answered, `Most of the letters were short. They all, except one, loved the product but complained about the way that the buckles pinched. One did say that she was wearing it like a sexy S&M type teddy when she had the problem, but most of the ladies didn't get into any detail at all.'

`I suppose that's not unusual', Greg opined as he began freeing me from the straps. `I'm sure that using the product versus describing how they are using the product to an absolute stranger are two entirely different things.' With all of the straps released he had me raise my arms, while he began re-applying them. Without my arms being bound the top straps buckle was now directly against the skin right behind my tender arm pit. The buckle didn't exactly pinch, but when Greg cranked it up one more notch it was a near thing. The next buckle was almost on my side and dug a bit into the taut skin at the top of my rib cage. The final strap bit into the soft flesh near the top of my buttocks, just over the left hip. It seems that all of the extra length needed to encircle my arms had moved the buckle far from the center of my back, which was causing the problem. The strap buckled between my legs was the same as before as the buckle at the back was mounted on a loop that could be moved along the waist strap into just the right position.

It was a bit more uncomfortable worn this way, and yes there had been a few minor pinches, but I still didn't see any real issues with the product. Obviously neither did Greg who once again began teasing my nipples and kissing his way up my neck. `We are finished our test work, so I think we are entitled to our fifteen minute break.' My will had been weak before and now it totally flew out the door. His finger tweaking my nipples was driving me crazy and all I wanted was to have him in me, driving into me, pounding into me…

I turned myself into his body and threw myself at him… literally. Putting my arms around his neck, I jumped up and encircled his waist with my powerful legs. Greg grunted from the impact, but his lips met mine hungrily as his hands moved to support my thighs. While he held me I began to dry hump against his hips and against the side of my thigh I felt his member respond. Removing one hand from my thighs he began working the buckle holding the chastity strap between my legs free. This done he pulled it out and let it lay uselessly over my thigh as he started to pull at my panties.

`Bows', I said to him breathlessly. `There are bows on either side.' His fingers searched and found the twin bows on my left thigh and released them. The soft material fell loosely across my crotch as he began working his zipper. Before I even knew what hit me I felt him embed himself into me. I kissed him hard as his powerful arms lifted my body up and down along his cock. Strong as he was though even he couldn't keep that up forever and with a shock that shook the room I felt my back slam up against the wall.

`Oooowwwwww', I screamed into his mouth as I worked hard to keep our lips locked. The pain came from the buckles, as he pounded me into the wall each and every one of them had taken a bite out of my tender skin. Using his mouth like a gag, I continued to cry into it as his thrusts pushed me up against the hard surface behind me. Tears formed in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks, but the pain had now become fuel that was stoking my fire. I cried out in delight as I came and Greg grunted as I felt him flex his hips and then he came also. We shuddered as we held each other afterwards, nearly oblivious to the outside world as we finally began to breathe normally.

Fortunately, the models area came complete with a large restroom, so we were able to make ourselves presentable prior to going back to the offices. Greg once again the loving gentlemen went back into the room to find my missing panties and than generously re-tied them in place. I was happy to smooth down my skirt before it all started over again. Mr. Harrison found us at my desk with Greg leaning over me while I typed on the computer.

`So did you find the problem?' He asked.

`Yes', Greg responded while I continued to type. `When the web is worn as garment and not as a restraint the buckles end up in some pretty sensitive places.'

`Which is especially painful when your partner is pressing you up against something…' I heard the words slide from my lips before I had even thought of saying them. I looked up at the two men and felt my face reddening once again, so I quickly looked back to the monitor and muttered, `Like on a hard rug or something, I would imagine'.

Greg gently rubbed my shoulders reassuringly and covered up my gaff by suggesting potential solutions. Harry listened attentively and concurred with his second idea, then suggested that they call over to Stanton Enterprises and talk to one of the designers to get their input. The two men walked off after Greg gave me a last squeeze to my shoulders. I finished my letter to the ladies who had complained, explaining that we had found the problem and were working on a solution. For the time being though I suggested that if they were wearing the web, to try to get their partners to agree to make love on a soft couch or bed!

Late that afternoon both Greg and I were asked to join Mr. Thatcher in his office. He closed the door behind him and then he looked at Greg and said, `Greg I have your dad on the line' as he pointed to the speaker phone, `He wants to speak to you.'

Greg face grew grave and concerned as he moved closer to the phone, `Dad, are you OK? Is Cassy OK?'

`Michael that was the worst introduction that you've ever given me', Mr. Stanton growled over the line. `I'm fine son, just fine. You're new boss suggested something to me and than botched the opening that's all this is about.'

Mr. Thatcher looked unrepentant, `I wouldn't say that it was my suggestion it merely sounded like that was the direction you were obviously taking in the conversation, Arch.'

`Alright, alright, forget it', Mr. Stanton said more softly. `Greg it's just that Cassy wants to have a party for her birthday…'

`No problem', said Greg as he glanced at me. I nodded yes and he added, `You can count on us'.

`It's a bit more involved than that son. You see it's her 35th and I want to do something special for her and she asked me… well, it's not just any kind of party…' Mr. Stanton's voice faded into the distance.

`Heck if it's a costume party or a surprise party it's no problem Dad', Greg answered briskly. As for myself I was beginning to wonder what was making Mr. Stanton so uncomfortable and just how this concerned Mr. Thatcher.

`Arch, maybe I should take over', Mr. Thatcher said. Mr. Stanton's agreement sounded of relief and I looked at Mr. Thatcher's business-like face as he motioned for us to sit down. `Cassy would like to have a bondage party. It seems that she has always wanted to be bound with other women, not sexually, just helplessly bound in a group of other helplessly bound women. She told your dad about this awhile back and he came up with the idea of making her 35th birthday special by granting her wish. He asked Samantha and I to join them and we have accepted. Now your father and I were on the phone talking about the particulars, call it the rules for the evening and that's when he alluded to you two.'

`I didn't allude to anything, Michael', Mr. Stanton said now that the ice was broken. `It just seemed to me that now that you two are a couple it would make the evening a lot more fun for Cassy to have two women to be tied up with instead of just one.' Greg looked over at me and I felt frozen inside. No women, no group sex, no animals was my own mantra that began to play through my mind. Greg was watching my face but before he could say anything his father went on, `Don't misunderstand you two, neither the Thatcher's or your mom and I are into swapping and were not talking about having sex, just couples bondage.' I was reassured by this, yet the thought of bondage without sex seemed somehow… wrong.

Greg looked at me and I smiled and nodded, yes. `Dad, Sharon and I would love to help you celebrate Cassy's birthday', Greg said seriously. `Mind you I probably will find it difficult not to rescue her once you have her all tied up… just like the old days!'

`You young whippersnappers think that you know everything' Arch said as he couldn't help but laugh. His voice changed to a more serious tone, `Now what we are thinking about is some light bondage during the earlier part of the evening in the living room. Dinner will find the ladies bound to chairs in the dinning room where the gentlemen will be feeding their partners.

The finale is still being worked on but what Cassy has dreamed of is being suspended helplessly among a group of women. One thing that I know about Cassy is that despite being light as a feather she really doesn't like to be truly suspended off the ground, also because of her size she has become very accustomed to wearing very high heels.' Greg seemed to know something that I didn't as he grabbed Mr. Thatcher's catalogue off of the table and began rifling through it. `So I suggested to Michael that Sam and she where ballet boots, to give just that little bit of extra support that she likes. Samantha has agreed, but Michael decided that the ladies should also be wearing corsets as it is one of Sam's favorite forms of bondage. So the question is too you Sharon, would you feel comfortable under these circumstances?'

I looked over at Greg who was holding up the magazine and pointing at a picture, where a young woman was standing in a pair of knee high black leather boots that laced up the front and boasted an amazing nine inch heel! Could I even stand in a pair of nine inch heels I wondered quickly to myself? I shook myself mentally. It didn't matter I would have the ropes above me to hold onto and besides if Sam and Cassy could do it I could also.

`Sounds wonderful', I answered brightly, `We'll be there with bells on… or should I say I'll be there with boots on as the case may be!'

The men all laughed and I was gratified to see the approving looks that Greg was giving me. It really wasn't all that hard of a decision to make though, as my issue with groups really revolved around being used the way I had been when I was younger. The fact that I would be on display once more before others that reveled in binding women helplessly to their will in such a comfortable setting as this one was easy to consent to. In fact I think that like Cassy, the thought of being bound in a group of friends was actually very exciting!

As Greg and I drove home, my goodness I was already thinking of it as our home, we talked about the party the entire way. We started out with the more mundane issues of what clothes, lingerie and heels that I would bring with me to wear during the evening, but the discussion soon turned to our feelings about it. I opened up about how it excited me to think of being bound in front of the other couples. Greg admitted that he was equally thrilled because he couldn't wait to show off his own bondage prowess to these men that he had always thought of as bondage masters. For him it was kind of like being a golfer that made it into the Masters Tournament. He liked to think of himself as Tiger Woods and his father and Mr. Thatcher being Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicolas, respectively, at their primes. Having been bound by all three of them I smiled at his analogy and agreed with it implicitly. My Master was going to kick there collective butts… in a very nice way of course. Heck that's what family was for, right?

Over the next few days at the office things continued to move at a hectic pace. Lucinda corralled me to help her with planning Leather and Lace's involvement in the upcoming Bondage Convention. She had me begin by researching what was on the web about this year's convention and also by looking back at the past years conventions. My assignment was generally to look at how other companies like ours had supported their products sales and to find ways to improve our own methods.

Clicking on the conference web site I was pleased to see that our site was listed second on the front page right below the BDSM Toy Chest. I had visited that site before and knew that Summer, their premiere model, was a definite draw. However I felt that our own company's models and galleries were every bit as good or better. Lesser known sites followed those, but surprise surprise there was a Fredrick's banner there also! Hmmm, even a pure lingerie company could see the benefit of talking to this audience.

Reading the background material I was astounded by the numbers of patron's that they were expecting to show up which were anticipated to exceed twenty thousand! Dozens of bondage models and bondage sites were having live workshops at which they would present "how to's" and there best works. There were also a number of workshops that were looking for patron participation, which I personally thought was very interesting. However, I couldn't think of any practical employment of these events for our company.

The convenient link to the previous year's convention showed pictures of our and our competitor's booths. Outside of our companies grotto type look with the thick golden rope decoration we looked much like the others. Our wares were laid out on tables, in glass cases or simply hanging from various walls about the enclosure. My first thought was to spice it up by having a couple of our models present to show off how wonderful our products looked gracing a beautiful female form. I wrote this down as I thought how the models would attract more patrons to our kiosk.

Then I clicked on a link that totally mesmerized me. Within the convention there was to be a bondage competition with room for up to fifty couples to participate. I looked at the pictures from last year's competition and was not surprised to see that most of the couples were male / female with the male dominant, but that there was also a significant sprinkling of female / female teams. My, my, my, I thought, what must it have been like to be a part of that menagerie?

My musings ended abruptly as I opened the rules to this year's competition. The more I read, the drier my mouth became and the wetter my pussy. I had been surprised that there were no male submissive teams, but reading the rules the reasoning became evident. Oh, my god, it was incredible! It was like a Miss Bondage contest! I fell back into reading the document.

2004 BONDAGE CONTEST RULES

There will be four events during this competition. The first three events will be used to pick the six finalists. The fourth event will be used to pick the winner and first and second runners up.

1. "Revised" swimsuit competition. As in the Miss America competition contestants will walk down the runway and back, turn around fully and pose next to moderator. Contestant's arms must be immobilized and set away from rear and chest areas. Contestants will wear the following:

1. Classic corset, with push up half cup bra to show off nipples (waist must be at least four inches less than starting size to qualify).
2. Alligator clips on nipples with dangling two ounce weights (provided).
3. Six (6) inch stiletto high heels (Pumps, sandals, mules; NO boots!).
4. Gags (Ball, Tape, Scarf, etc. - Contestants choice).

Grading Basis:

• Looks, posture, stance...25%
• How well contestant walks in stiletto heels...25%.
• Gag snugness and sound muffling capability. (Pull on weights or paddle bottom to test, moderator decision.)...25%.
• How well contestants keep their faces either neutral or smiling (as much as possible around gag). No tears or obvious discomfort showing due to clips or other accouterments. Contestants are advised to practice quite a bit!...25%
  
  
  

2. Volcano Rock Walk. Event will consist of contestants walking across a bed of hot rocks measuring approximately 20 feet long. (Note: Rock surfaces never achieve temperatures of more than 150 degrees, less than hot cup of coffee, reducing actual danger. While being uncomfortable it is relatively safe and geared more towards spectator appreciation.) Contestants will wear the following:

1. Body suit of contestants choice (Preferably metallic colors; gold, silver, bronze, etc.).
2. Fire resistant slippers (provided to contestants for consistency).
3. Fire resistant tights (provided to the contestants for consistency).
4. Wrists will be tied to waist using leather belt and cuff arrangement.

Grading Basis:

• How quiet contestants can be despite pained peds...33%.
• How nimble / agile contestants show themselves to be negotiating the rocks...33%.
• How exciting contestants can make it seem (i.e. Make it look like fun)...33%.

3. Gauntlet. Event will consist of Contestants walking between a double row of their cohorts which will whip and paddle them. Implements will be limited to switches, light leather multi-blade whips and paddles. Contestants will wear the following:

1. Bra and Panties.
2. Six (6) inch stiletto high heels or satin ballet-like slippers. NOTE: Contestants choosing to wear slippers will have their ankles bound with only 10 inches of slack using leather ankle cuffs and chain. In this way contestants will be forced to navigate the gauntlet at a slower than desired pace, due to high heels or bindings. Contestants choosing heels will invalidate the use of paddles.
3. Wrists will be tied to neck using leather collar and cuff arrangement removing the ability of contestants to use their arms to protect their bodies.
   
   

Grading Basis:

• Completion of gauntlet without stumbling or going outside of the lane...33%.
• Keeping an erect posture, rather than a more crunched protective posture...33%.
• How quietly contestants can take the dished out punishment...33%.
  
  
  

FINALISTS ONLY

4. Timed Bondage Events. All contestants must be bound in the following positions.

1. Standard Hog-tie.
2. Pole-tie (either standing or kneeling).
3. Chair or Stool tie (either sitting or over)
4. Suspension tie (Upside down or right side up).
5. Elective (Contestants pick favorite bondage position. 20 minutes maximum allowed setup time).

NOTE: Contestants will be allowed to dress in any manner they feel appropriate (minimum bra and panties, crotch-less panties are allowed). Enhancements such as gags or blindfolds are allowed in all events. Further enhancements such as nipple clips, nipple rings, dildos, etc. can only be used in Elective event. All bondage's (except elective) will use rope (manila, nylon or cotton is the contestants choice).

Grading Basis: (A thru D)

• How quickly contestants and partner achieve bondage status...20%.
• How snug / tight is the rope work...20%.
• How appealing is the rope work...20%.
• How exciting does contestant look. (Happy, sad, etc. show of emotion)...20%.
• How does contestant look overall. Dress, enhancements and bondage statement combined...20%.

Grading Basis: (E)

• How inventive is contestant elective bondage...20%.
• How snug / tight is the bondage materials (rope, leather, etc.)...20%.
• How appealing are the bondage materials (rope, leather, etc.)...20%.
• How exciting does contestant look. (Happy, sad, etc. show of emotion)...20%.
• How does contestant look overall. Dress, enhancements and bondage statement combined...20%.
  
  

NOTES: This section is limited to Six finalists, due mainly to stage space restrictions.

• Hog-tie will be performed on raised glass table (roughly two and a half feet high) for best visual effect.
• Poles / Posts will be provided. Kneeling contestants will use telephone pole type pole and will be placed on special two foot high platforms. Standing contestants will use standard fence post thick poles.
• Chair or Stool will be anchored to wood bases. Contestants may request either, but for consistency purposes they will be provided by contest. Chairs are wooden with arms (colonial style). Stools are metal frame with padded seat, four legged, approximately three feet high. Warning: Stools are not recommended for bend over position (ankles bound to one set of legs and wrist to other) if contestant is less than five feet tall!
• Eight Foot square box frames will be provided for suspension bondage. Frames will include:
• Eight pulleys placed at corners, top, bottom, left and right sides.
• Pulleys will use cables with snaps connected to hand cranks.
• Contestants will provide all components of elective. (i.e. St. George's cross, wooden horses or other specially created implements.
• Each contestant will be allowed 10 minutes to rest and change between events.

GOOD LUCK AND HAPPY BINDINGS!!!

INFORMATIONAL:
As a reference to contestants the following items used in this competition can be obtained through the following vendors.

Corsets of the type used in event #1 and 6 inch heels are available through Absolute Corsets, Xandria's Leather Collection, Michael Salem Ent., Inc. and Dream Dressers, Inc.

Body suit (metallic colors) in event #2 can be obtained from Frederick's of Hollystone. Provided slippers come in gold, silver, bronze, green and red.

Satin bra, panties and satin slippers in event #3 are available through Victoria Secrets.

Contestant discounts have been arranged with all above mentioned vendors excluding Victoria Secrets.

The Video "2003 S&M Competition" and pictorials of last year competition, which ran in the March 2004 Bondage Life magazine, can be obtained through Unity Communications.

Please call the number provided in the cover letter for more information on any of the above.

HINTS:
The following is a short note from Barbara Betz, President of Unity Communications and presiding judge at this year's competition. (The famed Jay Leward and Simone Devlan will also be joining our judges this year!)

Dear Contestants,

Last year's competition yielded quite a bit of information which I am sure is of interest to all of you. Getting to the finals was, as intended, a trail in and of its self. The following are a few of the big winners and losers that the 2003 competition brought to light.

Lingerie was much preferred by the audience over the more traditional bra and panties outfits. Debra Craig, the winner of the 2003 competition, wore a zebra striped corset with matching stockings and high heels in her elective bondage event. Baby Dolls, Teddy's and surprisingly long gowns with waist high slits were also rated high on the audience questionnaires. Leather was less in evidence than in previous years, with more of a move to softer fabrics such as silks, satins and spandex. Leather still came on strong in the corset arena, however, but it does seem that the soft feminine look is back in vogue.

Crotch ropes also caused quite a stir. Applause went rampant as the judges tested the ropes for tightness and snugness. This also caused the rule change allowing crotch-less panties in this year competition. Ms. Craig, a legal secretary by day, wore ropes between her ass cheeks and vagina in four of five bondage events. She stated, "The extra time involved was totally worth the crowds appreciation and don't let anyone tell you the judges aren't swayed by the crowd." I have to agree with Debra that the crowd does influence our view of the contestants overall bondage statement, and therefore does have an effect of our grading of the event.

The big losers last year were boots, especially the thigh high ones which were predominant in earlier years. Many respondents to our questionnaire felt that they detracted from the rope work and reduced the bondage statement. The big winners in footwear were high heels and believe it or not slippers! Hence, the change to this year requirements that heel height be increased to six inches from previous years four and over inches.

As a last note on footwear, last year contestant Elsa Berg, put on quite a show during the runway event in her specially crafted seven and a quarter inch spiked heel pumps! She walked exceedingly well in these pumps with their incredibly high stiletto heel's and actually made it look easy. Other contestants were allowed to try to walk in them, but none were able to master the tricky heels. I, myself, a person much accustomed to wearing five and six inch heels, could not stand without help in them!

Finally, stockings hide many sins.... use them to your advantage! Those of you wishing to use fishnet stockings look into the newest version of this tired and true stocking. They are basically two stockings in one. A basic nude color stocking covered with the fishnet stocking. These look much better than the normal type and photograph very well!

Again I wish you all the best and remember even those of you who do not go on to the finals, will have experienced the fun and excitement of this grand competition!

After I finished, I buzzed Lucinda and asked if I could see her. She told me to come to her office in ten minutes, so I continued to look at the pictures and read about last year's bondage competition. Walking into Lucinda's office she asked me if I was OK, because I looked awfully flushed.

`I'm fine mam', I answered as I knew that Lucinda preferred to be called mam at work. `It's just that I was reading through the materials that you asked me to look at…'

`Ah, I see', she said with a knowing wink.

`… and I wanted to tell you some of my ideas', I added without rising to her slight taunt. First, I told her about my idea to add models into the mix of our kiosks and she thought that it was a wonderful idea. She even added that the models would be happy to model specific items, excluding vaginal or anal penetration if the customer agreed to pay for the item. Next, commented on the fact that we weren't even listed as potential suppliers of product in the contest rules. This resulted in her immediately picking up the phone and tackling that situation. I sat quietly and waited until she was finished and then popped my idea that we should have a have our own team enter the bondage competition, explaining that it would be like car and oil companies supporting the race car driver of their choice.

`Sorry, it just won't work', Lucinda told me. I asked for her reasoning and she just told me it wasn't practical, when I continued to press the subject she called in Mr. Harrison. In fairness to her she represented my case to Mr. Harrison honestly and didn't add any of her own negativity, and he just sighed and turned to me.

`Sharon, we've been over this ground before', Mr. Harrison began. `The problem is finding the right people to represent the company. We've tried approaching some of the couples that have been involved for a number of years, but none have been interested. We've also looked at having one of our models and a hired bondage rigger become our spokes people, but to get far enough in the competition to get our products and name noticed is unlikely with this kind of team. You see they really need to be a unit to work together effectively and just throwing two people together, would never get them past round one.'

Mr. Harrison shrugged his shoulders, `So now you can see our dilemma. Yes, it would be a great way to showcase our products by having a couple entered in the competition, but coming up with the couple is the problem. If you can think of a way to solve this I would love to hear it.'

The meeting broke up after that and I went back to my research. I still couldn't believe what an opportunity that we were missing. Putting our products on display before thousand and thousands of people that were our perfect audience had to boost sales. I also knew from my own experience with clothing that if I found a line that worked for me, I stayed with it, so if we could just get them to try our products we could generate a potential life time of sales.

Once again I read through the contest rules, this time paying special attention to what the contestants were supposed to wear during each event. This was my third time through and each time the thoughts that raced through my mind as I carefully read each line were like nothing that I had ever experienced before. All of these submissive's were dressing and competing for the honor of their Masters, to bring them happiness through their obedience which would be shown to all the world and also for… themselves. I thought of this as I read the account from the winner of last years competition. She was proud of herself, just like an athlete who had won a great race.

I was doodling on the contest rules when Mr. Thatcher called me. He was over at our photo agency which did all of our shoots and he was looking at setting up our next years Valentine and spring issues. I knew all of this as I kept his schedule so I wondered when he would get to the point. When he did I was taken aback although I suppose that I shouldn't have been.

`You want me to model for the two issues?' I repeated dumbly.

`Yes, Sharon', he replied easily. `We were talking about looking for a fresh face and the first person I thought of was you.'

`I see', I said as my mind began to grapple with the situation.

`I was thinking purely of the lingerie part of the catalogue', Mr. Thatcher obviously trying to make me feel more comfortable with the situation. `The Valentine's catalogue alone has dozens of special items with lots of hearts and red in them which would go perfectly with your skin tone.'

By now I had pulled myself together. For sometime now I had been thinking of what I would do when this call came and now it was time to implement my plans. `That's wonderful, sir. Yes, I would love to model lingerie in the Valentine's catalogue. However, I would also like to be considered for other portions of the assignment also. Isn't the spring issue the one that we are going to launch Mr. Stanton's new bondage furniture line?'

`Why, yes, Sharon it is', he replied. `But in all honesty we were not thinking of using models in those shots.'

`Mr. Thatcher I seem to recall being tied rather tightly to a so-called card table of Mr. Stanton's firm design', I began slyly. `Personally I can attest to its comfort and also its ability to totally restrain me.' Finally I moved in for the kill. `Now, sir, don't you think that if your ad pictured me perched upon that table perfectly immobilized that you would sell more of them?'

`Hmmm, by George you are right, my dear', he exclaimed excitedly. I heard him telling the other people with him what was being suggested and flushed just a bit when he went into graphic detail about how wonderful my bound breasts looked mashed against the soft leather cover of the table. Then he was back on the line, `You are on young lady! The shot is going to be held about ten weeks from now, I tell you exactly when as it is all settled. Thank you very much you truly are a godsend!'

I was going to be a model! Not just any model but a bondage model! This was so cool, that I couldn't believe it. I would finally experience what all of those women who worked with Greg must have felt. With that thought I began to wonder who would be the rigger for the shot. Would it be Mr. Thatcher himself, Greg, or maybe even some else that I didn't know at all? Boy, I hope it was Greg that would be great to be working with him… hmmm, yummy!

Looking down at the paper in front of me, I started reading my own doodling. For each of the events I had listed outfits that I owned that would be perfect for the competition. Including multiple idea's for the elective bondage section. Even the finale was covered with the words in all caps and underlined `SOFT LEATHER WAIST BUSTER CORSET' and next to it my own sketch of an hourglass shaped figure with arrows pointing out the nipped waist.

That's when it hit me. Hit me like a lightening bolt. My breathing started to come in short gasps and I felt so excited and scared all at the same time that I wondered if I was having a heart attack. I was a bondage model, or at least I was going to be one and Greg was a rigger, who better to represent Leather and Lace in the bondage competition than the two of us? Oh God, could I do it though? Put myself on display in front of thousands of people while I was bound and heck, there was no pussy footing around this issue… tormented. I pictured myself standing bound in my corset in front of a hungry crowd and immediately I could feel my pulse quicken and my loins warm. Oh my God the thought was exciting me beyond my own belief. Yes, yes, I could do this!

With that decision made firmly in my own head I began to think how to broach the subject with Greg. With the exception of his agreeing to this party he had been adamant during all of our discussions about bondage that he wanted to keep our sexual lives to ourselves. He had told me about bondage groups that operated about the country at which Master's could and did display their slaves to their peers, but it just didn't interest him. The only person that he wanted to display me to was himself, selfish is the way that he had described this desire with a laugh. I hadn't thought much of the whole thing at the time because there had been so many things for me to learn and think about, but now I wondered if Greg would change his mind on this issue.

The entire drive home I fretted about when and how to ask him and each time I worked up the nerve I backed down at the last second. Greg had me dress in a long white night gown after I had worked out and showered. So I found myself making dinner in my lacey peignoir set complete with a set of five inch spike heeled satin slides with marabou tufts as I continued to gnaw at the problem. I though idly that gliding about the kitchen in my high heels was becoming nearly second nature. Greg was continually pushing me towards higher and higher heels, so nearly every night and often during the day he would have me wearing heels.

Maybe that was my "in" I thought immediately. Maybe I could sell this whole idea to him as him proving what an excellent Master and trainer he was! He had told me countless times that he hated to fail yet at the same time loved a good challenge, what could be a better challenge of his skills than this?

Greg told me that he wanted to practice for the party this weekend, so he tied me to one of the armed dining room chairs. My arms were wrapped tightly to each of the arms, by a continuous coil of nylon rope. My chest was bound with double strands both above and below my breasts with a crossed "X" through the center. The ropes binding my hips to the chair and those that circled my legs tightly at knee and ankle caused my gown to billow about my gams. All and all I was very comfortable, yet utterly helpless as Greg began to feed me.

As he finished feeding the both of us we talked as the candles burned lower in their silver sconces. The dark wood of the table reflected a hazy form of the small fire as I turned my gaze downward. `Hmmm, Master, I had this idea today that I think would really improve sales at L&L', I started hesitantly. Greg immediately wanted to know what it was and I began my story by telling him of my suggestion to Lucinda that we should get a couple to represent us as the Bondage Conferences bondage contest. I explained how this would allow us to show off our companies wares in a way that no other vendor would be able to compete with and followed that up with my feeling that once a customer tried our products that they would stay with us for a long time to come. He agreed whole heartedly mirroring my first thoughts about what a wonderful opportunity that this would be for the firm. Then I dropped the boom and told him about the conversation with Mr. Harrison and why we had not been able to find a couple to sponsor. Greg leaned back in his chair and swore, folding his arms his face clouded in serious thought.

Timidly I said, `I do think that I have found a way around the problem, would you like to hear it?'

`Yes, sure baby', he said as his face opened up to a smile.

`We enter the contest', I said softly.

`Yeah, I understand that part. The company enters into the contest, but who are we going to get to sponsor?' Greg asked.

`We, you and I, are the team that the company sponsors', I said even more softly as I looked again at the fuzzy outline of the candle dancing on the table top.

`Are you crazy baby?' Greg asked me incredulously. `Do you have any idea what those couples go through to train for this event? No, of course you don't. Listen honey, think of it like the Olympics of the bondage world. The teams that compete at these conventions have been together for years and years. They know each others moves cold, so that they are constantly assisting the other, during each and every tie. Then they practice for months in advance to hone their skills to there absolute maximum before they even think of entering into this contest. Oh, sure there are always a few couples that just enter for the pure fun of it but they are generally eliminated in the first round and I don't think any of those walk on couples have ever made it to the elective rounds. All that would happen if we entered would be for us to get eliminated early.' Greg shook his head in the negative. `No, baby' he told me softy, `it doesn't make any sense for us to compete.'

`Greg… Master', I pleaded softly as I leaned forward as far as possible within the constraints of my bounds. `I'm going to be a bondage model for the company… and I love being bound by you… you are a rigger with years of experience, couldn't you teach me?'

`Are you crazy?' he nearly shouted at me. `You are so green behind the ears that it's a wonder that plants aren't growing there!' He saw my face flush and relented somewhat. `Yes, you do have great potential and are absolutely priceless to me, new comer or not, but teach you things that it takes years to learn, in what… six weeks, nope it's impossible.'

`I thought that you liked a challenge… Master', I goaded as I looked him directly in the eye.

He leaned over the table until our faces were nearly touching and gave me a grave look, `You are overstepping your bounds baby. I've said no and that is that.'

`But…' I stuttered.

Greg left the room and returned with my new penis gag. `That but is going to cost you baby', he told me sternly. He held the penis to my lips and I opened my mouth obediently. Angrily he pushed in the rubber rod until the leather base mashed up against my lips. I began to choke as the rough head slammed into the back of my throat and tears came unbidden to my eyes. I calmed myself as he roughly buckled the gag into place along the side of my face. With that done he began to remove all of my other bonds. `You will clean up the table and the kitchen and then meet me in the computer room. There I will remove your gag and you will blow me. You will not say another word unless I specifically ask you a question, for the rest of the evening. Do you understand?'

I nodded my head yes as I stood up and began to complete my assigned tasks. It was very difficult to clean and pick up dishes and such as that involved bending my neck. Each time I did that it would force the pseudo cock head to rub against the back of my throat and make me gag. Once I learned to keep my neck straight and bend my upper body from the hips to look downward, which was very similar to what I had to do when wearing a tightly laced corset. Regardless, once I had this trick down I could get back to the problem at hand, which was how to get Greg to change his mind!

The next day dawned bright and clear, yet I was still no closer to an answer. I shifted my body to let the hot spray of the shower play over my aching shoulders. Greg hadn't been content with my punishment only lasting the half hour or so it took me to clean up, so after his blow job, he bound me once again before putting me to bed for the evening. The single sleeve arm binder that I had been forced to sleep in had left my shoulders more sore than if I had worked out with heavy weight for the whole night! With my ankles tied crossed I was forced to remain lying on my stomach, which is a position that I hate to sleep in. That combined with the uncomfortable arm binder had led to a night of very little sleep and aching shoulders.

Stepping from the shower I toweled myself dry and began the process of dressing for work. When I was just about finished, with only my earrings to apply, Greg stopped into the room and crocked his finger in a follow me movement. I did so and once again ended up between his knees in the computer room, sucking his cock while he enjoyed looking at his pictures of me helplessly bound on the monitor before him.

I was pissed to high heavens when I was done. Not, at blowing him, that was kind of fun. No, it was my lipstick that ticked me off. I had just put on L'Oreals Color Endure lip color, which was supposed to last eight hours, but it hadn't survived even one blow job! You would think that those cosmetic companies would be able to come up with a lipstick that would last through a blow job, wouldn't you? Heck, most of there marketing people were probably women so they had to know about the problem, so why hadn't they found a way to fix it? The only product that came close was Revlon's Colorstay Overtime. And now I wished that I had thought to wear it, so that I didn't have to totally clean off my remaining lipstick and apply a totally new coat.

The ride to the office started out quiet, but then Greg began to talk. `I may have been a little hard on you last night, but I want you to understand that when I say no that I mean no. OK?'

`Yes, Greg' I said evenly, `I understand.' I didn't say that I agreed only that I understood. You had to go with the letter of the law sometimes and not just the intent if you were determined to get what you wanted.

`Good', he said satisfied. `It is just that the amount of training that you would need would require that we would basically have to do nothing else but train for the next month or so. I'm not talking about just evening and weekends, I'm talking about days too. That means we would have to quit working to get enough time to train enough to get us to the point where we could be contenders. Darn, I would even need the practice to get back up to my own peak performance. I've been out of the rigging game for some time and being behind the camera isn't the same thing at all.' Greg shook his head sadly.

Having him talking me through his thinking was a good sign. He was now at least letting me understand where he was coming from and that meant that I still had a chance. However I obviously had to be very careful in how I suggested any changes. `Greg, can I just ask one question?'

`Yes', he replied warily.

`If you had all the time that we needed do you think that it is even remotely possible?' I asked very softly.

Greg grunted, `I suppose that it would be possible.'

`OK', I replied.

`OK?' he asked.

`Yes', I answered him. `That's all I wanted to know.' Greg grunted again and mumbled something about troublesome submissive's as we turned into the parking lot at work. I vowed to myself not to say anything else about the contest until he brought it up again. With my last little comments I figured that he would be stewing about the convention for quite awhile. Further I was going to keep the issue front and center to Lucinda and the other partners so that he couldn't help hearing about it. I smiled to myself and thought of what the lady at the hardware store had said. She was right there were plenty of ways for a good submissive to influence her Top!

Work continued to be a pleasure, but Greg and I did run into one personal snag. We had been trying to get ballet boots for this weekend's party, but we weren't having any luck. The product closet only showed samples and even if I wanted to wear them they were three sizes too large. Even a desperate call to his Dad had proven useless, it seemed that all of these boots were custom ordered and came from overseas. He did have a pair of thigh high's in white patent leather that were coming in for another customer that he could divert to us, but Greg thanked him for the thought but refused. First off he didn't want to risk a $500 sale for Stanton Enterprises and second he didn't like the way white would look with my red and black corset.

Lucinda saved the day later that afternoon. She came by with a large white box which she placed on my desk. I looked up from my computer screen and she smile down at me. `Ah dear girl' she said smoothly, `I've heard about your problems with getting boots for Greg's father's party and I thought that maybe these would help.'

I opened the lid of the box and pushed aside the soft protective tissue paper. I gasped and stuttered, `My goodness, they are absolutely stunning!' Inside the box was a pair of candy apple red patent leather ballet shoes. The shoes looked very much like a ballet slipper perched upon a stiletto heel and thoughtfully provided numerous straps to hold restrain the heavily arched foot into the shoe. Across the instep were a crossed set of straps and around the ankle was yet another strap, both closed with shinning silver buckles. I finally pried my eyes away from the incredible heels and beamed a smile at Lucinda. I began to stutter a vote of thanks then gave up and just leapt from my chair and hugged her. `Thank you', I breathed into her ear. `They are just perfect for the party.'

Greg's eye had been caught by all of the commotion and soon he was over admiring the ballet heels also. `There wonderful Lucinda', he echoed my emotions, `but where did you get them?'

Lucinda gently broke away from me and made a dismissive gesture with her hands. `It was nothing. I know that you were looking for boots, and I just thought that while these aren't exactly boots they would still fit the bill for you party plans.' I had picked up one of the shoes and murmured to Greg that I would never be able to walk in them. Greg just smiled, but Lucinda answered first, `I could train you to walk in them… if you wanted. Not by the Friday, but perhaps you would like to learn in the future.'

Before I could answer, Greg smiled and said, `I think that I'll be training the lady for sometime to come, but thanks again for the shoes… and the offer.' He paused for a minute and asked again, `But where did you get them? Heck even dad couldn't get me a pair in time.'

`Oh, I had had them made for a young woman that I thought would enjoy working with me. But I was mistaken, so I was never able to gift her with these. Now at least they won't be going to waste.' Lucinda said lightly, but there was a gleam in her eye that seemed to be saying something that her words were not. I shook it off as she left and Greg and I went back to discussing the wonderful heels.

The remainder of the week went along smoothly. I continued my silent campaign to influence Greg to change his mind, by mentioning different tidbits to each of the partners about the conference and the people participating in the bondage contest. I mentioned how a number of the contestants last year, though not aligned to any companies products, had still plugged many of these companies when they described their activities in each of the events. Mr. Thatcher even went as far as to say at a group meeting that it was a shame that we didn't have a couple that we could sponsor for the competition as it would really boost our sales. Lucinda agreed and then she and Mr. Harrison ran through the issues, once again, for all that hadn't heard them previously. Greg gave me a questioning look, but didn't say anything to me about it.

The only question that I did ask him about as we practiced for the parties activities one evening was if he remembered his vow that I would be given "one unconditional decision" in our relationship. In essence I had won it as payment from the bondage challenge back at the hotel a few weekends past. Oh, I had definitely lost my bet, where I had said that he couldn't come up with three exciting bondage sessions with only what was in the hotel room. My Lord, I had lost it big time! There wasn't one of the three bondages that didn't have my heart pounding and make my pussy beg for attention! Hmmm, just thinking about that weekend made me hot… Yes, I had lost, but being such a loving Master he had granted me my wish as if I had won.

Fortunately, Greg remembered it well. After reminiscing about the incredible sex and bondage he told me that he still was on board with his decision. Of course, I should have a say in where we buy our house, the décor or some such decision and yes, I still had my one "unconditional" pass to be used as I desired. He tried to find out if I had chosen my topic for my "pass", but I maneuvered the subject back to the party until he was totally distracted. Oh, I had no doubt that Greg would honor his promise, but I needed him to honor it body and soul because I could see that what we faced was no simple task. To gain this commitment I really needed him to decide that it was the right thing to do all on his own. Of course a little push in the right direction never hurt!

Cassiopeia's Party

The evening of the party found me carrying two cases out to the car. One was laden with lingerie, stockings, panties and of course my corset and the other contained a host of heels, slippers and my new ballet shoes. Greg was hefting his bag of tricks, which he had paired down significantly so it would fit in a leather shoulder bag that was the size of a small duffle. I couldn't imagine what he thought that he needed to bring that would be taking up so much room. Heck, rope, cuffs, and gags just didn't take up all that much space, but it wasn't my place to question my Master so I let it slide.

On the drive over Greg began a running commentary reminding me of all of the things that I should be doing as a proper submissive during the evening. He went on to outline how to aid him by moving my body in the proper directions at the proper times while he was binding me. Greg specifically wanted to be first to finish in any of these sessions where the three men would be binding up their lovers simultaneously. He had been over all of this ground before when he was practicing tying me up, but he seemed intent on showing his father and Mr. Thatcher that he was as good as them and if all went perfectly, that they would acknowledge him as the `best'.

`For someone that doesn't want to be in a competition, you seem really competitive about a simple party', I said lightly with a slight smile just cresting my lips.

Greg looked over at me for a second and frowned, `I realize that that little quip was directed at the bondage competition, but I'm going to let that slide for a minute.' He looked back to the road as a smile spread across his face. `Yes, I am competitive about this party, because to me this is like getting into the worlds series for the first time. Dad has been my hero for years and years. Sure I rebelled a bit in order to find out who I wanted to be, but I never thought that he wasn't a good dad or for that matter a top notch Master.' His face turned thoughtful before he went on. `It was dad's relationship with Cassy that taught me what it was to be a Master. Dad and I didn't talk outright about it, except for a couple of times over too many beers, but Cassy and I talked about it quite a bit.' He smiled over at me. `So now I just want to show him that I've mastered his example and have moved on to gain even greater heights.'

`Wow', I said in surprise. `That's quite a load to put on your own shoulders for a simple party!'

He laughed, `No problem baby, it would take a small miracle for either of those gents to beat an ex-rigger.' Greg turned serious once more before continuing. `Now, as to us competing in the competition at the convention, I have been thinking about it and I do see your point. I'm still working my mind around the issues involved in even attempting such a thing, but I am rescinding my command forbidding you to talk of it to me. Would you like to talk about it now?'

`I'm… ah…' I stumbled for words. I hadn't expected this change at all. I shut my mouth which was hanging open like a hooked fish pulled out of the water. Nothing I could think of to say at the moment would help change his mind, so I did my best to be pleasing. `No, thank you Master. I appreciate the offer but I think that we have enough on our plate for the moment with wining you your wings at this party. Afterwards, if you wish, we can talk of it.'

Greg pulled into his parent's driveway and after bringing the car to a stop, looked over at me. His eyes were burning, but not with anger. No they were burning with what I could only classify as desire or perhaps love. He stroked my left cheek gently and then began to softly run his fingers though my hair. `You've truly taken to this life like a duck to water, haven't you?' He asked me in a way that needed no answer. `You are my perfect princess, my perfect lover and it makes my heart leap when I think of you as my perfect love slave. For though your are a babe in the woods in this world, it is as if you have found yourself, for not even someone experienced in this life could have said that any better than you just did.' He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. `You do me proud baby.'

Tears of happiness welled in my eyes and I blinked them back as I whispered huskily in the only voice that I could manage, `Thank you Master.'

Cassy and Sam greeted us at the door they were still in their street clothes also, which made me feel right at home. Cassy shrieked as she hugged me, `Isn't this great! That bum of a husband of mine only told me this morning, but I do love him dearly for setting this all up. This is going to be so much fun!' I don't know what she was like as a teenager, but with her small elfin frame and with the words flying out of her mouth in that happy / excited way she definitely reminded me of some of my friends from those slumber parties of long ago. Each of the women grabbed one of my bags in one hand and then braced me on either side as they led me upstairs to the master bedroom.

I gave Greg a last look and shrugged my shoulders at him in resignation as they dragged me off. He just smiled and gave me a wave as his father put his arm around his shoulder and a drink into his hand.

Walking into Cassy's bedroom I couldn't help but gasp. The room was filled with lingerie, gowns, corsets, shoes, boots and slippers. They were hanging from doors, lying on the bed, over bureaus, heck they were everywhere! `My goodness', I said finding my voice. `It's pretty easy to see what companies your husbands work for!'

`Oh, this is just the tip of the ice berg', Cassy said in that southern drawl of hers that I found so difficult to associate with her euro-Asian looks. `Arch has given me enough lingerie over the years that I could wear a different piece every night and still not have worn the same one twice for an entire year!'

`Michael is the same way', Samantha added. `Yet somehow he remembers every piece, because every once in awhile he will ask me to wear some obscure outfit that I hadn't worn in ages!' She waved to the left. `Now, my stuff is over here to the left and Cassy's is draped across the middle of the room, leaving you the chaise lounge, the vanity and a couple of chairs.'

`Will that be enough room honey?' Cassy asked in a concerned voice. `I could always move some of my things.'

I laughed as I held up my one bag. `Ladies, I barely have a dozen outfits with me, a few of which are so revealing that they hardly take up any room at all, so I am sure that that there will be plenty of room.' In minutes we were all laughing together while we unloaded my small case. The women, gave out some `ews' and `ahs' and gabled about some of the items that we all had in common. It didn't surprise me to find that they had some of the same outfits as me, with such large collections how could we fail to have a number in common. What did surprise me was that both women had every one of the outfits that I had brought with me!

`This is great', Sam and Cassy cried together. `We can all wear the same outfits or at the very least very similar ones, in different colors, when our Lords and Master decide what they want us to wear!' We finished arranging all of my outfits across the lounge like couch in the corner of the huge room and lined up my even larger selection of heels and slippers beneath it. Cassy loved my leather kid skin slippers and we exchanged vendor names as she told me where she had her custom satin slippers made. Samantha was much more into high heeled satin slides than the soft ballet slippers as she said that her husband simply had to have her in heels during a session. `Oh and he just delights in tying them to my feet', she laughed as she held up one of my marabou feather tufted satin slides. `It's as if he really believes that I would take them off if I had the chance. Why would I want to do that?' She asked us, to which we both just shook our heads in the negative. `Exactly, my thoughts' she exclaimed. `It makes him happy and he makes me happy, so why would I want to upset the apple cart?'

`Ah', Cassy said with a smile. `Perhaps it is not that he doesn't trust you, but more that he just likes to tie the sandals to your feet!' She lifted the hem of her skirt to show the distinct lines made by tightly applied rope circling her upper thighs. `Just this afternoon, while we were playing, Arch tied my thighs together at nearly crotch level. Now there was no way that I was going to escape after he had me tied at the ankles, and above and below the knees. So the additional bindings at my thighs were put there just because he wanted to and… of course… because he knew that he could do with me whatever pleased him!' Cassy smiled and licked her lips like a cat. `Yummy, thought isn't it!' We all laughed together and then told similar stories like girls at a sorority party.

As we were chatting away happily, a buzzing sound filled the air. Cassy rose from the chair which she had been sitting in and went over to the intercom built into the end table next to the bed. `Yes Sir, what can we do for you?'

Mr. Stanton's voice came through the twin speakers remarkably clearly, `We are ready for you ladies to come and join us', he said jovially. `In fact if you would be so kind as to all come dressed in baby dolls, stockings and heels it would be greatly appreciated.'

`Yes Sir', Cassy answered her husband deferentially. `We will be there as soon as we are decent. Opps, or perhaps I should say as soon as we are indecent, as per your gentlemen's wishes!'

We could hear all of the men laughing through the speakers and then Arch said, `That will be fine tinkerbell. We will see you shortly.' The sound of the men's voices cut off abruptly as we both stared at Cassy in askance.

Cassy blushed and then blurted out. `He thought that I was petite and magical and I always wore those little satin ballet slippers so he named me tinkerbell.' We both began to laugh and she got even redder, `What, your Master's didn't give you slave names?' She was obviously a bit angry and I didn't in anyway want her to feel that way.

`Oh yes, Cassy', I answered her swiftly as I wiped the smile off of my face. `Greg just gave me my slave name… although I like to think of it as my love slave name… I'm baby.'

`Michael named me angel years ago', chimed in Samantha. `Though he swears he should change it to vixen sometimes!' That broke the mood and we all looked from one to the other and than in unison circled into a big group hug. I loved being Greg's love slave, but there was something really special about feeling that I wasn't the only one. Knowing that Sam and Cassy loved and were loved by their Masters / husbands removed the last vestiges in my mind that I was perhaps doing something wrong. Conversely, as we broke our hug and I looked into my sisters in bondage eyes, I had never felt so at peace and assured of my new position in life.

Cassy, being the eldest, took charge at that moment. She turned to me and said, `Why don't you pick the outfit honey and we will copy you.'

I had already been thinking of just what baby doll to pick, knowing how it would thrill my master. I picked up one of the baby dolls off of the chaise lounge. `This one would be perfect. Greg loves seeing me in red', I told them as I held up a velvet red mini-gown, `and with white ribbon trim it will go perfectly with my white fishnet stockings and my red patent leather sandals.' I slid out of my clothing in seconds letting it pool by my feet and then shimmied into the sexy night gown. The top was too tight and padded which forced my breasts together and upwards creating a lovely bit of cleavage between my smooth twin tanned mounds. I unraveled the fishnets swiftly up my legs and clamped them solidly into pace with the red garters dangling from beneath the flowing hem that circled my hips. While I worked on the front clasps I felt Cassy and then Samantha working on the opposite garter clasps at the back of my legs. The two of them then went to work straightening out the seams that were always such a pain when you had no one to help you. I can't remember how many times I had been bent over nearly double in recent weeks, looking at a full length mirror from between my legs while I worked feverishly to make sure the stockings seams were straight. Having Cassy and Sam's help it took only seconds to achieve what often took me up to ten minutes! I picked up a pair of crotch-less red lace panties in one hand and my pair of spiked heeled sandals in the other and went over to the vanities chair.

`My, my, my', Cassy said with a smile of approval. `You are really starting out will all the big guns aren't you!'

`Hugh, what do you mean?' I asked innocently.

`Well, unless I miss my guess that baby doll is a size too small which is what is making it squeeze and shape your bosom into that shape that is bound to make grown men drool in delight.' Cassy said nonchalantly.

I blushed a little as I looked down at my breasts. She was exactly right, it was a size to small and I knew it when I picked it out. No, it wasn't the most comfortable fit, but the effect it had on Greg's libido was well worth a little discomfort. Besides, I had no intention of sleeping in this gown as its job was to fill a much more interesting need in my wardrobe.

Cassy continued before I could say anything. `Oh and those panties… hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.' She grinned at me like a small feral feline and I knew that something was expected of me, but I couldn't figure out what.

Samantha hopped on the bandwagon, `Oh and those six inch Exposed sandals. Couldn't have started out those five inch red satin slides with the puff of red feathers, hmmm?'

At first I was wondering if I had done the right thing by picking out my outfit without their input, but then I saw them giving little secret glances to each other. They were pulling my leg! The little imps! I put the heels down at the foot of the chair and stood up straight until my full five feet seven inch frame was towering over them. In clipped tones, straight from my old sainted grammar school principle I told them, `My master loves to see me in red and white. They are two of his favorite colors and I love to please him, hence my choice of colors. The open crotch panties are because he likes to have me available to him at anytime and while I know that this isn't a sex party, I don't see any reason to take that liberty away from him. As for the heels…' I couldn't help myself and broke down into strangled laughter. I continued in a light laughing voice… `As for the heels, well they are the only ones that high that I can walk in without killing myself!'

We all laughed and Sam shouted, `You go girl!' I guess it had been a kind of initiation test. Cassy and Sam had probably known all of each others secrets and now they had this still wet behind the ears newbie to play with… me. Cassy opened her arms and I moved into her hug. She was surprisingly strong as she pulled me to her and buried her chin into the top of my breasts. `Oh, you and my Greg are going to make a fine pair! That spirit of yours will keep him coming back for more time and time again, I will guarantee you that!' She stepped away from me and I could see that there were tears in her eyes as she looked up at me. `I guess that I am going to have to stop thinking about him as my Greg, aren't I?' She asked me softly and I nodded my head yes, in agreement. Reaching out her hands, I met her half-way and our fingers intertwined as they met. `I was never his mother, because that part of him died in that terrible auto accident, but I have always loved him like one.' Her eyes pooled with water until finally the tears ran down her cheeks. `You know he still calls me from time to time and let me tell you that that boy loves you like he has loved no other.' I felt my own eyes tearing. I already knew that Greg loved me, but knowing he told Cassy was really special. `Now I know I'm not really his mother, but I couldn't be anymore happy for the two of you if I were!' We hugged again and I found my own tears cascading down my cheeks as I thanked her and told her how happy her acceptance made me feel.

Thank God, for Samantha. She hugged us both and brought us back to reality. `Ladies, times `a wasting and our men folk are expecting us down stairs pronto. So we had best put a wiggle on, especially with you two having to fix your makeup also!'

Cassy led the way into the living room where the men were standing around the wet bar conversing. I smiled in delight as I saw them all look up in unison as we sashayed into the room in size order. As we had discussed Cassy reached a point about six feet from the men and stopped in place. There she spread her legs and planted her hands on her hips as Samantha moved to her left and I to her right and completed the same maneuver.

Cassy's baby doll was hunter green with white trim, which really worked with her dark hair and petite euro-Asian features. She also wore suntan seamed stockings with her white patent leather sandals. Sam wore the same outfit in maroon with black lace trim and black textured stockings that were covered with woven roses. This worked well with her auburn hair and she wore her Exposed sandals in black patent. We stood there not saying a word, simply smiling at our respective men.

`My, my, my, Michael I thought that you cancelled the call for those high priced hookers', Arch said with a chuckle.

`Oh, but I did, Arch. These lovely ladies must be our lovely ladies. Don't you think so Greg?' Mr. Thatcher said playing straight man to Mr. Stanton perfectly.

`Oh, I certainly hope so', responded Greg earnestly. `Otherwise I would be diving behind the bar because I would have thought that we were be being attacked by the fembots!'

The men laughed at my man's lame joke regarding the latest Austin Powers movie, but looking over at my girl friends I did realize that all we needed were the feathered tufted slippers to qualify. In seconds, I was in Greg's arms and he was hugging me and running his fingers through my hair. `You are absolutely gorgeous', he whispered in my ear as the other men greeted there wives in similar manners.

Greg's dad stepped back from the group and began in a loud and happy voice, `Thank you all for coming to Cassy's birthday party. I won't boar you with how old she is but I will say that everyday that I have known her she has brought nothing but happiness and tranquility into my life. She is the sun and the moon to me and is the Goddess of my dreams…' You would think that being dressed as she was in front of a room full of people that she couldn't get anymore embarrassed, but none-the-less Cassy blushed deeply at her husband and Masters words. `… and because she is so special to me I wanted to find a way to show her how I feel. Cassy has been telling me of her dreams of being amongst a group of intimate friends where she is bound along side of other ladies, so this seemed the best way to make her fantasies into reality. Hence our first, hopefully annual, bondage birthday party was born.' He turned to his wife and bowed, `Is there anything that you would like to add darling?'

Cassy walked directly up to Mr. Stanton and even with her six inch heels needed to stand on tip toes in order to give him a happy peck on the lips. `Thank you Archibald', she said in her very southern accent that could at times seem a bit disconcerting coming from her beautiful Asian features. `This is one of the happiest days of my life and you do me a great honor by deigning to make my dreams into reality.' She lowered her eyes and continued, `With that said Sir, I believe that it is time that we start our little games so where would you gentlemen like your willing servants to start?'

`We will be starting with hors d'oeurves first, which will be served at three different stations. In order for you ladies to each be able to sample each of these snacks we will be playing a sort of round robin type of affair. Once you have been bound at a given station, you will remain bound for roughly a half and hour, while we gentlemen feed you the prepared delicacy. Then you will be released and moved to the next station to be bound, this will continue until each of you has been able to taste each of the three types of treats.'

`After our snacks and conversation we will adjourn to the dining room where you ladies will be bound to your chairs and fed by your loving and indulgent Masters.'

`The finale of the evening will be the bringing to life of Cassy's dream where you lovely ladies will be bound and suspended in the playroom, which is better known to some of you…' I noticed Arch looking directly at his son Greg who smiled back at him `…as our private dungeon.'

Arch turned to his wife and asked, `Does this all meet with your approval tinkerbell?'

Cassy had a huge smile on her face, but she kept her voice meek as she responded, `Oh, yes Sir. Thank you very much.'

He hugged his lovely wife and then took her hand and walked her over to a well padded lounge chair. Michael took Sam's hand and walked her over to a padded bar stool. Greg came to me, smiled and held out his hand. I put my hand in his strong palm and he led me over to Victorian style love seat.

I had noticed that Samantha also referred to Michael as `Sir' and this begged a question. `Do you wish to be called Sir or Master tonight, Master? I ask because the other ladies seem to be calling their gentlemen Sir.' I asked with my eyes appropriately lowered.

`When in Rome baby…' he replied with a chuckle. `Yes you may refer to me as Sir tonight. Although I do much prefer to be called Master, so this is only for this special occasion.'

`Yes Sir', I replied happily, feeling now much more like one of the girls.

`I'll be hogtying you with a crotch rope so be a good girl and lift up your hem so I can put the noose about your waist,' Greg ordered me.

I knew that he wanted to be first in every tie, because he wanted to show his dad and Michael just how good he was. He had talked about this at length so I responded as quickly as I could, pulling up the hem of my short gown to offer him the soft firm flesh of my belly. The folded rope was passed about my middle and the ends fed through the eye, which he tightened so that it resided directly below my belly button. The twin ropes slid between my legs and I felt him slip the ends under the rope at my back.

He left the ends hanging loosely behind me as he kissed my hair lightly, `You are a good girl to remember to wear your crotch-less panties. I know that you were shy about this, but I see that you followed my direction.' His hand made a waving motion towards the couch, `Now onto your stomach and I'll need you hands behind your back'.

I nearly leapt onto the couch putting my arms behind my back and bending my knees to raise my ankles to an easier position for him to bind me. His praise made me shiver. He handed it out so infrequently regarding my duties as his slave that I often wondered if I was meeting up to his expectations. He was often effusive about my sexual prowess, but receiving this type of praise put me on cloud nine. `Oh, thank you Mast… Sir', I said so happily even to my own ears I sounded like a re-run of Barbara Eden playing Genie! `When I showed the other women what I was wearing they all followed suit just to make me feel comfortable.'

All the time that I was talking Greg was working quickly to bind my legs at both the ankles and the knees. My wrists were secured swiftly, palm to palm and I gasped in pain as he bound my arms together tightly above my elbows. Thank God, he didn't make my elbows touch, he had done this to me once before and I found it really painful. This time he must have left them a good five or six inches apart, which was still uncomfortable but that was par for the course. It actually made me a bit horny to feel him tightening the ropes about my body, making me more and more helpless… more and more his. As he pulled my crotch rope tight and attached the ends to my ankles, I felt my pussy pulse with frustrated desire. My God it was going to be a long evening if we weren't going to be allowed to cum all night!

I thought that he was done with his tie when I felt him pulling my hair into a pony tail. This was unusual but Greg as my Master didn't often feel the need to tell me what he was doing with my helpless body. This worked for me as the excitement of not knowing exactly what he was going to do next kept my engine revving in high gear! `Ow… Ow', I protested softly as he twisted a rope into my blond locks and pulled on it a few times to make sure that it was taut. In seconds I found my head being pulled backwards till it was perpendicular to my back. My back and neck ached from the strain, but it did provide me with a wonderful view of the room.

Greg slapped my fanny and reminded me to point my toes. Each time that he put me in a hogtie, regardless of how high the heels that he made me wear, he always made me point my toes so that my foot was arched as if I were standing in them. It was so easy to let my feet rest in a bent position and much less stressful, yet I couldn't believe that I had failed in remembering such a little thing. My cheeks burned in embarrassment as I noticed the other men looking my way. The women also turned to me, but there looks were much more comforting.

`There, there my love', Greg crooned quietly into my ear as he ran his hands lightly over my thigh, down my stocking and then returned upwards to play with my garter. `The other ladies have been doing this for many years, in time you will never make such a gaff, just as they have learned to acceded to their Masters wishes.' His tone hardened as he continued, `Of course if you do make a habit of forgetting what I have taught you than I promise you that your punishments will make sure that you do not soon forget again!' I cringed until his voice returned to the loving softness caressing my ears, `It is hard for me to believe however, that that will ever be necessary as you have proven to be a most adequate student of or our little dance.' With that he gave my rear a stinging love tap and kissed me on the cheek. `Besides baby, look about you, we were first as I wished so I am very pleased with you.'

The ache in my shoulders, arms, neck and arches faded into insignificance those simple six words `I am very pleased with you'. Now it was as if my eyes had opened for the first time and I viewed our neighboring couples.

Cassy was bound lying in her lounge chair. Arch had used a host of leather straps to wrap her body up as if making her into an ancient Egyptian mummy. Her arms were bound tightly to her sides and her ample breasts were being squeezed outward and upward making them more predominant than normal. He was just finishing up with her calves and ankles and I noticed that she had remembered to keep her toes pointed in her high heeled sandals! She looked completely at ease in her bindings and I noticed her gazing longingly at her husband's hands as he completed her incarceration. I'll just bet that she was wishing the same thing as me… that our lovers would use their wonderful hands to bring us to orgasm versus just binding us. I also wondered if she regretted not making her desires more transparent. No, I did not want to be involved in group sex. I had no desire to make love to another man or woman than my Master, but now that we were all helpless I was not adverse to each of the men tending to their own women's needs.

Samantha's gasp forced me to swing my eyes in her direction. She was seated on a leather padded bar stool with dark mahogany legs. Her predicament was much like the one that I had faced not that many weeks ago, when I had been the judge and jury of the two men's prowess at bondage. Sam's arms were bound behind her in a single sleeve which appeared to be laced tightly up her back. A posture collar encircled her throat causing her to keep her head upright and not allowing her to shift her head from side to side. Michael had bound her legs together tightly above the knees, but her gasp had do to his finishing bindings. Rather than tie her ankles together, as he had with me, he was tying them to opposite legs, which only allowed the toes of her feet to rest on the brass bar ring of the chair. Her gasp was obviously unintended as she nearly fell as her sandals slipped on the gleaming brass. Once he had her reseated safely, Michael fixed this by winding a long rope about her thighs and the seat of the chair, firmly securing her once and for all.

My fellow submissive's looked utterly beautiful. It wasn't just the sexy way they were dressed or the bonds, no it was the looks on their faces. The look of total acceptance… no, it was more than that, it was total contentment and this stirred my emotions deep within my soul. A warmth of belonging grew gradually within me as their example made it plainly clear to me that there was nothing wrong with me. Giving up my freedom to my lover and Master so that I could truly be happy was as natural as the sun rising for me, yet I had always wondered if I was the only one that felt this way. Now I knew the truth. God, I could only hope that I looked as lovely and as content as they!

With all of us bound appropriately Mr. Stanton clapped his hands together and asked, `What would you lovely ladies like to drink? This is a party you know!'

Cassiopeia piped up first and answered, `Sir, if it pleases you I would like a white wine spritzer.'

Samantha nodded her head and said, `The same for me Sir'.

I was truthfully thinking of having straight white wine. Greg said his father had an extensive wine cellar and I had truly wanted to sample some of his better vintages. However, Cassy and Sam where much more experienced than I, so I decided to take their lead. `Thank you Sir, could you make it three please', I responded respectfully.

`Coming right up ladies', he said. A few minutes later I heard something being moved over to my right. The way my head was bound I couldn't turn it without pulling painfully at my hair. I swiveled my eyes as much as possible and saw Greg setting up a stand next to me that looked a lot like a medical IV holder. From the arm dangled a bottle that looked a bit like those that a hamster or gerbil would have to dispense water in their cage. He set up the contraption so that it was right by my lips and secured the bottle in place with another clamp secured to the stand. Tentatively I reached out with my tongue and touched the end of the straw like nozzle. Sure enough the few drops on the end tasted like wine. Sucking on the straw yielded a steady stream of the bubbly mixture.

Arch went around to each of the men and handed them an individual tray of hors d'oeurves. Greg picked up one and slid it over to my lips. I bit down on the spicy brie on the whole wheat cracker and munched away happily. I really hadn't realized how hungry I was until just then and now I felt ravenous.

`So how are you to settling in?' Cassy asked Greg and I in a totally normal voice that belied the fact that her freedom had been impinged upon.

`Absolutely wonderful', Greg replied with enthusiasm. `The apartment is a tad on the small side for the two of us so we did start looking at houses this weekend. It was a fun though tiring day, but we did see a couple of really great possibilities in Chappaqua.' While Greg went on I noticed a knowing glance pass between Cassy and Arch. Arch gave a slight nod and Cassy returned her attention to her stepson. My man was oblivious to this small part of the drama, but I wondered what it meant. Greg continued, `Sharon… baby… has been incredible about opening her home to me. She is an unbelievably good cook and she has even given me a quarter of her walk-in closet!'

`You gave him a quarter of your closet?' Samantha asked with a look of complete disbelief. `You are entirely too generous, honey. Master or no Master an eighth is all he deserves!' Greg chuckled as the other two men raised there glasses seemingly in respect to him getting such a large concession from me.

`Perhaps you're right, I may have given up too much of my valuable closet space', I said in a serious tone. Then I smiled and changed my tone to that of a beloved aunt describing her nephews beautiful chubby cheeks, `Oh but he looks so good in those cute little polo shirts of his that it makes it all worthwhile!' It actually hurt to laugh in my current position and I said so to Greg.

`Serves you right, you vixen', he told me with no heat in his voice, `cute polo shirts indeed!' He folded his arms to emphasize his disdain for my comment, causing me to laugh even harder. The whole group joined in our laughter and the small talk of a normal party continued under these very unusual circumstances. I wouldn't have minded being hogtied if it hadn't been for the rope wrapped into my hair. Laughing, swinging my head from side to side heck just about any movement caused me to feel like I was pulling the hair out of my head. But Cassy and Greg's father made it all worthwhile.

During a lull in the conversation Cassy turned to Greg and remarked, `I see that you are still as fast as you ever were, perhaps even faster. Of course I also see that you also have a very willing and fast learner as your partner which is a great help.'

Greg started to reply, but stopped when his father broke in. `Fast, you say… fast nothing the boy is greased lightening! Besides that just look at that rope work it's absolutely flawless!' He walked over to me and started pointing out how the coils were perfectly placed and just the proper amount of tightness. How he'd formed my body into a perfect bow shape which allowed a wonderful view of my pert cleavage. I blushed brightly as he went on extolling Greg's work, my body and even praised me for holding my form (toes pointed) so well.

`A chip of the old block, eh Arch?' asked Michael with a chuckle.

Arch clapped Greg on the shoulder and said, `No Mike, I think Greg is more than that. I think that he has surpassed his old man.' He rested his other hand on my head. `You've really come into your own son and you two make one heck of a great couple.'

Greg hugged his father and said, `Thanks Dad. That really means a lot to me.' I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the near tears in his voice. For myself I could feel the tears of happiness running unchecked down my cheeks.

`That was really sweet honey', Cassy said to her husband, `but don't you worry… you will always do it for me!'

`I must have missed this episode of Father Knows Best', Samantha added in a light tone. `But I'm darned if this couldn't pass for one!'

`Oh I know the episode that you're talking about', chimed in her husband Michael. `That was where Beaver and Wally tie up there girl friends, while June is tied up by her husband!'

`That never happened on the show', I told them disdainfully. `I've seen all of the re-runs on TV land.' Changing the subject, I asked, `Do you know what the worst thing ever said on Father Knows Best was?' They all shook their heads no. `It was when June said to her husband, Ward I think you were a little hard on the Beaver last night!' Everyone cracked up at my grade school humor.

The conversation ebbed and flowed and it wasn't until Greg started to release me from my bonds that I realized just how strained my back had been. It was as if the party atmosphere had distracted me from the pain. Oh Lord did it feel good to be able to rest my aching neck and my pussy was so very happy to be free of the twin ropes that had been cutting me in half. I stretched and sat up as the last of the ropes came off of my legs. All of the other women were also being released and I went to move to the next station where I would be bound, but Greg put a restraining hand on my shoulder.

`Take it easy baby', he said to me softly. `You've been tied for over half an hour and your legs might not be ready to support your weight just yet. Besides Cassy and Sam haven't been freed yet so there is no need to do anything but rest.' I murmured my thanks and rested my head against his thigh. He was right on the money with his advice as now that I was sitting up my legs were starting to feel that pins and needles feeling of circulation returning to them.

Shortly, everyone was ready and we moved over to the next station, which for me was the lounge that Cassy had been tied upon. Arch had left all of the straps very neatly placed on a small table besides the chair and Greg reached for these immediately.

`I'd like you to stand while I bind you', Greg told me softly as he started to fit my neck into the collar that formed the start of an inter-locking set of straps which I knew would be used to immobilize my upper body. I had seen Mr. Stanton tying Cassy up while she sat or lay in the chair and my first inclination was to question Greg as to why he wanted to tie me differently, but I was beginning to learn my place so I held my tongue. This web was similar to the model that we had played with recently back at the office and he was quick to buckle me into it. As he passed the strap between my legs he let his fingers play about my pussy for just a few seconds before he moved on. Despite the seemingly matter-of-fact nature of this whole event, being bound and helpless was turning me on to the point that I was feeling like there was a fire slowly building within my body. His teasing fingers almost knocked me off my sky high heels and he had to catch me as I swayed and my knees weakened.

A quick slap to the rump, brought me back under control, I regained my balance and resumed standing as I had been directed. Greg chuckled, `My, my, my, just a little bit on the excitable side are we?'

`I need you, Sir', I replied softly, desperately.

`I do so love that about you baby', he told me equally softly as he buckled leather cuffs about my wrists and thighs and attached them together with closable chain links. `But you must persevere as there will be no cumming unless I order it. Is that clear?'

`Yes Master', I replied resignedly and then quickly amended in a truly frightened voice, `Excuse my gaff, Sir. Yes, Sir.'

Greg chuckled as he completed lashing the fourth strap surrounding my legs. He picked me up in his strong warm arms and laid me gently on the beautiful floral pattern of the comfortable lounge. `I promise not to punish you for gaffs such as that baby. This is a party and while I would be disappointed in you for not doing your absolute best not to make such mistakes, I will not hold them against you tonight.' He smiled at me as he put my drinking bottle next to my lips, `However you would be punished just as normal if you do not follow my orders, quickly and precisely.'

`Yes, of course Sir. Thank you Sir.' I told him gratefully, then I couldn't help but add softly, `I love you Sir'.

This position was much more comfortable and gave my body a chance to rest from the aches and pains of my earlier predicament. I watched as Michael completed tying Sam into the hogtie station that I had just vacated. He used a rope harness about her shoulders to achieve the bow shape with his lover's body. Also her arms were not bound at the elbows and her ankles were attached to the shoulder harness in line with her wrists.

Poor Sam, I mused, was really missing out on the lovely pressure that those twin ropes impaling my lower lips had provided. Just a little stretching of my leg muscles every few seconds would allow me to play with my own puss. Hmmm, despite the pain it had been yummy. Heck, the leather strap now bound over my pussy was totally useless. It moved with my body like a piece of my outfit and even when I could get it to rub against my clit it didn't provide the pressure and resistance that I could use to stimulate myself. Now if Greg had been kind enough to put a vibrator or even a studded dildo into my heated lower mouth that strap could have proved very useful, but for now all I felt was frustration. I grinned to myself, thinking of how huge my orgasm would be when it finally came… hours and hours of frustrated excitement let loose… my, my, my, Master had best step back when he sets off that little bomb!

The small talk and snacks started up again once Sam's hogtie was complete and Cassy was perched on the barstool like a pretty parakeet. She didn't seem at all discomfited by the laced single sleeve that bound her arms together and I could see that Arch had tightened it to the point that her elbows must be matted together within the grasp of the firm leather.

`So Sharon what are you looking for in a house?' Cassy asked me with a smile.

`The truth be told I hadn't given a house much thought at all before Greg started to talk about them', I told her earnestly. `Now that I have seen a few of them though, I'm kind of eager to start putting our mark on one of them and really making it our own!' I had been intentionally vague, but Cassy would have none of it she wanted specifics. `What I would really like is to have a room like each of you has you know a sexual playroom built with Greg's every desire and my every need in mind.' My face flushed, but the others were not embarrassed more there looks told me to continue. `There was one house with a hidden room behind the master bedroom which seemed just perfect. The heavy paneling and the exposed dark wood beams overhead would provide just the right setting. And those electric black out shades on the two sky lights, incredible! Heck, with those skylights he could bake me bound in the hot sun with no one the wiser or make the room pitch dark in the middle of the day and bind me by candle light!' My face felt flushed and I worked hard to resettle my excited breathing. `Besides that I loved the great big state of the art kitchen and that long winding wooded driveway.'

Arch shook his head and chuckled much like his son was want to do. `Well, I must say that it's nice to see a young lady who has her priorities set correctly. Sex first and foremost, stomach second and beauty an important, yet lesser, third.'

Greg reached down an inter-twined his fingers with mine. `Yes, baby', he said as he kissed me gently on my forehead. `My dad is right. Your mind is so wonderfully prioritized and fertile that I feel honored to call you my own.'

Michael and Sam jumped in, talking about there first house and the first time that Michael had ever set about creating their own `playroom'. It seems that he wasn't all that good with electronics and his first attempt at suspending her using a couple of electric winches resulted in blowing the entire houses circuit breaker! His wood working was also questionable and his early hand made bondage chair, the one without a seat so as to provide easy access to her pussy, caused her many an uncomfortable splinter. The way she and her husband told the stories caused all of us to laugh and I knew if not for my bonds that I would be rolling on the floor!

The half-hour respite passed quickly and I hardly noticed the shrimp toast canopies that Greg popped into my mouth, from time to time. He had me out of those straps before the other men had even really begun to free their wives. While the rest of them were all occupied, Greg began to whisper how amazing I looked into my hair as he searched for my ear. When he found it he nibbled on my lobe, forcing a groan of contentment from deep within my throat. My hand slid down his flat stomach and lightly passed over his penis, which jumped appreciatively within his pants at my touch. His large hand cupped my left breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. Slipping his thumb and fore finger beneath my bodice he played with my hardening nipple. My eyes closed in sexual delight as my pussy flared up like a furnace that is having its billows pumped by the blacksmith. `I haven't given you permission to cum yet, baby, so restrain yourself', Greg told me softly as he pulled away.

My eyes flew open and I looked about me as I began to remember just where I was. My body was still betraying me as my loins felt like they were burning. I guessed this is what it must feel like for a smoker that hasn't had a puff in a while and someone else keeps waving a pack in their face. `Oh, fiddlesticks!' I said stamping my foot like a petulant little girl.

Greg chuckled and kissed me on the forehead, `Patience, baby, patience.' Taking my hand he led me to the stool that had just been vacated. As he picked up the sleeve, I put my arms behind my back and steepled my fingers in anticipation. The still warm leather cupped my hands and then slid up under and about my arms. He held it up with one hand as he maneuvered the straps over my shoulders and buckled them in place. The heavy leather sleeve hung on me loosely until Greg got behind me and started working on the laces.

Every time he tightened those thick corset-like laces a waft of leather smell puffed up about my head. There is something sensual about the smell of leather that can't be defined. Add to this that the lovely fragrance was being heaped on top of the fact that that same leather was making me more and more helpless and what you ended up with was an aphrodisiac. I was burning up and I'm sure my flushed face and quickened breathing was not going unnoticed to my lord and master.

With a chuckle he ordered me to cross my legs at the knees. I did so, only to watch him tie my legs together one on top of the other and then tie my ankle of my right leg to the calf of my left. Looping a couple of twin coils over my hips and under the chair, he bound me tightly to the seat before he finished off my legs. Now that he was sure that I wouldn't fall off of the tall stool, he formed a cuff of rope around my left ankle and then used it to pull my legs to the left side of the stool and as far to the rear as he could get them.

Forgetting the strain in my shoulder blades the position really wasn't all that uncomfortable, however it was perfectly constructed to remove any possibility that I would be allowed to titillate my own pussy in anyway, shape, or form!

I smiled up at Greg as he maneuvered my drinking bottle into range of my lips. `You are very devious, sir.'

`And you are very beautiful, baby', he told me softly as he wrapped the four inch posture collar about my neck. `But you still aren't allowed to cum until I tell you that you can.' With that he bent and kissed me full on the lips. It was a long lovely lingering kiss that did nothing to cool the fire burning between my legs.

I watched as Cassy was bound into a sensual pretzel shape. She wasn't subjected to the hair pulling treatment that I had received, but her knees were left open and her ankles crossed in a way that looked pretty uncomfortable. Like father like son, Arch added a crotch rope to her bonds as he finished his work. Lucky lady, I thought to myself as I looked longingly towards the taut ropes that split her creamy butt cheeks. Good Lord, she must be hitting the stair master hard to keep her butt that firm. Cassy must have seen me looking in her direction so she re-opened the conversation by asking what we had been up to lately.

Since Greg had been so fond of making me uncomfortable I thought that it was more than time for some pay back. So I told the story about visiting the Leather and Lace store on a Sunday morning and playing fashion model to Greg's photographer. Then going over to the Stanton Enterprise factory and pulling all sorts of fun toys out of their inventory, including my little stint as the gagged and bound bow spirit on the product dolly. I finished my story off with a little quip, `I don't think that I have ever had more lingerie or underwear in my entire life! Some of it is still in its boxes and it will probably take me months before I wear all of it.'

Greg did appear to be blushing a bit, but it was hard to tell under his tan. His voice however was as jovial as ever as he added to my story, `It's a good thing that I brought you that underwear too, if I remember correctly yours was missing from the night before.'

Everyone in the room laughed at that and now I knew for sure that not only women tell their friends everything! He was obviously referring to the trip to the restaurant when my overflowing orgasm had soiled my panties. I had told the ladies this story and now it seemed that I had proof that he had told the gentlemen also. Doing my best to keep my own face from burning red, I said to him sweetly, `You should know Master you were the one to ruin them.' His father laughed even harder and I wondered if I had gone too far.

Greg shook his head ruefully, `Alright you got me there doll, but all that lingerie and underwear that we bought isn't the only thing that we haven't had time to play with yet. Hmmm, I think that that heavy braided whip that we picked up at Dad's warehouse is just about ready for a bit of use to keep a certain little vixen in line. What do you think of that baby?'

I lowered my eyes to show my obeisance, but couldn't help but smirking as I answered, `I think that I'll love anything that you decide to give me Sir.'

`Ow, that's going to smart', piped in Samantha. She had the comfortable lounging position now, but you would never know it the way that her face was screwed up thinking about the whipping Greg had just promised me.

`No pain, no gain', jumped in Mr. Thatcher with a smile. Sam gave her husband a look but said nothing in response.

Cassy looked at Greg and I, seemingly uncertain of what to say. I had a feeling that they were all taking this much too seriously, so I rested my head back against Greg's chest to show where my loyalty lay. `Look folks' I said easily. `It his decision what he does with me. You all know that so don't worry about protecting me.' I looked up at Greg and smiled, `I trust him and I don't have any fear that he won't punish me farther than I deserve, but more importantly farther than I can stand.' Greg kissed me again, softly yet with a gusto all its own.

`Here, here', shouted his father. Everyone echoed his sentiments and the issue dropped. Normal conversation sprang back up, with the men raising their seemingly unending argument regarding the best medium with which to bind there lover. Personally, I was finding that I liked both for it seemed that it was my helplessness that fueled my fire and not the bindings. Pleasing Greg, my master, oh how I loved saying that to myself and being pleased by him once I've been securely bound was better than anything else that I could think of. Heck, it was even better than dark chocolate and I just love really good dark chocolate. It had taken me a while to accept this, but now… hmmm, just thinking of it made me tingle all over. I shimmied a bit on my seat as that shiver ran right down my tightly bound back.

Greg nuzzled the underside of my jaw, just above the stiff collar and whispered, `Perfect, baby, simply perfect. But don't think that that gets you out of that whipping I promised you.'

Closing my eyes and letting the fire run through me I responded a tad huskily, `Yes, Sir, but don't think that I won't enjoy that whipping that you promised me.' Greg chuckled and nibbled my ear lobe. I could hear some of the women and men talking about young love and knew that they were speaking about us, but it didn't matter. All that existed in my world was me being at his tender mercies.

That station passed all too quickly and the portions of the southwestern egg roll I had been fed seemed just a vague memory. His caresses and kisses had once again brought my cunny to a fever pitch that was just begging for release. When I was freed of the stool and sleeve, I went to stand and found that I was unsteady on my feet. Samantha and then Cassy were there by my side in seconds, each taking one of my arms at the elbow.

`We've got her Greg', Cassy said easily. `I think it is time that us girls had a bathroom break.'

`Good thinking', said Arch happily. `Long gowns and peignoir sets are the order of the day for dinner. Stockings are a must, as are slippers which can be either flats or mules.' He smiled at all of us as the other men nodded in agreement. `Thirty minutes and not a minute more at which time we will be expecting you dressed and ready in the dining room.'

We all chorused yes sir as the ladies hustled me upstairs to the bathroom. Once we were out of the hearing of our men, Samantha said, `Now do you see why we asked for our wine to be mixed with soda instead of taking it straight?'

`Huh', I answered just a bit thickly.

Cassy continued the thought, `Honey, alcohol and bondage do not mix. Your blood isn't circulating so it all seems to go straight to your head. Add to that to the six inch heels we are wearing and that could mean some real trouble.'

`Wow, I never thought about that', I answered in astonishment. `Heck, Greg tied me up after we had been out and had drinks for the evening, but that was to the bed and afterwards we just went to sleep. This is all so new to me.'

`It's a whole new world baby', Cassy said as she gave me a squeeze, `and from what I can see I'm sure you are going to love it!' Sam gave me a squeeze also and then we took our turns relieving ourselves of the wine.

As I emerged back into the bedroom Cassy was already holding up a black lace peignoir set, `OK what do you think ladies?'

Samantha crossed her arms and answered, `To formal and not enough sex appeal. Michael loves Victorian or Grecian long gowns but they have to really show off my body.' I just frowned and didn't say anything. It was her party, so I was willing to take her lead.

Cassy had other thoughts though as she rounded on me, `Now spit it out. Whatever your thinking lets here it we've only got twenty minutes left!'

I was a bit shocked at first but recovered quickly. `I was just thinking that we should all use peignoir sets which will give our gentlemen the small coat to remove before we sit down to dinner. The gowns we pick should be which ever one best show off our breasts as that is all that is going to be seen about the table.' I paused to see that they were with me and Sam gave me a come-on more type of motion. `Personally I was thinking of an Aztec gold Grecian gown which has a halter top that is open all the way to my waist and leaves my back uncovered. It has some black lace trim about the edges and the jacket is of a light gauzy black mesh, so it will go really well with my black satin slides with the marabou feathers.'

Cassy was already over in my things and picking up the items. Then she looked at me thoughtfully. `Hmmm… perfect. I knew that I should get you talking, you're a natural.' Her face took on an all business look as she began to put together the out fit that I had described. `The deep gold will work really well with your tan and the five inch heels on these mules with there pretty tuft of feathers will definitely catch there interest. Not to mention that your man did mention them earlier in his little jest, so you are obviously playing into his hand.' She turned to me and asked, `Stockings?'

`Black, seamed with a garter belt', I replied and then blushed in embarrassment. `Greg likes garter belts.' I explained.

`What man doesn't?' replied Sam. `Alright, I have that gown but it is in the exact same color so we won't all be able to wear matching outfits this time. Let's see she's in a deep rich color, I've got a royal blue that would fit the bill. The top is cut differently, but it shows off an amazing amount of cleavage. It has black trim also, but I'll wear the same mules in blue for contrast.' She turned to Cassy, `How about you birthday girl'.

`Deep scarlet, with a Victorian top that looks like a tube top', she answered with a smile. `Arch loves the way it makes my breasts look bigger!' From her closet she pulled out a pair of red satin mules also with a puff of feathers, `These will do for me'.

We all shook our heads in agreement and then we got down to the real work of changing. Twenty minutes isn't all that long when you have to remove your high heels, garters, stocking and night gown then put on a whole new set! Not to mention fixing our makeup. Good Lord that could take twenty minutes all on its own! Fortunately Cassy had a huge mirror in her bathroom and we all were ready just barely in time. As we walked down the stairs I was happy that my mules sported a slight platform making them as easy to walk in as four inch heels, especially as I still felt the effect of the wine. Cassy seamed to be reading my mind, `Water at dinner tonight. We are going to be in nine inch heels later this evening ladies so lets be ready for it!'

We walked into the room and once again did our runway model type posing routine. Each of our gowns had slits so Cassy bent her knee sexily opening her gown at the front, while Sam and I had our legs spread, which revealed my right leg to the hip and her left. Our gentlemen's eyes devouring our stocking clad legs and softly sensuous outfits left no doubt that our choices had been right on the money.

Arch started a slow loud clapping of his hands, which the other men picked up until the applause, whistles and cat calls began to get out of hand. `Alright gentlemen', he said loudly, `down boys!' Returning his admiring gaze to us, `Cassy you are more beautiful than the day that I met you and ladies I am shocked to my core at just how lovely you both are. So once again thank you for making this party so perfect.'

Sam and I both nodded our heads, and than Greg's dad continued, `With that said why don't you ladies sit down and we will prepare you for dinner.'

With a girlish giggle Cassy set off towards her husband, whispering to us, `This is the part that I love!' I knew exactly what she meant as I looked into Greg's eyes as I walked towards him. This might not have been the correct thing for a slave to do, but I didn't want him to forget that I was also his lover and I sent that message with my eyes, my smile and an exaggerated sway of my hips.

He smiled back at me and reached out to take my hand which he bowed over formally and kissed. `Good evening my lady', he said huskily before he cleared his throat. It was nice to see that I was having as much of an effect on him as he was having on me. Like the gentlemen he was he held out his hands to take my wrap. `If you will be so kind as to sit', he said as he grandly waived me to my seat, `I will be happy to put you in your rightful place.'

I made a shortened curtsy as I replied, `Thank you Sir', before I lowered myself in to the elaborate Edwardian style chair. The high back and the seat were well padded in deep golden velvet and very comfortable. Even the chairs arms were padded in the same material, which I was very grateful for because I knew that my arms would be resting there for quite some time.

The chair had been slanted at an angle to the table which gave Greg room to work. I didn't bother to watch him and busied myself with seeing what was going on with Cassy and Samantha. Michael gave Sam a loving kiss before he began to work with the ropes neatly coiled in his right hand and Arch was talking quietly to Cassy as he looked at her adoringly.

He had just started to run his fingers through her hair, when a touch from below made my eyes pop wide open. Greg had just slid something into my sex and was now in the process of using his fingers to push whatever it was in even further. I forced my face back into a relaxed mode and took a casual glance down between my legs. There between my spread thighs rested an off-white plastic cylinder with a single white wire running from it until it disappeared into the folds of my vagina. I knew that cylinder well and was well aware that it housed the batteries that would make the silver oblong egg, now buried deep within me, vibrate like a school of Mexican jumping beans gone wild.

When he had spread my legs earlier, I thought nothing of it. He probably wanted to tie my legs to the opposite chair legs, but now I knew better. `Devious Master', I whispered to him with a slight grin.

I closed my eyes and leaned back into the chair as he turned the little toy on. It felt wonderful, but I knew from experience that it wouldn't be enough to let me climax. Despite that I drank in the delightful thrumming that teased my cunny back to its earlier fever pitch. His strong hands pushed my unresisting legs back together and wrapped my gown neatly about me hiding the device from any prying eyes. It was nearly silent and it as if my ears felt it rather than actually heard it. Certainly no one a yard away could hear my little tormentor, so Greg had really gotten me good this time. At the moment I just didn't care as I ate up the gorgeous feelings coming from my love canal.

Greg had me trussed up in mere minutes. My legs were wrapped in no less than four coils of rope. The last running over my thighs bound me tightly to the chair seat. The golden gown gathered prettily between each set of ropes and he seemed pleased by the look he had created. My waist had been invaded by four strands of rope that dug tightly into my stomach and pushed my back firmly into the chair. He took special care of my chest, quickly building a net that encircled both of my breasts. By tightening it strategically at the base of each mound, he was able to achieve that balloon like look that I had recently been introduced to without even baring my breasts.

Between the egg and the loving attention he was paying to my mammary glands my nipples decided it was time to stand up and be noticed. I watched through half-opened eyes as they made little tents of their own beneath the taut silk which drew Greg's fingers like a bee to honey. Oh, God, yes. I sucked in a breath, causing my chest to heave to his touch. His digits found their way under the material and clenched down on my unsuspecting nipple. `Ooooohhhhhhh yeeeessss', I groaned loudly in contentment.

`Harmuph', Arch coughed pretending to clear his throat. Again my eyes flew open and I saw everyone in the room staring at us. I felt the incredible burning in my cheeks and looked quickly to Greg for support, but he was as red as I. `Getting a little carried away are we?'

Greg hung his head sheepishly, but gave a smile before he responded. `Yes, dad, I guess I did get a little out of hand.'

Cassy looked at him and smiled coquettishly, `Hmmm, and I would have said that you had it in hand pretty darn well mister!' The others in the room all laughed, but it wasn't as if they were laughing at us. No it was more of a warm, homey, friendly laughter.

`Well honey', Arch said turning to Cassy who was by now also fully bound to her chair, `I guess we got our prayers answered. Wouldn't you say so?'

`The boy definitely appears to be happy', she answered. Then her gazed turned to me and her voice slid into a knowing lilt, `And we couldn't have found a better, more loving and RESPONSIVE partner if we had tried!'

My cheeks began to burn even hotter. `I'm sorry', I said to the room at large. `I just love him so much sometimes that it hurts! And being bound and helpless… I just can't help responding to him.'

`Amen, girl', Samantha nodded in agreement.

`You are singing to the choir, hun', said Cassy. `But if my nose is any judge I think that dinner is just about ready so maybe you two can wait just a bit to get you truly just deserts!' This time even Greg and I joined in the laughter.

`Alright gentlemen', Arch said loudly, `you heard the lovely lady. It's our turn to be the servants here so let's get to work.' With that he herded them all off through the pantry and into the kitchen.

`What did you do, make all the food earlier and just let Arch heat it up?' Samantha asked once the men were gone.

`No. Maria and Angela are in there putting everything together.' She replied. `But, don't worry they have orders not to leave the kitchen and after dinner we will send them home. Besides they been with us for a long time and they now when to look the other way.'

The men returned with heaping platters and bowls of food. Greg came by with a pitcher of water and filled my glass to which he added a straw. He continued around the table as his dad stopped by next and placed bowl filled with a Greek salad onto my plate. Mr. Thatcher came last, putting a steaming roll onto my bread plate.

Greg sat down next to me and held the glass up so that I could take a sip of my water from the straw. Then he began to eat his salad and during alternate bites he feed me. Conversation flowed just like at any other dinner party. Focusing somewhat on work, but also talked about the poor economic conditions and how it was affecting the industry. It was amazing to me to find out that our industry was near depression proof. Unless things went totally south, the people that loved our products would continue to buy them as pleasure comes right after safety. Greg even pointed out that the bondage movie industry made more money then normal during an economic downturn as people looked for diversions from the bad news.

My salad was soon replaced by a salmon dish that had been wrapped, Wellington style, in light flaky dough. Below the crust was a lovely lemon and dill flavor that was nearly a sensual delight. The asparagus was perfectly cooked and glazed with a light wine sauce and the rice was fluffy and garnished with fresh parsley and sliced pecans.

Thank God the food was so good as it kept my mind off of my sex. That egg was still vibrating like a little demon and it was keeping me just on the edge of cumming. I had tried to shimmy in my seat to stimulate myself further, but my Master had done his work all to well and I found I could barely shift my hips at all. My nipples were back at attention and I knew that I had to divert my attention… `This food is wonderful', I said to Cassy after I had finished a bit that Greg had gently placed on my tongue. My voice was a bit strained, but I hopped that they wouldn't pick up on it.

`I'm glad that you like it. It's one of my favorite dishes and Arch has always raved about it so I thought it was would be a good choice for this evening.' Cassy told me in between her own feeding. `Would you like the recipe?'

`Yes, thank you', I told her excitedly. I hoped that she would think that my excitement was due to getting the new recipe, but the truth was that the little silver cylinder was doing its job all to well and I really needed to cum! I looked over to Greg, `Sir, the ropes at my thighs are just a bit tight and I thought perhaps you could look at them.' He looked over to me and I pleaded to him with my eyes.

`Can't have that happening baby', he said softly. `Let me just get down there and check things out.'

My chair had been pushed into the table so Greg had to get down on his knees. He lifted the table cloth and went under the table. I felt him reach between my legs, but they were tied so tightly together that they defied his efforts. He shimmed his fingers back and forth until he slipped between my soft flesh and the even softer silks that I wore. He finally found what he was looking for and the vibrations of the egg died away. I sighed gently.

`Thank you Sir', I told him as he reappeared. `That feels MUCH better.' Greg explained to the others how two of the coils had begun to pinch me and needed just a little rearranging.

Cassy and Sam, meanwhile had been talking about bondage and Cassy all of a sudden turned to her husband and asked anxiously, `Can I please tell the story of when you first asked me Sir, please!' Arch looked at her with an indulgent and loving look and than nodded his head yes.

`Arch asked me to be his love slave just after…' Cassy started and then stopped. `No, that's like starting from the middle, let me start from the beginning. I had come up from our plant in Virginia to study a new software system that was being installed throughout the company. That was before the accident and meeting him for the first time was like meeting a huge friendly bear. As soon as we were introduced I felt as if I had known him all of my life. That engaging personality of his made me feel like I was a real part of the team and not just some cog in the wheel. It was really a great time.

Over the course of a few weeks the people that I was training under realized that I was just the right person to train others so they asked if I would like to transfer. It was a great opportunity for my career and the money was excellent so I agreed. Now, our part of the Information Systems (IS) department was just outside of the corporate offices so I would see Arch often. Even when I didn't see him, I would often hear him laughing down the hall or talking to someone nearby. He was a bright shinning presence that made the whole company come alive.'

`Then the accident happened and the world seemed to turn upside down.' Cassy turned to Greg. `I know it was nightmare for you, but for those of us at the office it was also incredibly hard. We all loved your father and to see him so distraught and in pain was more than many of us could bear. Then when he began drinking… not just at night, but also at the office…'

Greg's face looked close to tears and he croaked, `Yes, I remember…'

`It was horrible watching such a wonderful person destroying himself that way, but there wasn't anything any of us could do', she said softly. `People went around there business like robots and the laughter that had been so prevalent in the company's halls became a thing of the past.

`But you saved me', Arch said softly.

She nodded her head and continued. `I was going to my car as I was leaving work and I saw you fumbling with your keys. You were unsteady on your feet and I was sure that you were to drunk to be driving anywhere.'

`So you marched right up to me and took the keys from my hands before I even knew that you were there.' Arch added. `It took me a while to focus on you and when I realized what had happened I yelled at you to give me back my keys.'

`Oh my, did you ever', Cassy agreed. There I was at 5ft tall and less than a hundred pounds and there you were towering over me like a huge grizzly. `I told you that you weren't driving anywhere, not in your condition and when you got nasty with me I let you have it. I asked you if you wanted to be responsible for killing someone else's wife or mother, because in your state that was exactly where you were heading.' Her tone softened and a tear came to her eye before she continued, `That's when the last thing that I ever expected happened… you began to cry. You the tower of strength for everyone in the company, the one that shouldered all of us like Atlas holding up the world, was crying. Then as if it was the most natural thing in the world you were in my arms with your head propped on my shoulder.'

`I took you home and stayed at the house with you for three days while you sobered up and started to rejoin humanity. During those days I let you use my body anyway you liked. It was the only way that I knew to keep your mind off of the loss of your wife and I could see that it was working. By Sunday you were almost your normal self and you began to apologize to me profusely for taking advantage of me so. That's when we began to talk about me instead of you and it was then I told you that I was part Chinese. My old grandmother thought that the only proper woman was one who was owned by her man. It was her job to make him happy and especially to keep him whole. When the pressures of his life became too much for him to bear it was the woman's job to ease his pain and I told you that that was what I was trying to do for you.'

`Be mine', I asked you said Arch. `I remember saying those words and yet not even knowing where they came from. Yet once I heard them ring in my ears I knew that was what I wanted.'

`Oh, I argued with you', Cassy said with a smile now brushing her lips. `It was too soon after you wife's passing…'

`Not to mention I was old enough to be your father!' Arch jumped back in.

`Age was never the issue and you know it… you old goat!' Cassy rejoined with a gleeful smile. `No, I had done my job and now it was time for me to leave, at least that's the way that I saw it. But then you said it… the one thing that I couldn't turn my back on…'

`I told you I needed you', Arch said simply.

`Oh, you didn't just tell me that you needed me', Cassy replied. `No, no, no… you told me that you needed me to be whole again. You needed me to pick up the pieces where you wife had left off. You needed me to be you love slave, because only I could please you the way that she had, and because only I understood.' She turned to face me now. `At the time Sharon, I was just as green as you when it comes to all this bondage and domination stuff and I only had the vaguest idea of the life that I was getting myself into.' She looked back to her husband and smiled, `No, darling, I didn't have any idea what it meant to be your love slave, but I did know that it brought me pleasure to bring you happiness. Now almost 12 years later, I know so very much more and wouldn't change any of it.' I felt tears stinging my eyes as I thought that I had never heard a more romantic story in my whole life.

`Not even the first time that I whipped you?' Arch asked in a choked voice.

I knew from what Greg had told me that he had been particularly vicious that first time as he took his frustration of wife's loss out on her. She looked up at him with that near angelic expression of pure love as she replied, `No, my love, not even after my first whipping. In fact all that I wish to change is that I wish that I had said this earlier this evening. Thank you Sir for making me yours and for keeping me that way these last dozen years.'

`Forever and ever, tinkerbell', Arch got out before he broke down and put his head next to her. He hugged the whole chair bringing her into his large body. I could hear him whispering to her, but didn't understand the words. The tone of his loving words left no doubt though of what he was saying to his wife, lover and slave. A more beautiful birthday present I could not imagine.

Desert followed shortly afterwards. It was a more subdued affair as everyone seemed to be contemplating their love for their mate and what their respective chosen roles meant to each other. I know that I was thinking about it and I could read from Greg's furtive glances that he was also. Arch appeared fully recovered when he announced the end of the meal. `Ladies once we have released you from your bondage, please adjourn upstairs as quickly as possible and prepare for the evening finale. You are to wear the corset of your choice, stockings, gloves and ballet heels. You are to meet us downstairs in the basement where you will be suspended by your wrists. At this point you will be sensually tormented. Now Michael was the one that requested the corsets and I was the one that suggested the ballet heels, so the selection of your torment has been left to Greg.' He turned to Greg, `What say you son? How shall we torment our lovely ladies?'

Greg smile hugely, `I'm going to take a page from your book Dad. Cassy used to tell me that you often would tell her that you were going to punish her, but not what you were going to do when you would do so. The agony of waiting until the proposed time of punishment without knowing was often worse than the actual torment. So I think that I will withhold my decision from these lovely ladies until they are helplessly bound before us.'

I heard Cassy mutter something about the apple not falling far from the tree as Greg began removing my bounds. The egg left my cunny with a slurpy sound as if my vagina was trying to suck it back in. I know that I had asked for it to be stopped, but I still found that I missed it as it as I was still desperately in need of stimulation.

Cassy and Samantha were soon freed and we went back to Cassy's room to change. There wasn't any need for a lot of conversation as we all knew what we were dressing in for the next event. I slid completely out of my long nightgown and went into the bathroom to give myself a sponge bath. I missed Greg as he would shower with me or sponge me down himself in between sessions and I was still dying for his touch. I rubbed soothing aloe lotion into the angry red rope marks that marked my body from chest to ankles. Greg had taught me to do this and now I could see where he learned it as Cassy joined me and began going through the same ritual.

Going back into the room I started dressing for the evening. I put on my black lace crotch-less panties and black fishnet stockings, before even thinking about the corset. I slid into my red satin slippers as Cassy had told me that we would be putting our heels on in the basement. When I thought about it, it only made sense. There was no way that we would be able to walk down two flights of stairs in nine inch heels! Shimming into my crimson red and midnight black satin corset, I did as Greg had taught me and reached behind me to tighten the cords just enough to keep it from sliding back down my torso.

`Hey, Cassy', I called. `Are they going to tighten our corset bindings downstairs?'

`Hmm, Arch didn't spell that part out', she replied thoughtfully. `We seem to be doing pretty well on time so why don't we tighten each others laces. The worse that can happen is that they want to re-do them or tighten them further, but on the other hand it might gain us some brownie points!'

`Sounds good to me', both Sam and I echoed in near unison.

In short order I found myself with my legs spread and hands wrapped around one of the tall corner posts of the four poster bed. I bit my lip so as not to scream as the two ladies yanked in opposite direction at the loose laces in the middle of my back. The laces pulled so quickly through the eyelets and over my skin that it felt like I was getting a rope burn. In seconds the satin had begun to mold to my body and no longer just hung from my frame. Now the hard work started of cranking the laces to get those last few inches out of my waist line. Cassy worked on the laces from the bottom and Samantha from the top. I was amazed that such a small woman had such strength, but the results were clear as I could feel my hips and the tops of my buttocks being gently squeezed by the strong material as my waistline shrank.

`Did you ever wear a corset in the past?' Samantha asked.

`Unless you count the costume that I wore at Vassar in our version of `Gone with the Wind', no not until recently', I answered as evenly as my restricted breathing would allow. `Why do you ask?'

`I was just kind of surprised that your body was so supple. The ease which we are tightening the laces back here first made me think that the corset hadn't been made tight enough for you. But looking at that wasp like waist, I've had to revise that opinion.' She told me.

`What Sam means', Cassy jumped in, `is that your body is reacting to the corset as if you were an old pro at tight lacing.'

`Oh', I replied. I remembered Lucinda telling me that the garment would begin to mold itself to my body, but I hadn't realized that my body had to also mold itself to the garment.

Cassy pulled a measuring tape from her vanity table and circled my waist with it. `Nineteen inches, outstanding! With what, a four-inch pull on that corset?' I nodded my head yes, as she continued to inspect my garment, the front grommets, the metal stays, the set of my breasts in their half-cups and made sure that the bow at my back was secure. I felt like some WAC recruit being inspected by the barracks sergeant. `Excellent. I'm lucky if I can get to sixteen inches with a six-inch pull, even with my small frame.'

I was shocked when she slapped me on the butt, hard, and gave me a move over shake of her hand. `My turn ladies and make sure that you show no mercy, Arch likes my corsets really tight on me.'

Cassy's corset was a deep red burgundy color which rode high on her hips and didn't cover her breasts at all. `My God', I said in awe as she removed her lacey bra, `your breasts are so huge!'

She cupped her lovely mounds in her hands and smiled, `Thank you doctor Klingman, yes they are!' She smiled even larger at my confused look. `They were a present from Arch for my 27th birthday. Mind you I think they were more a present for him then me! But, I must say that going from a barely filled 33b to a nicely rounded 35c really made me look more like a woman than a young boy in a skirt!'

`I'm a 35c also, but your breasts look so much larger', I responded still dazed at their magnitude.

`I've a much smaller frame than you hun', she said with her full southern drawl. Then she giggled her breasts up and down. `It just makes them look bigger.'

I looked over at Samantha's chest and she shook her head. `Nope', she said with a smile. `These were standard equipment. 38c's which need a bit more support now that I'm in my mid-thirties and one day I suppose I'll have to give them a lift. Heck having three kids suckle on them and has it's effect no matter how hard I hit the machines at the gym.' I nodded my agreement and filed all this for later thought. Kids… breast enhancements… where would this life I was choosing ultimately lead me. `Enough of this though, let's get Cassy cranked and then finish me off so that we can get downstairs and make our men drool at the site of us!'

Despite that small frame of hers closing that last inch seemed to be impossible. But Cassy berated the both of us and said that Arch had her laced into this one just last week. Waving Sam to the side I put my knee into the small of her back and wrapped the laces about each fist. Arching my body backwards and tightening my triceps at the same time, I pulled as hard as I could. The back edges of the garment slowly moved until they finally rested against each other. With a quick twist of the cords I locked them in place so that I could now take my time to wrap of the rest of the loose laces and tie them into a neat set of loops.

Samantha was a lot easier. Her waist had spread to nearly 26 inches and her supple leather corsets four-inch pull had no problem reigning in her slightly expanded waist. She seemed really concerned that we would think less of her or something because her waist wasn't the three inches thinner than it was in her early twenties. Cassy calmed her concerns with kind words of how wonderful she looked especially after having three kids! `Besides I've seen the way Michael looks at you and that lust in his eyes makes it very clear that he is more than happy with what he sees!'

We each picked up our footwear from the top of the vanity table, where Cassy had thoughtfully instructed that we put them before we had started. This meant that we didn't have to do the `bunny squat' to pick them up off of the floor, for which I was immensely grateful because my corset felt exceedingly tight. In fact I think that the only time that I had ever worn it this tight was when Lucinda had punished me with it. Certainly Greg hadn't made it this tight the last time that he had had me wear it, but all of their glowing comments about my small waist and such, forced me to overlook the discomfort.

Cassy led us down into the bowels of the house. The basement was well lit with thick carpeting and a wet bar in one corner, but that is not where she led us. We headed to an open door in the opposite side of the room. Once through the doors the lighting dimmed and the dark mahogany walls seemed to soak up the light that remained. We walked over to our men who were chatting as they stood about three of the wooden frames that I had become intimately associated with at Mr. Thatcher's "A" Frame. The room was very large taking up nearly a third of basement, which allowed for the frames to be set up in a triangle formation. Each frame had it own little stage which was about two feet wide and four long on which had been placed a bar stool. Track lights that ran in parallel to the walls had been turned inward to become spot lights, causing a golden shine on each of the stools green leather seats.

For the last time of the evening we did our little, center, left and right movement spreading our legs and putting our hands on our hips as we smiled and faced our men. Cassy had donned a dark burgundy bra that was sculpted to fit perfect with her corset, so the three of us stood there with our chests jutting outwards while our men applauded our little presentation.

`Alright ladies now it is time for the Cassy's dream to become a reality. I hope that you are all looking forward to hanging around for a while?' Arch asked us we laughed ruefully but the Greg and Michael broke up like it was the funniest joke that they had ever heard. `What do you say tinkerbell?' Arch asked his wife as the laughter died away.

`I am looking forward to it with bells on Sir', she said brightly.

`Hmm, I don't see any bells', Arch quipped, `but I'm sure that can be arranged.' His two cohorts chuckled and I was sure that we had just been dealt another torment besides hanging around in nine inch heels to deal with. Ah, well, in for a penny in for a pound!

`If each of you would sit on the stool next to your Master we will be happy to put you into your heels and set you up for this little session.' He said this in such a nonchalant way that you would think that he was talking about the weather instead of tying three women up in his basement! Then I thought to myself, why not? I felt totally comfortable being bound among these people and as everyone kept pointing out I was new to this, for him it must be old hat. But a small twitch in his hand, made me wonder if he was as calm as he seemed.

There wasn't anymore time for these considerations as we each filed over to our respective stage. I sat down comfortably on the stool and handed my bright red heels to Greg. Without a word he silently knelt before me and lifted my left foot from the brass ring. He rested my calf gently on his raised knee and removed my satin slipper. The incredibly arched pumped slid on easily as I had learned to just let my toes slide into the padded toe box. Greg secured the two buckles, one at my ankle and one across the arch of my foot which was the linchpin to two sets of crisscrossing straps that held my foot firmly into the shoe. When he lowered my shod foot to the floor I found that I could comfortably rest it on the stage, where as in my slipper clad feet I felt like I was falling off the stool unless I rested my feet on the bar ring. The second ballet pump went on as quickly as the first and now while my toes rested on the stage my heels were suspended on narrow red spikes nine inches in the air!

Greg began to root around in his bondage bag and came up with a pair of cuffs that I had never seen before. He put the first of the cuffs about my wrist which was already encased in the elasticized red satin of my elbow length gloves. It was fleece lined and felt warm and inviting as it closed upon my wrist. The cuff itself was longer than any other cuff that I had previously worn and required two buckles to tighten it properly in place. The cuff continued upwards over the back half of my hand and ended at a rounded point in which a reinforced brass eyelet was mounted. Greg smiled at my look of pure concentration and said lightly, `Suspension cuffs baby. With these nine inch heels a lot more of your weight is going to need to be put on your arms and these cuffs are just what the doctor ordered. Don't worry I've used them a hundred times in flicks and I'm told that there is nothing better.' Easy enough for him to say, he wasn't the one that would be wearing them! On the other hand they really were comfortable and I trusted him to know what was best. I gave him my brightest smile to show him this, but left my other thoughts unspoken.

Next he placed cuffs on each ankle above their shinny patent leather ankle strap. He secured the two d-rings together with a two ended brass clasp that he could open and close with his thumb. It set my feet about six inches apart which felt just right. Thigh cuff were added mid-way between my crotch and my knees and were joined by a single chain link. Finally he pulled on two of the cables from above which were now flowing from the top bar about four feet apart versus the corners that had been used to suspended me the last time I had been bound in this contraption. The clasps were attached to each of the wrist cuffs which left my hands hanging just about neck level. Using the hand held remote Greg stood by me while he began to let the electric winches do there thing.

Slowly my hands were raised over my head until they were pulled taut above me. As my rear began to be lifted off the seat and for the first time weight was placed unto my feet, my ankles began to wobble. `Gregggg…' I called in a gradually loudening tone of voice.

His arm was about my waist instantly giving me the extra support that I needed. `I've got you baby', he said softly in my ear, `no worries.'

He loved that Crocodile Dundee phrase but I wasn't so sure that it applied this time. Even with his support my ankles continued to wobble above the huge spikes. Ballet training was years in the past and what this felt like was the first time that I had ever been put on ice skates. The winches kept pulling me into the air until finally my heels and then my toes left the ground. Greg reversed the cycle and let me down until, my toes and heels were once again firmly on the ground. However, with the help of those really effective suspension cuffs the amount of weight that I was actually placing on my toes was probably a fraction of my total weight. Surprisingly my toes felt very comfortable even though they were being forced to provide purchase for a significant part of my body weight. My ankles, though, were my only real concern.

Now that I had been lashed into place I could take my time to look over at my companions. Cassy was just starting to be fitted for her own set of cuffs and Samantha's Michael wasn't even finished lacing up her boots! As I watched him tightly lace Sam into her boot I felt a bit jealous. I just bet that those boots would give her ankles a lot more support than these ballet shoes of mine. No wonder she was supposed to be able to walk in the incredibly high heels!

I let those thoughts slide away as I became more and more comfortable in my bondage. The feeling of being so incredibly bound and helpless to my Master's every whim gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside that is so hard to describe. Drowsily, I allowed myself to feel and play with my restraints. Simple shifts of my weight, a sway of my hips from side to side, became like a sensuous dance as my whole body had to respond to the meager change. The clicks of the D-rings against the metal connectors added there own beat to the rhythm of my movements. A little pull on one arm, a shift of my hips to the opposite side, a bend in one knee with the other leg stiffening to support more of my weight… slowly, wondrously I lost myself in the freedom of my bondage.

I saw the flash of a camera through my closed lids, which brought me back to the real world. Greg was grinning at me as he snapped another picture. `I couldn't help myself baby', he said as he zoomed in on my smiling face.

`I didn't even know that you had brought it with you', I said unconcernedly as I flexed and posed to give him the best shots possible.

`With your beauty I figure that the camera falls into the "don't leave home without it category". Besides this is the first time that I've ever had you standing in those incredible heels!' Greg continued to move around me, as his focus dropped to my legs and feet. I loved to see him happy and playing bondage photographer, with me thank you very much, as his subject did that in spades.

While we played, the other two gentlemen had finished suspending my two compatriots into there own frames. Cassy's incredible waspish waist was highlighted by two lights which had been centered on it. I suppose that she knew her man as he seemed to be very intent on viewing, touching and caressing the center of the hour glass that he had caused to be created of his lovely wife. My God, what if Greg wants to put me into a six-inch pull one day? I smiled as I watched Arch give Cassy a soft lingering kiss. Nine inch heels, six inch-pull corsets, crotch-less panties… if it makes Greg happy I knew that I would be just as content as Cassy. My life was opening up like a storybook before me and everywhere there was sunshine and beautiful flowers.

Arch cleared his throat bringing the entire rooms attention to him. He now stood in the center of our three frames, where he had place a small table on which rested two dark brown boxes. `Well ladies now that you are comfortably ensconced hanging from your respective frames I suppose that it is time to add a little spice to the evening.' Arch picked up the first box. `As you know the whole evening was set up to re-create my beautiful wife's dream, but to make that happen we have all played a part. Michael suggested the corsets, I added the ballet heels and even Cassy had a say by asking for this first bit of spice.' With that he opened the box and turned around so that each of us could see the three sets of brass bells connected by small chains to clamps that were obviously intended for our nipples. Each of the men removed a pair and went back to their mate. Greg smiled as he moved the lace out of the way of my half-cups to squeeze and roll my right nipple. The clamp closed onto its tip as I watched in fascination and felt the pressure build till it was just bordering on painful. My left nipple he suckled to attention until it was also interred within a tight brass clamp. I bit my lip a bit to keep from moaning as Greg's father returned to the center of our triangle. `The crowning excitement for the evening come from our own son, Greg', Arch continued as he opened the larger box on the table.

The other two ladies laughed as they saw what was inside, but I froze. My mind never even went into gear as a horrified, `No', escaped my lips. Tears began to roll down my cheeks as I looked into the box and saw the three brightly colored feathers. I turned to Greg and pleaded, `No. Please anything but that. Whip me with any whip that you want, but please not the feather again.' I hid my eyes behind my arm, not able to look at him. All eyes were focused on me now and there looks were as horrified as mine.

`Greg haven't you collared Sharon yet?' Arch asked incredulously. I had no idea what they were talking about. Of course he had had me wear collars and even leashes. Heck, what about the posture collar earlier this evening!

My lover and master hung his head in shame as his face turned red, `No, sir I haven't.' He shuffled his feet like a kid brought before the principle. `It didn't seem necessary up until now and I had wanted to wait until we had our own place… you know to make it special.'

`Oh Son', his father replied softly. `I can understand that, but in that case you shouldn't have brought her to the party tonight.'

`I'm sorry Mom and Dad', Greg responded raising his head. `Sharon and I will get our stuff and leave. Truthfully, I'm sorry.'

`Oh no you don't!' Cassy nearly shouted. `You two aren't going anywhere!' She gave Greg a stare that would have melted bricks and told him, `You just hold your horses mister while I talk to Sharon.'

She turned to me and her gaze became much softer and loving. `Hun, do you have any idea what we are talking about?' I shook my head `no' but didn't say anything. `Being collared by your master is a little ritual that has been around for hundreds of years. In the past slaves were forced into there collars and whipped until they obeyed without reservation. It's become more civilized now and you can choose to wear your Masters collar. If you agree to become his slave and wear his collar you are whipped by your Master. The collar symbolizes his ownership and the whipping shows that you are willing to do anything that he wish's of you to please him.' I nodded my head in acceptance. That wouldn't be a problem he could whip me anytime he wanted.

`You still don't get it do you?' Cassy said as she looked deep into my eyes. `Anything he wishes includes tickling you with that feather. That's why we all knew that you weren't really Greg's slave yet, because if you were you would have never questioned his right to do anything he wanted with you.' She switched her glare back to her step-son and snapped at him, `Within reason of course!' My mind was in a total whirl. I couldn't believe what I had just heard from that elfin little soul, yet at the same time her words reined in my panic. Cassy was just as calm as could be telling me what I suppose I had always known but hadn't really taken to this final extension. `Greg, I don't want you two to leave and what I think you should do is collar the girl here and now… as long as she's willing.'

`Cassy, I'm a man now and I will determine what is reasonable and not reasonable with my lover', Greg said with a voice as hard as steel. He softened it and continued, `But for the record, I love Sharon and I wouldn't push her farther than she can stand.' He paused for a moment and then continued, `Cassy, you brought Dad back to me when I thought he was lost forever. You've led both of us onto paths that have given us happiness. You have been the mother to me that I never thought that I would ever want again… for you mom, if this is what you want, is the least I can do.' My eyes were watering at the love pouring from my man and I don't think that anyone in the room wasn't near tears or openly crying. Cassy had tears sliding down her cheeks as Greg kissed her forehead before he turned his gaze on me. That love of his began to pour into me like a river that literally shook me to my core.

Taking my head in his hands he wiped away my tears with his thumbs. `Sharon, I wanted this to be a special occasion just between us, but I love my mom and I don't want to ruin her party, so I am asking you here and now will you wear my collar?'

I looked into his loving eyes that also held that steel that I had heard in his voice moments before. I felt myself hanging in my bonds and the pressure on my toes as I balanced in my awkward heels. I stood there totally helpless and knew that I was there because he wanted me to be, but also because it thrilled me like nothing else to please this man before me.

`My name is baby', I answered softly. `I've been yours from the day we met and I want to be yours forever.'

A tear rolled down his cheek and he kissed me lightly on the lips. `Will you wear my collar and submit to me in all things relating to bondage?'

`Yes Master', I replied equally softly.

`Know this one last thing before you give your final answer.' Greg said to me as the steel crept into his eyes. `You will not be whipped for your slave initiation, nor will you be left standing as you are now.' He paused as he stood back from me. `You will be hung upside down and tickled with the feather that you fear so for your initiation.' He picked up the long red feather, `Now I will ask you once again, will you wear my collar and submit to me in all things relating to bondage?'

I lowered my eyes and tried not to cry. I pushed the fear behind me and thought of this man that I loved. In refusing to be tickled I had done what should never be done, I had lowered him in the eyes of his friends and parents in the one area he was looking for accreditation. My lack of restraint had made him seem less my Master than he was, and less than he should ever be seen to be by anyone else. I had no choice and I knew what I must do.

I straightened myself as best that I could and said demurely, `If it pleases you Master, I beg to wear your collar.' It was the strongest thought that I could phrase to show my love for him and his watering eyes made me feel content that I had found the right words.

The room exploded into noise as the men clapped and my fellow captives offered me their praises and congratulations. Greg's dad walked over and put his hand on one of his shoulders, `This isn't exactly how I thought that your mother's party was going to turn out, but I'm proud of you' he turned and looked at me `proud of both of you. I think that I speak for all of us in that we are honored to be here for your initiation baby. Usually an initiation is just between the two of you, but you've already become part of our family in so many ways that it seems fitting for us all to be here as witnesses. Congratulations young lady, despite the fact that I may not be totally impartial, I think you are getting yourself a wonderful Master!'

I smiled a truly genuine smile for the first time in what seemed like a long time as I looked over at my man. He was just that my man, just as much as I was his woman, slave, whatever you wish to call it. I felt the warmth of my love for him begin to burn inside me once more as the helplessness of my situation began to cause another fire to build within me. `Thank you very much Sir. I hope that I will always make your son happy and at the same time proud to be my Master.'

Arch turned to Greg, `Do you have HER collar with you or are you going to have to use a substitute?'

`No. I've had it for some time', Greg answered as he reached down into his bondage carry-all and pulled out a crushed velvet bag bound at its top with a leather thong. He opened it and pulled out a collar that made me gasp in surprise. It was a truly gorgeous piece of work of soft red leather that matched my corset perfectly. It wasn't overly wide and had three chrome d-rings at the front and on each side. Stitched in white script letters between each of these rings was my slave name, baby.

`It's beautiful Master', I breathed ever so softly.

`I made it for you myself and I'm glad that you think it is beautiful. It was my one desire to make such a collar that would fit you perfectly. Soft and yet strong, bold and yet beautiful.' He said this softly as he put the collar about my neck from behind me and cinched the buckle closed.

It rested about my throat softly, but the real weight and meaning of what had just happened reverberated through my soul. I stood tall in my incredible heels and felt like a million dollars as I realized that my collar linked me to Greg more than any diamond ring ever could. The desires of our souls were joined in what some might call a dark way, but to me it was a bright and shinning path. Then he held up the feather to remind me of the final piece of my slave initiation.

I looked at that feather as if it were a cobra waiting to bite me. In fact it scared me more than a snake bite because I knew what to expect when it touched my skin and that was one of the most horrific things that I had ever felt. When the children were tickling me from every angle it was such a shock to my system that I had lost control of my body. All I could do was react, lunging away from each touch that fell on my sensitive skin like hot irons. I wanted to scream to him, please just whip me. I knew how painful that could be, but I could take it whereas tickling was something that was just beyond my ability to handle.

A tear rolled down my cheek as I held in my fear and horror. I hated the thought of being tickled at all and I knew that this session would be truly merciless. Looking into Greg's eyes I could see his love and concern but it was buried beneath the steel of what he knew must be done to totally break me to his will. I had always fully intended to be everything that he could possibly want in a submissive partner, but this was the most difficult thing he had ever asked of me.

Steeling myself to what must happen I began a relaxing chant in my head reminding me of how wonderful Greg made me feel. His warm hands binding me into helpless captivity. His experienced digits giving me glorious orgasms one after another. The way he used his nipple clamps, whips, gags and blindfolds to drive me to stronger and stronger orgasms. Hmmm, yes, joining his world had given me a freedom that I had never known existed and I couldn't imagine walking away from it or from him.

With that thought in my mind Greg began to prepare me for my ordeal. He lowered me till I was sitting on the floor with my legs stretched out in front of me. My cuffs were removed from my wrists and which he proceeded to wrap into a black leather arm-binder. My ankle cuffs were replaced with a slightly larger set of suspension cuffs to which the cables were now attached. That was the last thing I saw before the leather mask slid down over my eyes.

I forced myself to remain calm and soon my ears picked up the whirl of the electric generators and I felt my ankles being raised into the air. This part was the fun part of my bondage as with Greg's support, I was lifted into the air. The sensation of being bound upside down, with the blood rushing into my head and pounding in my ears was something that thrilled me beyond words. I couldn't imagine a more helpless position and somehow that once again set off the fire between my legs.

The first touch of the feather was so soft that it was if it wasn't even touching me, yet I knew it was there just hovering just above my quivering pussy lips. All too soon it was caressing my sex as if he were dusting it and I completely lost it. `OH MY GOD', I cried as my entire body arched upwards trying to close myself and hide from his ministrations as if I were some type of jack knife. I held my stunned body in that position through the brute strength of my stomach muscles until what felt like liquid fire slid across my back. I felt myself snap back until my head was down where it started. My dazed mind registered the unusual feel of my hair brushing the floor as I swung wildly from my widely spread ankles.

`Ooooowwwwwww', I bellowed as another brush of the feather seared my chest. I had no control over my body which was twisting from side to side and causing the bells hanging from my nipples to ring unceasingly. Whatever pain they were causing my nipples was lost to me as my detached mind goggled at the incredible torment that I was being forced to endure.

Another flick of the feather against my crotch forced my arms to pull with every ounce of my strength to try vainly to free them selves. `Aaaeeeeiiii', I screamed as the crotch rope that secured my wrists tore into my unprotected vagina.

My body writhed about me in a tortured dance that I could barely comprehend. Through all of the pain and suffering the nagging heat of an orgasm began to take hold of me. Each touch of the feather, each pull of the bells at my sensitive nipples and each pull on the rope that slid between my legs caused my excitement to overwhelm my torment.

Even when the feather wasn't touching me, my mind which had begun to reconnect with my body, kept me constantly writhing. I was pulling at my wrists and shaking my chest simply to keep the excitement building. Just thinking of myself helplessly hanging in my shackles made my loins burn. Thoughts that my Master had forced me into heels that I couldn't even walk in turned that burn into an inferno. Finally, the incredible tightness of my corset as I twisted and turned in my unquenched dance of pleasure brought me to near volcano level.

Vaguely I could hear murmurs in the background. A stray word or two began to penetrate my single minded drive to find the pleasure through the window of pain. `I can't believe it… she's can't be… oh my God he has her… actually getting close to orgasm.' Their words all melded together and it mattered little to me, all that mattered was what happened next.

`SLAP', the crack of Greg's hand flat against my pussy sounded like the shot of a pistol. Once, twice, three times and then like a tidal wave the orgasm that had been building all night long swept over me. `Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes…' I cried out in ecstasy. The searing touch of the feather didn't bother me any further as all of my being was focused on the incredible feeling of being totally and completely filled with the warmth and joy of my beautiful gut wrenching orgasm. The feather now became my friend as it usefulness dropped as a scourge, my lover and Master switched its play area to my breasts. Teasing the bells kept my orgasm flowing through me like a wild river.

`Thank you Master. Thank you Master. Thank you Master.' I cried out over and over again as my bodies gyrations slowed until I hung there in exquisite exhaustion. I felt myself go limp and said once more, `Thank you Master' in a voice that told the world of my contentment and total sexual satisfaction.

I had sensed the silence in the room more than heard it when my Master had used his painful little slaps to drive me into orgasm. Now the room once again exploded into noise and voices as everyone began to talk at once.

`My God, She is incredible', I heard Cassy cry out.

`What do you mean her, Greg was incredible. He rode her like a wild colt and broke her to his will without breaking incredible spirit of hers', Arch said loudly in reply.

Michael and Sam, nearly said in unison, `They are both incredible!'

While all the noise and discussion surged around us, Greg lowered me and switched my cuffs around. In a few minutes I was wiggling nebulously in my extreme heels as my wrists were pulled back into the air. Despite my near total exhaustion, I was feeling so completely wonderful that I even found a nearly painless way to stand in my ballet heels. If I let my weight sit directly above my toes and kept my body in a straight line above them they were down right comfortable. The padded toe box was a far site more pleasant to be pushed into than those six inch stiletto pumps he favored. The way that they bent my toes, instead of letting them be straight as in my ballet shoes, could be really painful.

It was still difficult to keep the heels steady, but I preserved and as my blindfold was removed I gained some little control over them. I smiled at him and begged him with my eyes and partially opened lips to kiss me. My loving Master Greg responded with a gusto that nearly made me lose my composure all over again, but with a real effort I kept it together.

`Not bad baby', he told me with one of his roguish grins, `Not bad at all.'

`Why thank you Master', I said with a smile. Then I remembered, `Excuse me thank you Sir.'

Greg's dad came up to me and kissed me on each cheek. `You can call him Master all you want honey as he has certainly proved that he is that!' I blushed but he missed that as he turned to his wife. `Well, Cassy, you and Sam have been hanging around for a half-an-hour already, but I think that it's time to change our plans and take a page from the newest Master in our midst play book.'

Cassy looked at Arch intently as she balanced all so perfectly in her ballet boots. `And just what did you have in mind Sir?'

`Getting you off while you are hanging there so helplessly is what I had in mind.' Then without waiting for her reply he said to Mr. Thatcher, `Is that acceptable to you Michael?' He took at quick uncertain glance towards his wife before he nodded affirmatively. `Greg?' Unlike Mr. Thatcher, who I had once thought of as the perfect master, Greg didn't need to look at me to know my mind.

`Heck Dad, I know that Sharon is up for as many O's as I'll see fit to give her', he said with his best grin. `But after the sexual energy that she put into the room I think that you gentlemen had best get down to business because your ladies must be aching for a taste!'

Arch looked back over at Cassy who was smiling at him. Above her cuffs she was using a crooked finger to call him over and play with her. `You know my boy, I think that you right. Tally ho!'

Greg lowered the blindfold down over my eyes and that was the last thought that I had for everyone else in the room. I suppose my own moans and the jingling of the bells on my breasts mingled with the other ladies, but my world closed into simply my need and my Master's touch so I will never know for sure.

I vaguely remember having a short spreader bar placed between my legs and feeling a thickly ribbed dildo slide into my sex. Then at Greg's urging, I learned that I could impale myself on the hard rubber phallus by squatting and then straightening. He whispered to me that if I wanted to come that I would have to work for it and he didn't lie. Squatting in the incredible spikes was at first nearly impossible, but my need drove me and soon I became very adept. As the pseudo penis drove in and out of me like a piston in some infernal engine I could feel my orgasm coming closer and closer. Just when I was ready to scream for joy at the apex of my sexual frenzy, I felt and heard the snap of the crop upon my already tensed butt cheeks. Since I was squatting the under-handed blow forced me back up to a standing position, nearly knocking me off of my heels. Before I knew what was happening I felt a downward blow against the top of my buttocks force me back down again. Then with the precision that only my Master can attain he whipped me up and down onto and off of the fake thick prick until the pleasure and pain merged into another impossibly magical orgasm!

I'm pretty sure that he brought me to three more orgasms before he finally let me down. I may have fainted into his arms afterwards because I woke up lying on the couch in the living room with a light blanket pulled over me. My heels were history and I was once again in my soft sensuous satin slippers. Every part of me ached, yet I hadn't felt this good or sated in my entire life. God, I thought to myself, it just kept getting better and better.

The discussion that was flowing around me started to make sense and I realized that the thread of the conversation concerned the office. Mr. Thatcher was talking about the S&M Contest and how Lucinda had once again pointed out that we were missing a great sales opportunity by not fielding a team. I was a bit miffed that I didn't get credit for pointing out the issue, but my fuzzy mind glossed over that as I heard my own voice say, `I think that my Master should enter me in the contest.'

All eyes turned to me and I realized that I had said what I was thinking out loud. I blushed profusely and thankfully Greg stepped into the void.

`Sharon has been trying to get me to enter us in the contest. She thinks that the opportunity to the company is too good to pass up and she's willing to put her butt, literally, on the line to prove it', he said this with a great sigh. `I've tried to dissuade her by telling her how in sync with your partner you have to be just to get past the first event, but she just doesn't see it.' He shook his head sadly, `Heck, that type of team work normally takes years to develop!'

`Well maybe you are the one that needs to open his eyes', Cassy said to him softly. `And the key word to your problem is "normally".

`What?' Greg cried incredulously.

`Your mother is right son', said Arch as he picked up the torch of the conversation. `Sharon is incredible and like the young colt that she is she needs to find the pace that will suit her and you both. But don't discount yourselves because you have been together such a short time, no boy don't make that mistake. Your mother is right, normally it would take quite a while to make such a team, but you two aren't normal. You and that young lady flow together like two rivers at a confluence, there is no beginning or ending you both move as if you are one.'

`But Dad, the training time alone to get to the point where we could have a chance at competing would take months! We just don't have enough time with the contest only six weeks off!' Greg said in exasperation.

`Greg your Father and mother are right' Samantha added. `You don't see it yet, but you and Sharon have this uncanny ability to feed into each other and know just what the other wants and needs. I've seen it time and again tonight and its like some kind of sexy symbiosis.'

Greg still seemed to be unconvinced until Mr. Thatcher jumped in. `I know that I'm looking at this in a different light Greg, but the company could really use this. We are becoming just like all of the other big specialty sex companies and our sales have flattened out over the last three or four years because of it. Your Dad and Harry were trying to break that stigma with his new line of bondage furniture, but that is a small niche audience that we will be pursuing not our general population. Now this contest could be the big break that we have all been looking for!' He was beaming with fervor as he warmed to his subject. `Just look at the two of you… your both gorgeous and the crowds will eat you up. And if you can get into the electives… my God think of the sales potential!' He paused for a minute lost in his own thoughts and then went on. `If you two want to go for it Leather and Lace will totally stand behind you. We'll cut your working hours in half for a start and more if you need it. Any other kind of help that we can provide will be totally at your disposal. So what do you say?'

Greg looked over at me and now that I had fully awakened I smiled as brightly as I could at him. `You really want to do this don't you Sharon?'

I wanted to scream, yes, but this was too important to me to be flippant about it. `Greg remember our little bet that I lost?' He nodded his head, yes. `And remember how you let us both win and gave me my wish.'

`Sure I told you that you had carte blanche regarding any one decision that effected our lives together', he replied softly. `But I thought you would want to use it on the house we buy or something like that.'

`No honey, those things aren't important enough to me', I said earnestly. `Since Mr. Thatcher and his team took me in I have lived, breathed and slept Leather and Lace. The company isn't just a set of financial records to me it is the epitome of what makes people like me and you happy. And I want to bring the happiness that you all have brought to me to everyone that is willing to embrace it.' I looked at him in deadly seriousness `I'm calling that marker due now Greg, are you with me?'

`Am I with you?' He replied disgustedly as her wrapped me into his warm inviting arms. `And just where else would I be darlin', he said in his mock Irish accent that he favored at times like these. `Mind you lass, over the next six long weeks I'm sure that you'll `a be regrettin' your decision! But so be it lass, so be it.'

Leather & Lace

Chapter 19 – Let the training commence!

By the White Knight

When we arrived home I was tired, exhausted and in great need of a shower. Greg made it clear though that the evening was not over for yours truly. Showering as quickly as possible, I blew dry my hair, reapplied my makeup before donning my pink fluffy bath robe to re-enter the bed room. To my surprise he wasn't waiting for me, though the clacking of computer keys in the other room answered that question. The outfit laid out on the bed answered the other that was what I was expected to wear.

I slipped into the form fitting gold and black bustier and fussed with the hook and eye closures in the rear. There were set in three rows which allowed me to custom fit it to my own body, but it was a true pain reaching behind my back time and time again. The good thing was that despite looking like a corset it didn't have that immobilizing effect and this meant that I could put on the golden toned stockings and the black patent leather pumps with ease. I was happy to see that the heels that he had picked were a mere five inches with a sexy double ankle strap. These were easy to walk in and not totally unpleasant to stand in.

The last piece of my wardrobe was my brand new collar. The color clashed with my outfit, but I could see that the significance of its meaning over shadowed that minor concern. I sat down on the bed, crossed my knees and rested my hands on top of them. `Master, I have completed dressing as you requested', I called through the open door.

`I'll be with you in five minutes', he responded, `don't move.'

True to his word he showed up shortly afterwards and ordered me to stand. `Step to the foot of the bed, about three feet from the post and bend over and hold onto it. I'm going to give you two dozen lashes and I want you to count each one.'

This explained my lack of panties and the sturdier heels, but I couldn't for the life of me understand why I was being punished. I followed my orders and despite my own better judgment hesitatingly asked, `Did I do something wrong Master?'

I received no answer until all twenty-four strokes had been a given and accounted for. My ass and thighs felt like they were on fire as he said in a happy voice, `No you did everything just right. But a feather is not a whip and your initiation should have been just between us.' With that he gave me a pat to my fanny that felt like I had been struck by the whip again.

`My God, I'm not going to be able to sit for quite a while!' I moaned as I felt my ass reverberating from its rough treatment.

`That's fine', he replied, `you stand just as you are for another hour, I'm sure your heels will be happy to keep you company. After the hour is up you can come to bed.' He looked at my questioning eyes. `Yes, you can remove your heels when you come to bed, but make sure that you put your slippers on in their place.' Then he gave me a resounding whack to my aching ass as he said, `I'm off to bed.'

He slid under the covers and turned away from me as I stood there silently suffering while I held on to the bed post. He turned back to me and I hoped beyond hope that he was going to change his mind and let me come to bed with him. `Oh, when you come to bed, wake me with a blow job. I never did get a chance to get off this evening, unlike some people!'

`Is that all Master?' I asked acidly.

`Yes, I think that will do nicely baby', he said with a smile. Then he rolled back over and I heard him murmur softly, `I think that I am going to like this catch up training!'

The next morning began with a bang or in my case a sharp slap across my rear. `All right out of bed sleepy head time to start your training', Greg said to me brightly.

`But what about my aerobic work out?' I asked fuzzily as I was still waking up.

`You've a hour until you normally get up for your workout so don't worry', he told me graciously. `During that half-hour you will change your outfit entirely three times, blow me and then strip and put on your work out leotard. Is that clear?'

`Yes, I suppose', I answered as I climbed out of bed. `But what three outfits do you want me to wear?'

`That would be Yes Master, we are in training', he told me sternly, yet let my mistake slide. `There is a typed list on your vanity table. Also I have laid out all of the items on that list in three piles on the hope chest at the foot of the bed. As you finish putting on each outfit you will come into the computer room for inspection, where I will be working on our strategy for the contest. Oh by the way you're being timed as of now!'

With that he left and I ran over to the vanity and retrieved the list as I began pulling my bustier off. The first outfit was a peignoir set to which he had added a garter belt, stockings, spike heel mules and gloves. I threw it all on quickly and then ran as fast as I could, in the five inch heels, into the computer room.

`Stop', he called as I ran through the door. I slid to a stop and he told me to stand up straight. Walking over to me he looked me over and the look he was giving me made me scared.

`Your gown is rumpled, your hair is a mess and you still have the make up on that you wore yesterday evening', he said with an air of detached animosity. `Turn and lift up your gown', he ordered. I did as instructed. `And your seams aren't straight.'

`Turn around and drop your skirts', I again followed directions. `You are under the ten minute mark, but you have received four demerits for your lapses. If you receive ten demerits, yesterday nights whipping will feel like a love tap. Do you understand?'

`Yes Master', I said in a frightened voice.

`Here' he said as he threw me a pair of my isotoner slippers. `Put these on, drop and give me ten push ups.'

I slipped quickly out of my mules and put on the soft slippers, knelt and began my push ups. As I did them I asked, `You want me to follow your commands unerringly, is that it Master?'

`That's part of the reason', he answered easily. `The other is that I want to build more definition to your muscle groups and slim your waist just a bit for the finale when where we are going to turn you into a seductress.' My face heated at this as I knew that my body was pretty darn spectacular. `I shouldn't have to explain my motives, but you are still so new to this that I will. You are incredibly beautiful baby. Your aerobics keeps you fit, trim and graceful looking. What I'm looking for is just the hint of muscle definition in both the legs and arms to give you that more sensuous caged feline look. Dangerous unless kept in check. Do you understand?'

I felt relived as I regained my feet, `Yes, Master I think so. Thank you for your explanation.'

`Good', he replied, `now give me ten squats'. He demonstrated by bending his knees and lowering his hips towards his spread ankles while he kept his back straight.' I had done moves like this in both ballet and yoga so after spreading my arms gracefully I dipped and straightened the ten times that I was required.

`That's my girl, now off with you to your second outfit. I'll start timing you in fifteen seconds so that you can get back to the bedroom.' Greg intoned as he sat back down at the desk and began typing.'

This went on for two more outfits and both times I received more demerits. Despite taking more time and effort to create `the look' I still received more crummy marks. First was for taking to long when I put on my make up and than on the next outfit because I hadn't changed my make up to the new color scheme. Unfortunately they weren't the only demerits as I received more for my garter belts being misaligned, my panties bunched and my breasts not seated properly. Thank God, that only made nine, yet regardless I looked at my Master worriedly.

`Not to worry baby, you squeaked by today. Give me thirty more of those squats that you do so gracefully and will call it even', Greg said warmly.

I breathed a sigh of relief and moved into position. Bending my knees I began to count. In between beats I said conversationally, `The reason that I do them so… two… gracefully is that these are a ballet move called… three… a demi-plie or a half plie. I did them for years and years… four… when I was younger and thank God my body still remembers!' I continued my counting as Greg continued to type.

He finished and turned to me, `Listen to this strategy that I've concocted for the contest. During the first three qualifying events we are basically limited to the same outfits as all of the other contestants, but in the electives we get to pick our own outfits and that is where the rubber is going to meet the road.'

`The electives', I repeated perplexed. `You were just saying yesterday that we only had a one in ten chance of getting to the electives.'

`If we are going to do this, we are going to do this to win baby', Greg replied determinedly. `I can't do this any other way. How about you?'

`No. Master, that's perfect. I'm sorry for interrupting you. You were saying?' All right I screamed to myself as I listened attentively, we were on the way!

`The way I see it you look like the perfect girl next store and Malibu Barbie all wrapped into one. We want to use that to our advantage by portraying you as the sweet little innocent, you know Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm type, right up until the finale. Then we change the pace and turn you into the total femme fatale!

`The girl next store', I repeated thoughtfully. `No, more like Alice through the Looking Glass'.

`Hmmm, what was that?' Greg asked me in a distracted voice as he looked back towards something on the computer screen.

`Actually, I feel more like Alice in "Alice through the looking Glass"' I responded. `You know the innocent girl delving into a fantasy world.'

`Oh, you mean "Alice in Wonderland"', he replied now that I had his attention.

`To you plebeians perhaps, but to the informed English major the name of the original work was "Alice through the looking Glass", I jested mildly.

He snapped his fingers, `You know you may have something there! What if we dress you up as a sexy Alice during the elective events. Your blond hair hanging loosely about your shoulders, perhaps even add a few curls. That blue dress with the white apron that she wears could be shortened to hip length and add some petticoats to fluff it up. The shirt could be of a white transparent material in a peasant style with short puffy sleeves. The panties of course have to be ruffled and crotch-less. The stockings should be white tights, but also with an open crotch. The shoes to go with it… hmm, perhaps some low heeled Mary Janes. No, I'm not crazy about that, we'll have to figure out the shoes later, but what do you think about the rest of the idea?' He asked me with unconcealed excitement in his voice and eyes.

`I think it is a wonderful idea Master', I answered equally excited. We were finally both on the same page and it felt great to be working like this with my lover. `I'm a pretty fair artist so when you free me from my training today I could whip you up a couple of drawings that we could take to a seamstress.'

`Excellent', he responded as he stood and hugged me tightly to his chest. `The best thing about this plan is that you can wear that outfit in all four of the elective events and that will eliminate the entire need for the quick change routine', he said in glee. `Which means that we can stop wasting our time on that chicken shit and get down to the real work at hand!'

He turned back to the computer, to re-work his strategy and said off-handedly over his shoulder. `You are free to go do you normal work out and take your shower. Afterwards I want you back in here in a short skirt, stockings and bring two or three sets of your six inch heels.'

It was hard to keep my mind on my work out as I wondered what next Greg had in store for my training. Obviously it had something to do with high heels, but I continued to mull over the possibilities.

I arrived back in the room dressed in a simple tartan skirt that was a shade too long to be called a mini and a sleeveless button down white top. In my hands I carried three sets of red heels.

`Excellent', Greg told me as he looked me up and down, `that outfit will do perfectly. Now put on the most comfortable pair of the heels that you have with you and lets see you walk.'

I slipped into the red patent leather sandals and stood up hesitantly. Fortunately, I had never put a carpet in this room so the hard wood floor made a solid foundation. I walked sluggishly across the room trying to remember everything that I had learned, but the one inch difference between five and six inch heels made a noticeable difference. Being third in line at Cassy's party had made it easy to hide my naiveté, but now I was embarrassed at how evident that it must look to Greg.

`Hmmm', he said thoughtfully. `You were doing much better a couple of days ago, are you sure that those are your most comfortable heels?'

`Yes, Master, they are the most comfortable pair of six inch heels', I answered pointedly. `And the reason that I was doing better before was because they were only five and a quarter inch heels and the extra inch does make a big difference.' I told him honestly. He had me continue to walk back and forth for another thirty minutes, until he called a halt. I fell exhaustedly into a nearby chair.

`You not getting any better baby and you say those are your most comfortable heels?' He asked in a concerned tone.

I nodded glumly. `Yes, unless you let me wear the five inch heels Master.'

`No', he shook his head adding permanency to his decision. `I've been reading all of the web site documentation and message boards and it looks like five inch is the price of admission this year. So if we want to win we really need to have you in six inch heels from the start. Unfortunately, I've never had to train anyone to walk in heels before so this is all new to me.' His face cleared up and he added with his usual optimism, `Alright then why don't you take a rest while I finish reading all of the contests literature. Afterwards will put our heads together to come up with our strategy for each event and that will led us to our training regime! As for the heels maybe I can get some ideas from Mike or Sam.'

I brightened up at that thought. Sure Samantha's video was teaching us newbies how to walk in heels. She would definitely be able to help us! But right now I was just happy to be taking off my heels and sliding back into my comfy satin slippers.

I gathered up a pad and my colored pencils and set to work sketching out some ideas for my "Alice" costume. I started with my memories of the very innocent little girl dress, with white knee socks and low heel Mary Janes. It was a good start, but the skirt was too long, so I tried again. This time I shortened the skirt length and added the petticoat so that it barely covered my rear end. I colored in my legs pure white to simulate tights, but left my feet shoeless as I agreed with Greg that the Mary Janes just wouldn't cut it. My eyes were now drawn to the dresses bodice, it was to blah… to unrevealing.

Idly, as I waited for inspiration to strike on the "Alice" costume, I was sketching a corset as the first event of the competition ran through my mind. All at once it hit me. I grabbed my L&L catalogue and flipped to the custom corset section. Yes! I began sketching again changing the bodice to a Victorian under the bust corset with straps. The straps were wide and the corset pointed in an inverted V between my breasts totally emphasizing my breasts in the see-through peasant blouse. The short skirt with the petticoats and white stockings all worked perfectly together. Now it was just the right footwear for the outfit that eluded me.

I went back to my sketch of my corset and added my legs and then my new ballet shoes. As I worked at getting the arch of my foot just right to make the shoes look right it all fell together.

I went back to my Alice costume and added baby blue pointe ballet slippers complete with the ribbons about my ankles. This was it this was the innocent yet sexy Alice that Greg wanted to create!

I hurriedly picked up my sketches and ran back into the computer room. I spilled out my story to Greg as he looked over the picture. `Oh yes, this is excellent. I can definitely use this. Think about it we do the hogtie the same as at Cassy's and you arch your feet in the ballet slippers. Then we use the stool and tie you over it so you can again show off your highly arched sole. Then for the suspension and the pole I tie you up with just the toes of your ballet slippers touching the ground. What did you call that position?' He asked.

`On pointe', I said off-handedly as my thoughts turned to my very rusty ballet skills.

Greg didn't realize that I was lost in thought and went on, `And I love this sketch of you in the corset with your ballet heels from last night. We have to use something like that as the finale.' Greg's face began to cloud. `Off course that means that you would have to at least be able to stand in those nine inch heels and we haven't even got you into the sixes!'

Spurred into motion he picked up the phone and dialed. `Hi Mike. Sharon and I have been working on her training and wondered if we could ask your lovely wife a question or two?' I couldn't hear the reply and motioned this silently to Greg. He nodded and put the phone onto speaker mode so that we could both hear and talk.

`Hello, Greg', Sharon answered brightly, `what can I do for you two?'

He motioned to me to speak, `Hi Sam, its me Sharon, I've been trying to walk in six inch heels that we will need for competition and I just can't seem to get it right. I've been following your instructions from the Bondage Instruction videos which has worked fine for five inch heels, but the six inch heels… ugh!'

`Let me guess', Sharon said lightly, `you feel like the Leaning Tower of Piazza in that you're always leaning too far forward?'

`That's it exactly!' I responded. `How can I fix it?'

`You're not going to like my answer, because there is no easy fix', she said gently. `The key is to find your center, so that you are always keeping your back straight and you weight centered just a bit forward of directly over your heels. The best way to do this is to just stand in front of the mirror and watch your posture. In conjunction with that you have to make sure that your ankles aren't wobbling and that you are able to keep them straight. Once you have the standing correct just remember to lean back and relax when you walk. Heel touches first and toe shortly afterwards. After you've done all of that its practice, practice and more practice. I'm sorry honey, but I don't know of any short cuts.' She paused and then added, `And for your own health, don't practice for long periods of time all in the same day, you'll mess up your tendons.'

I sighed in resignation then asked, `Do you have any tips for walking in my nine inch ballet shoes?'

`Yes, honey, don't!' Samantha said more forcefully. `It is barely possible to walk in ballet boots which give a lot more support to your ankle and that still takes years of practice.'

Tears began to form in my eyes as all my plans for participating in the contest began to fall into ruins. `Thaaannkkss…' I stumbled over my words and had to stop entirely as I began to sob. Greg thanked Samantha, hung up and took me into his arms. I crawled onto his lap like a hurt child and just let my tears run free.

`I'm sorry', I said through my sobs, `I've failed you Master.'

`Nonsense baby', Greg said softly, `we've only just begun. There has to be another way. Someone else that knows something that Sam doesn't know.' He paused as if he was sure that he believed his own words, yet continued brightly, `Heck, if not we'll just go to plan two and use five inch heels and ballet boots.'

Now I was in total devils advocate mode and responded hotly, `You said it yourself, if we want to win that I would need to be in six inch heels. As for the boots I'm sure you saw in your reading that they were the big loser last year. On top of all of that you want me to stand "on pointe" in ballet slippers, which is something that I haven't done in half-a-dozen years!'

`There has got to be someone that can pull all of this together', Greg said disgustedly. `Ballet, Ballet shoes, high heels… who knows about all of those things and would help us?'

No one is who, I thought to myself as my tears continued to fall on his shoulder. Maybe just maybe I could master the six inch heels in six weeks time, but the nine inch ballet shoes… impossible. I couldn't even imagine walking in them when Lucinda gave them to me. Lucinda…

`Hmmm, what did you say?' Greg asked.

I must have spoken out loud at that thought and now as it coalesced I became excited. `Lucinda!' I answered breathlessly. `Remember she offered to teach me to walk in the ballet shoes. She also started to train me in walking in heels the night she tried to make me hers.'

`Yeah, I'm still not crazy about that', Greg told me.

`Wait it gets better', I said as my eyes lit up with my excitement level. `When we were telling each other our life histories, she told me that she still teaches ballet in the evening. She said it kept her in shape, but if I read correctly between the lines it probably also the source of her… companions.'

`I see where you are going with this and I'm not sure that I like it', Greg said evenly. `On the other hand we are between a rock and a hard place and we really could use her help.' He was silent for a second as I continued to beam my excitement at him. `Alright will do it!'

This time he started the phone in speaker mode as he dialed. `Hello, Ms. Grant's residence', was said by a young female voice.

`Hello, this is Greg Stanton, is Lucinda in please.'

`Just one minute Sir and I'll see if she is in'.

`Hello Greg, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?' Lucinda answered in an oily tone.

`We need your help Lucinda', Greg told her quickly. `Let me back up a second and give you some back ground. Sharon has wanted us to represent L&L at the Bondage Convention Contest for awhile now and she and my Dad talked me into it last night.'

`My goodness that is an aggressive time frame to turn such a newcomer into a flawless bondage partner', she said smoothly.

`That part I feel confident that we can handle', Greg answered her no-pulsed by her obvious dig. `It's our strategy to win that concerns me. I need her to be able to walk in six inch heels like a pro and be able to at the very minimum stand in the ballet heels that you were so kind to give her.'

`In six weeks time?' Lucinda asked in a tone that didn't require an answer. `Hmmm, is there anything else that you need?'

Her barbs were starting to hit home with Greg and I could see his face turning visibly darker… `Yes, there is' I answered her. `I also need a fast refresher course in ballet, to re-master the `on pointe' position which we want to use during the competition.' Greg looked at me angrily and I shrugged my shoulders. After a bit, he nodded his head in acceptance as he knew that we needed her more than she did us.

`My, my, my, that's quite a lot to fit in a very short time frame', she said airily.

`Can you do it or not?' Greg barked.

`Lucinda, it would mean a lot to me… to us' I added as my eyes begged Greg not to be mad at me for going against him.

`For you darling anything… both of you', Lucinda responded largely in her exaggerated New England educated accent. `Six weeks is tight, but as I remember you are quite skilled for one so new to her status so I believe that we can achieve those goals. I'll see you at four this afternoon and we will see where your aptitude lies so that we can decide what you need to work on.'

`Hmmm, ummm… my status changed', I told her uneasily.

`Whatever do you mean darling?' Lucinda rejoined.

`Greg broke me to his collar last night', I said softly as I looked into his eyes. The anger in them vanished and I felt his love and pride flow into me.

Lucinda, to her credit, didn't miss a beat, `Congratulations Greg you couldn't have picked a finer young lady! I suppose that your father and I were right just this once.'

Even in her praise she had to add a dig and I couldn't help feel that it was because of me. Greg on the other hand seemed to have grown in stature at my admission and let it fall form him like water from a ducks back. `Thank you Lucinda, for both Sharon and I' then he chuckled as he relaxed, `and yes Aunty Lucinda you were right, Sharon is the perfect woman for me.'

Greg put the phone on mute and said softly to me, `She hates it when I call her Aunty Lucinda.'

`Hmmm, yes well then I suppose you should come along also' She responded sounding just a bit miffed. `In fact it will be necessary for you to learn what Sharon needs to be taught so that you can keep her on track. I'm not saying that I can transplant all of my knowledge to you in such a short period of time, but I'm sure that I can teach you what to look for when she is doing something basically incorrectly.'

Greg smiled, `that would be wonderful Aunty, will be there with bells on a 4pm.'

`Fine, I'll see you then', Lucinda said in a snit and hung up the phone. Oh, Lord this afternoon was going to be a whole bunch of fun with those two going at each other like this!

He wasn't in his best of moods as he ordered me into my red patent leather pumps and bound me into a hogtie. It was similar to the particularly onerous one that I had been in last night and if anything my hair tie was even tighter. That was due to the fact that he had not bound my wrists behind my back and to my ankles, but had attached them to my thighs. This meant that only my hair and the crotch rope nestled between my pussy lips was holding my ankles down until they nearly touched my butt.

That didn't stop him from taking his pictures though. Even blindfolded and gagged I could tell exactly when he was taking pictures of me. Blindfolds especially seemed to make my hearing work harder and even the soft whine of the zoom sounded loud in my ears. `A half an hour and I'll be back, then a ten minute break and onto another position', Greg informed me as he went back to his plotting. So there I lay, on top of the unrelenting wood surface of the coffee table. I could hear the clicking of the computer keys start up in the distance and I wondered how often he would look up from his work to check on me. The way the rooms were set up meant that all he need do was look out the door to his right and there I would be smack dab in the middle of his view. That thought warmed me, but I wished that he had added a little stimulation to my bondage. The crotch rope wasn't as effective as it had been yesterday as my poor pussy was still very tender, so I had to work hard not to saw it into myself by keeping my feet still. That, of course, meant no pussy pleasure! Yuck.

The afternoon passed away in this manner as Greg bound me in one position after another. The rest of the positions weren't as strenuous and I found myself enjoying being helpless and luxuriated in restful bliss in during each of our little sessions.

At about three in the afternoon Greg freed me. I was given time to clean up and refresh myself, which was nice but I did feel a bit stressed that it had gotten so late. So despite being quite hungry, I decided against making a late lunch and instead grabbed a couple of granola bars and a large glass of Poland Springs ice water. Taking my repast to my vanity table I worked valiantly to put my make up back in order. I was ready at quarter to four with a small bag of high heels packed.

We were greeted at the door by a young woman wearing a Leather & Lace version of a maids uniform. I couldn't help but notice that she walked very well in her heels and commented so softly to Greg. He responded with five fingers on one hand and a thumb down below it on the other. Hmmm, now that I knew what to look for I realized he was right. Her heels were probably only about four and a half inches or so. I nearly laughed at that thought… only (!) four and a half inches. It wasn't all that long ago when those were highest heels that I had ever worn and perhaps ever intended to wear!

We were lead down into the basement of Lucinda's large house to a room that had been transformed into a dance studio. The flooring was of a light colored oak and the ceiling was deceptively high due to the diffuse recessed lighting. One entire wall was covered by floor to ceiling mirrors, which I knew to be essential to learning ballet. Lucinda was stretching gracefully at the bar set into the wall and saw us first in the reflection from the mirror.

She stepped off of the bar and turned gracefully. Lucinda wore a plain black leotard, black tights, white leg warmers and gleaming white satin ballet toe shoes. `Ah, so you have arrived', she said evenly and then to her servant, `Kristen you may resume your duties.'

`Yes Mam', she said curtseying before she left the room.

`I see you found a new plaything', Greg said roughly.

Rather than rising to his bait, Lucinda walked over and hugged him. `Yes, dear boy and she is keeping me quite entertained so lets all relax and enjoy the fact that you two young people have joined forces.' Greg visibly relaxed and Lucinda looked over to me and said blithely, `Try to move in on the poor boys step-mother and no one ever forgives you.'

`What?' I stammered in disbelief.

Greg chuckled, `Lucinda took a pass at Dad about 10 years ago. It didn't quite work out the way that she had planned.'

`How was I to know that Cassiopeia could have sunk her claws so deeply into your father in only six short months', she said in her own defense. `And you were even more under her spell than he was!'

This time Greg gave a full bellied laugh, `Well, I wouldn't have called it a spell, but yeah Cassy and I had become pretty tight by the time that I was sixteen.'

`Yes, yes, I've heard the story a hundred times from your step-mother', Lucinda said with a wave of her hand. `How you rode in like a white knight and rescued her all those days that your father left her bound and gagged.'

`Now, now Lucinda', Greg responded warmly, `be nice to mom she was the first one to forgive you!'

`Yes, well that's true enough', she said and then looked over at me. `What's wrong with you girl? You look like the cat just stole your tongue!'

`But… but I thought that you liked… girls', I stammered. Both Greg and Lucinda laughed together and while my face reddened they both seemed to totally relax.

`Look at your boyfriend here', she said putting her hand on Greg's shoulder. `His father is still a good looking man, but at forty he was truly prime! And while I do very much enjoy dallying with women, not girls darling, I do also like men. Powerful and available men are few and far between… so what can I say. I was weak.'

It took me a moment to assimilate everything, but soon it all made sense. I only saw Lucinda as a dominant because that was all that I knew her as, but she had told me that she had started out as a submissive and only a bad experience had switched her onto her new track. So obviously, for the right man, the right dominant man she might be willing to switch back to her original role. Wow.

`It's about time that we got down to business', Lucinda said, so I reached into my bag and began pulling out a pair of my six inch heels. `No, no, no. Over here in my class room first and then later we will see how you do in heels. Remember, I have a pretty good idea from what I saw back at the A frame so I am going to start with the basics first.'

She led us over to a corner of the room which had six of those single seat desks that you see in college class rooms around the world. On the wall in front of us was a large chalk board. My eyes strayed to the padlocked door at the far end of the room and after my recent experiences with this group I was reasonably certain that it led to her own private dungeon.

Snap. The sound of wood on wood made me look down to where Lucinda's pointer had landed on my desk. `Pay attention now or with your Master permission the next time this rod lands it will not be on your desk!'

`Yes, Mam', I gulped as I noticed Greg nodding affirmatively in my peripheral vision.

That is how my training started. Three main things were up on the board, exercises, ballet training and heel training. `What we have to do first is get you to the point that you are fit enough to walk in extremely high heels to do this we will be employing a series of isotonic / isometric exercises. By this I mean a series of gentle movements in which the muscles hold your body in one extended position against the resistance of gravity for a period of five to ten seconds or so, before relaxing and repeating. This is the way to strengthen your muscles and improve their flexibility.' She looked at me and shook her head, ` No, we are not talking about all those aerobics' that you are so fond of, just exercises, that build up gradually, and if it hurts you stop. A series of gentle regular sessions is infinitely more effective than one or two frantic ones. Don't expect miracles. It will probably take from two to three weeks to really make a difference.'

She then went on to explain `heel raises', `tip toe walking' and `calf stretches'. Later I was informed as I began to work in heels, I would be taught `balance' and `half crouches'. But to start I was to be doing those three exercises throughout the day for short periods until I could build up to longer periods. She had me perform each of the exercises, which were relatively simple, until I had them down to her satisfaction. At times she would tell me to hold a position, such as standing bare foot on my tip toes while she pointed out to Greg the muscle groups in my legs and how they should react to the exercise. More than once I felt the crack of her crop like pointer against my buttocks or thighs when I didn't respond quickly enough.

During a calf stretching exercise where I had both hands firmly planted onto the back of a chair, with my front leg flexed at the knee and my rear leg stretched from arch to calf Lucinda graced me with a rather violent crack of her crop. I cried out, but held my pose and Greg made is if to intervene.

Lucinda's calm words stopped him, `Have you ever raised a dog before Greg?' He shook his head no. `Well, there are two methods to do so. The first is to give the dog a reward every time that they do something right. I'm sure that you've heard of it, perhaps labeled as positive reinforcement.' She looked at him as he nodded and then continued. `Then there is the method of swatting the dog on his nose or hind quarters when he doesn't obey swiftly enough or does something wrong. That is known as negative reinforcement.'

She ran the pointer down my perfectly flexed leg, making me shiver and then continued. `Both methods work, but the dog that has been swatted will always respond more quickly then the one that has been rewarded.' Again the rod slid up my leg and over my butt.

`You see how Sharon hasn't made even one error twice?' Greg nodded yes, though it seemed to me reluctantly. `Perhaps you should keep in mind what I've said while you train her.' I didn't very much care for being likened to a dog, but I wasn't about to say anything with that rod hovering so near to my rear. Hmmm, I suppose that she did have a point after all.

After that I was handed a set of clothes similar to the ones that she was wearing and told to go into the locker room to change. It was small, only large enough for six or eight women, but I suppose that smaller hand picked classes would probably suit Lucinda very well. When I emerged I was ordered over to the bar. `I want to see what you remember from your ballet training. Let me see your plie's with your feet in all five positions.' Oh, Lord this was truly torture. Not so much on my muscles as on my memory! How exactly to place my feet? How to crouch gracefully in that position? What to do with my arms, which I knew were supposed to flow gracefully. As I raised myself from my fifth movement Lucinda stood in front of me shaking her head.

Crack. I yelped in surprise as I looked in surprise at Greg who had picked up another springing bamboo pointer and had used it on my nearly naked rear end! `Even I could tell that that was horrible', he said evenly.

`Your quite right Greg', Lucinda agreed, `that was truly horrendous, yet you can tell from her movements that at least she was well trained.' Lucinda paused in thought. `Alright then lets just see what you remember, give me a releve into an on pointe position… if you can manage it.'

I was determined now to do my best and swept my arms above my head as gracefully as a swan raising its wings to fly. Slowly I raised my arches, past the tip toe position of resting on the balls of my feet in demi-pointe, until all my weight rested entirely on my toes. I knew I had made it and this truly amazed me, but that split second of inattentiveness cost me. My ankles began to wobble and I fell back to the floor in a heap.

`I'm sorry', I said brokenly, `I'll try again.'

`No, no not yet', Lucinda said as she opened a chest of drawers and pulled out another pair of slippers. `Here try these on. They maybe a tad tight as I'm a half size smaller than you, but they are pretty well broken in so they will probably fit.'

`Why the slipper switch?' Greg asked.

`Her ankles began a sickling motion which is a term for putting to much weight on the 4th and 5th toes of the foot. The slippers that I use now that I, um a bit past my prime shall we say, are from the makers Gaynor Minden. They are known in the dance world to produce the best alignment which will help offset Sharon's problem.' After I had finished slipping into the new shoes and binding the laces about my ankles, I moved back into position unasked.

`Good', Lucinda said, `lets try that again. And this time concentrate!' With that word she cracked the crop against the desk to remind me of my fate if I should fail.

I looked at Greg's stern face and knew that we were coming to the breaking point. If I couldn't prove to him that I could do what was necessary to win this competition I knew that he would soon lose his desire to pursue the contest regardless of what his parents thought.

Clearing my mind I put myself back into my dance class as a young lady. My breathing slowed and my arms seemed to move of their own accord. My heels rose slowly off the floor, moving through each of the three major arches. With a last smooth flexing of my muscles I stepped onto my toes. My legs were arched like a wish-bone and my arms formed a tulip above me. I continued to breathe evenly letting my body softly lock into position and held my pose. The music in my head, that always seemed to be there when I used to dance, mesmerized me with its strength and beauty. As the music changed pitch I knew it was time and I slowly and gracefully lowered myself back onto the floor.'

I opened my eyes to see Greg clapping and grinning from ear to ear, `That was incredible!' He cried, `Bravo.'

Lucinda had crossed her arms and looked thoughtful. Her bamboo rod hung loosely from her wrist as if forgotten. I took that as a good sign. ‘How long did you study ballet darling?’ She asked softly.

`I'm not sure exactly because I'm not totally sure how early my mother started me, but I didn't stop until my senior year in high school', I replied. I stopped because my mother cared more about me becoming the next prima ballerina to a prestigious dance company and I didn't want anything to with it! It was always her dream not mine, although I had loved the beauty of it all.

`Did you have any significant roles in plays that your studio was involved in?' She asked now looking very interested.

`Yes, I had an understudy role in `Swan Lake' which we performed at the Westchester County Arts Center', I answered a bit embarrassed.

`Let me guess' Lucinda said with a smile, `Odette?'

`Yes', I answered with a tinge of pride in my voice.

`I thought that move of yours was familiar', she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.

`What are you two talking about?' Greg asked.

`Your girl friend used to be a pretty outstanding ballerina in her youth. Odette is the lead female role in the classic ballet Swan Lake and she was the understudy.' She looked again at me. `You refused the lead role didn't you?'

`Yes, how did you know?' I asked perplexed.

`Yet, somehow you managed to dance the role three out of five nights, correct?' She said with a smile.

`Yes, but how could you know?' Now I was truly dumbfounded.

`Do you remember the name Ms. Abbernapthy?' Lucinda continued to question me.

`Yes, she was my ballet instructor Ms. Minerva's friend. I think she helped out with the choreography.' I said and than the light dawned as I looked at her face and saw those same eyes that I had seen years ago in my youth. `You're Mistress Appernapthy!'

`Correct darling and though I can thank my short marriage to Mr. Grant to save me from that name!', she told me haughtily, `At the time I remember seeing all of the potential that you possessed during rehearsals and in my own little way was trying to force you to see it also. You see it was I that had Minerva change the lead. And your supposition at the time that it had to do with your mother's money was totally inaccurate. Such a shame that you and she couldn't reconcile your differences as it was such a waste of talent to lose you.'

`Thank you', I said lowering my eyes.

`So what does this all mean to our chances in the contest?' Greg asked in frustration.

`Ever the practical one, aren't you Gregory?' Lucinda continued in the same tone.

`Yes, Aunty Lucinda, now please answer the question', Greg responded with a chuckle that took the sting out of his words.

`What it means dear boy is that WE still have a lot of work to do, but her vast ballet experience is going to definitely help speed the process', Lucinda said warmly. `In fact I think the good news here is that with a strong dose of negative reinforcement that we will be able to get this young lady on her toes in nearly no time at all!' Great now the two of them were working together, that could only mean that I was really in trouble. `And that dear boy is going to be the genesis of her being able to stand and perhaps even walk in those nine in ballet heels!'

Greg stood up and took Lucinda in his arms and hugged her close. `Thank you Lucinda' he said gratefully and kissed her on the cheek before he stepped back. For the first time ever I saw Lucinda blush and look away.

In a second though her composure was back and she turned on Greg with a dangerous smile that I didn't like as soon as I saw it. `Hmmm, I couldn't have your father… so what about you?' As I went to move in between the two, Greg grabbed Lucinda tightly about the waist and looked down deeply into her eyes with a wolf like glare. `Anytime, anywhere' he rumbled in his deep rich voice, `but don't think that you'll ever have the top role!' To my great surprise Lucinda pushed herself out of his grasp and smoothed out her leotard fastidiously.

`Yes, well we will have to leave that for a later day', she said primly. `I think it is high time that I saw Sharon walk in heels, five inch heels first I think.'

I went back to my bag and retrieved a pair of red pumps which sported a set of cross straps across the top of my foot. Lucinda and Greg followed me and as I slipped into the heels, Lucinda told me to walk in line with the bar. Standing I did as directed and walked the twenty feet to the end of the room and did the fancy quick turn that I had learned from my bondage instructional tapes and walked back.

`Alright, now your six inch heels', Lucinda said as I smiled in victory. Well that took the wind from my sails. Greg had made me take my red patent leather court pumps. They were plain of any decoration and unfortunately didn't even have an ankle strap that might have provided a bit of extra support. I stood up slowly in the heels working hard to keep my ankles from wobbling.

`Alright then proceed', Lucinda called to me.

Everything that felt right when I walked in the five inch heels felt wrong in the sixes. I stepped uncertainly forward and took one hesitating step after another.

`Head up, eyes forward', Lucinda ordered me. I responded immediately as I heard her rod smack hard against wood.

Crack. I cringed at the sound of the rod slamming the desk for a second time. `Your arms are not circus balancing poles! They should be swinging naturally by your side.' I did my best to do as she instructed, but it made me feel as if I was going to fall flat on my face at any second. `Relax and lean back, for God's sake', Lucinda said in total exasperation. I lurched forward until I reached the end of the room and slowly turned for my terrifying walk back. `Stop', Lucinda commanded. `Put out your right hand and grasp the bar lightly. Now, straighten your back and find your center in the heels.' With the bar in my hand I was able to remove the fear of falling for the first time and my body began to respond to her words. `Good, now walk. Your left arm should sway gently.' This time it felt nearly the same as walking in the five inch heels and the tears that had almost overcome me turned to smiles as I reached my two mentors.

`What do you think?' Greg asked in a concerned voice as if he was talking to a doctor about some sort of surgery.

`I think that we have our work cut out for us', she responded calmly. `It's obvious that she hasn't been wearing high spiked heels for long and the only good thing that I can see is how quickly she picked up on the five inch heels. Unfortunately, that is pretty common for most women that have been accustomed to wearing three and four inch heels. What is also common for most women is that they never master anything higher.' Lucinda held up a hand to stop Greg from asking a further question and then continued. `However, most women never had the two of US to train them!' She paused to look me over as I stood there still holding the bar for support. `Yes darling you were absolutely horrible today, but in five or six weeks I promise you that you will be walking like an angel on water in those same heels!'

Greg took both of her hands in his and thanked her. Lucinda wasn't quite done with us yet though. She wanted me back every evening at nine P.M. to work with me further. Before we left she wrote out a list of exercises that she wanted me to do every day for leg, ankle and foot strengthening, below that she added another list of ballet exercises. As we were about to leave she called, `Oh darling, just one last thing. Don't wear high heels every day to work to help sped the process along. All you will achieve is shortening your Achilles tendon which will give you problems which can become serious. Swap your heels around so you wear one, two, three, four and five inch heels on a rotating basis. If you can switch throughout the day even better. Also, in doing the toe walking exercises that I'm having you do, don't just do it at some specific time of the day, it would be better if you just worked it into your routine. Tip toe out to get the paper in the morning, make coffee, or perhaps when you serve dinner. Like I said start with three minutes a day, but as long as you calves aren't hurting work to push it up to at least ten minutes a day. Understood?'

`Yes, Mam' I answered respectfully. `Thank you, Mam.'

`You are such a lovely quick study darling', she told me with a gleam in her eye.

`My name is baby Mam, not darling. My Master named me that', I said with as much force as a good submissive could.

It did the trick and took that hawk like look in her eye, `Very well baby. I will see you tomorrow at 9pm.'

The two weeks in one part seemed to melt away before I even knew they had begun, yet in another way seemed to last forever as my aching muscles strove to get ready for the contest. I met every day with a smile and a positive attitude, but by the end of the evening I was totally bushed and felt a hundred years old!

I was only working half days now, but I tried to fit a whole day of work into it. Mr. Harrison finally stopped me when he realized that I was bringing work home when my main goal should have been getting ready for the contest. Everyone at the office began to look at the two of us differently and we began to take on a weird celebrity like status. However it was their support and good wishes that helped immensely to motivate me again and again to return to my arduous training schedule.

I was up early each morning doing my heel lifts and calf stretching. This was interspersed with Greg's leg lifts and push ups, plus my normal aerobic workout. During breakfast I walked on tip-toe the entire time that I was setting the table, putting out the food and drinks and making the coffee. Even at work I continued my regime, by switching between heel heights from day to day. Back at home for lunch was again on tip-toe. Greg would then bind me in a number of different ways, often leaving me bound standing in my six inch heels for half an hour at a time. When he wasn't tying me up I had to do my ballet exercise for an hour to an hour and a half per day. Dinner saw me free again and let me slide back into my comfortable satin slippers as I tip-toed for minutes at a shot through its preparation. After dinner was thankfully a time for relaxing where Greg and I would talk about our day and our wishes for the future, yet inevitably this devolved into a discussion on contest strategy. Nine pm every evening found us at Lucinda's house where she ran me through a vigorous ballet workout, before working with me in heels.

During that first week Lucinda presented me with a brand new pair of baby blue Gaynor Minden ballet pointe shoes. We had told her about the Alice idea and this was her very unexpected response. I was really touched. Unfortunately that wasn't the only thing that she touched me with! There wasn't an evening that went by in which I did receive a least a half-a-dozen swats with her training rod.

So by the end of the evening, my muscles ached like there was no tomorrow, I was exhausted and there was my Master who still wanted to be sated. Oh, yes, he would take me from time to time during the day, but he seemed to live for a good climax at the start and end of every day! The good news was that because we were both so busy, he settled for a blow job more often than not, which was just fine by me. The crotch ropes that he had me wear nearly constantly while in bondage had rubbed my poor cunny raw and I was happy to give it every rest that I could. Add to that, the fact that he had been practicing breast bondage on me regularly, complete with attendant nipple clamps and I was more than happy to blow him.

Through it all though, despite him treating me like some recruit at boot camp, I came to see that he truly loved me. About ten days into our training he was working late and I went to sleep without him. It was the first time that I had gone to sleep alone since he had moved in and it seemed unnatural. It took me a while to finally fall to sleep and that too is unusual for I normally fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

When I woke Greg wasn't in our bed. Nor was he in the computer room that was rapidly being converted into an office / war room, with computer enhanced pictures posted on the walls showing contestants in different stages of the contest. I was starting to despair when I walked into the kitchen and found an envelope propped up against the vase of flowers. I opened the card, the front of which showed two people holding hands and walking contentedly along the surf ruffled shore.

Dear baby,

Last night when I came to bed I noticed something that I had never noticed before. You were having a bad dream and I reached over to you and gently ran my fingers through your hair as I whispered soothing nothings in your ear. Shortly your agitation turned to soft sounds like the cooing of a contented dove and your body slid unconsciously into the crook of my own.

What I noticed however was how much it pleased me to comfort you. I've comforted others before, yet it always felt like an obligation, with you lying in my arms it felt as natural as the sun coming up in the morning. Comforting you made me feel good as I felt as if I was giving you back some of the multitude of goodness that you never fail to give to me.

It amazes me every time that I stop and remember not to take you for granted, just how much I love you! I suppose it is because that I had nearly given up on my fantasies actually taking form, but in you all has become real.

Always,

Greg

BTW… You are doing great! Hang in there and we are going to turn this contest on its ear!

The tears rolling down my cheeks were like the cleansing rain bringing life and beauty to all the earth. I sniffed at the flowers which were roses from my own mini-garden on my small back deck. He must have gotten up at 5am to pick them as they were still laden with the morning dew. He new how much I loved flowers and this was his way of giving me a gift regardless of our hectic schedules. The tears began to flow again, but I shook them off and reinvigorated by his love for me set back to work.

At the end of those two weeks we were well along the path that we had set out upon to win the contest part of the bondage convention. Greg called me into the computer room and I walked their nearly effortlessly on tie-toe. `Take a look at this' he said pointing at the computer screen. I looked and it took me a minute to realize that the picture in front of me was a view of the lava rock walk part of the contest from last year. A host of women with pained faces were running through the course.

`Ok', I said, `It's the lava walk, but I don't see anything special.'

`Neither did I until I looked at wear all the ladies were invariably looking', he said.

`Where they are looking? Oh, I see what you mean they are all looking down.'

`Right, now look at this shot.' It was a top down shot of the contestants. Then he zoomed on one of the contestants until we could see the placement of her feet.

`The rocks don't cover the entire floor', I cried out in surprise.

`Give the lady a prize', Greg said with a smile. `There seems to be a metal grate used to let the heat from below come up to heat the lava rocks. Look, all of the contestants that know what they are doing are stepping carefully between the rocks so that they don't stumble.' Greg switched photos to one displaying a woman who had fallen and was obviously shrieking in pain. `Don't let them fool you about that stupid hot cup of coffee line in the contest rules, 150 degrees is plenty hot to give you a nasty burn.'

`So I'll do like the ladies and avoid the rocks and stay on the grate as much as possible', I said easily.

`That's exactly right, in this instance', Greg responded evenly. `But what I am getting at is that this would have been a simple beginner's mistake that we would have fallen into because we didn't have the experience of someone that had been through this before.'

`OK, I understand your point, but how do we overcome it?' I asked.

`We have to find someone that will tell us about there experiences in the contest', Greg said calmly.

`I take it that you know someone that's participated in the contest before', I said as I put two and two together.

`Yes. I looked through all of the names of the contestants from last years contest and saw three that I knew from my film days. Two of them wouldn't give me the time of day because they don't want to give any information away, but the third was willing to… talk.' Greg told me, with just a hint of caution in his voice.

`And just why would this third woman want to talk to us?' I wondered aloud.

`Probably because she was a former lover of mine and she still has some unresolved issues', he told me softly. He saw my face flush and knew that I was about to say something, but forestalled me with a look. `It gets worse. When I broke it off with her she stalked me until I had to get a police order to restrain her.'

`Don't tell me this is the woman that Lucinda and your Dad tried to set you up with before me?' I said in total disbelief.

`The one and only. Crazy Chris, I used to call her, short for Christobel.' He informed me with a smile. `You can't blame Lucy and Dad really when I first went out with her I thought that she was perfectly normal. With, of course, the notable exception of the one abnormality that I wanted her to possess. Unfortunately, as time went on she wouldn't let me out of her sight. She started to wear leathers like some biker chick and more than once roughed up a few of the women that came up to me to chat. Heck, I would have told the ladies I was taken myself, but she always had a good excuse why she just had to handle it. After awhile it just became ridiculous.' Greg looked at me. `You know that I don't expect our relationship to be a true 24/7 and it was the same with her. But now I was starting to feel like I was owned, so I said enough is enough and called it quits.'

`And you want us to meet with this insane person to get information about the contest?' I asked slowly.

`Despite the unpleasantness of the idea, if we want a shot at winning I think that we have to do this', he replied in a disgusted voice.

`So when do we meet with her?' I asked in resignation.

`Tonight at 6pm in at a little bar and grill in Greenwich', he said softly.

Looking over at the clock on his computer screen, I winced. It was nearly 5pm now and Greenwich was a fifteen minute drive. `Right then, I suppose that I better get dressed.' Being as I was wearing a baby doll and slippers, which was my unofficial uniform about our home, this seemed like a safe bet.

Thirty minutes later I was looking at myself critically in my full length mirror. I wore my black knee high leather boots with the three inch block heels, wide woven fishnet stockings whose lace tops were just covered by my black leather mini-skirt. The short slit on the side however, would leave no one in doubt that I wore stockings and garters and not panty hose. I left my belly bare to show off the newly tightened muscles of my stomach. No, there was no six-pack as I would never want to be that muscular, but the definition about my waist could not be denied. I wore a leather halter top, which looked like a large inverted V emerging below my neck from the pseudo collar that snapped together at the rear. It showed none of my breasts, yet the way they were cupped in the material made them a predominant part of my anatomy. I had braided much of my long hair into three separate pieces, one on each side and on at the back. Then I looped the two sides to the back, around my head and mated them to their cousin in the rear. It gave me a sort of Valkyrie type look that was just what I wanted. To top my outfit off I slid into a hip length leather jacket that just bristled with buckles and zippers.

I smiled at myself in the mirror and thanked the Gods that be that I was such a pack rat! I hadn't worn most of this stuff since I was in my rebellious teen years, but now I was very glad that I still had it.

I walked back into Greg's home office at twenty to six. Greg looked up from his computer and his jaw dropped open. Then one those classic roguish grins spread across his face. `My, my, my, don't you look just good enough to arrest! And just whom are you supposed to be?'

Slowly I removed my wrap around sunglasses which had been hanging by one arm from the top pocket of my jacket. Flicking them open I slid them on all the while keeping my face stone still. In my own mind the opening chords of Bad to the Bone played in my head.

Greg chuckled good naturedly, `Arnie Schwarzenager best look out. It looks like there is a new marshal in town!' He shook his head and continued to smile. `I suppose that that outfit is intended to send my ex-stalker a message?'

`Exactly', I said, `go ahead and make my day!'

Greg began to laugh so hard that he had to wrap his arms around his sides. He saw my anger rising and forestalled, `I'm not laughing at your outfit only your mixing of movie metaphors. Dirty Harry is the one who says `Go ahead, make my day' not the terminator. Heck, you don't even like those movies and I don't think you had seen them either until I met you!'

`And what choice did I have', I shot back, `when you had me tied to the bed!' I folded my arms over my chest, `besides those movies fit my mood at the moment.'

Greg stood up and put his arm around my shoulders as he led me towards the front door. He stopped at the hall closet and retrieved his own leather jacket. From the pockets he removed and then donned a pair of fingerless black leather driving gloves and slid on a pair of Ray Bans. `Never let it be said that this master can't be managed from the bottom… when she's right! Alright biker Barbie lets go get `em!'

Stepping into his T-roofed Firebird with the throaty roar of its oversized engine seemed perfectly fitting. Greg had been complaining about the car since he had returned home and I could understand his point that it didn't fit the person he had become. However we had been too busy to go car shopping, so it only made sense that he use the car that his father had lovingly cared for all of the years that he was in California. Today though, Greg looked right at home behind the wheel of the car that he had loved so much in high school.

The bar was a little hole-in the wall place. When I was in college we used to call them "townie" bars as it was basically populated by the people that lived in the area and not college kids. The décor was rustic with heavy dark wood hand hewn beams and mahogany booths. The bar top was a shining sheet of copper that looked as if it had been polished recently. The place fit its name of the Lock, Stock and Barrel.

Greg whispered to me, `there she is' and turned towards the window booth in which she was sitting. No, sitting isn't the right word to describe her posture; she was lounging in the booth as if she owned the place. One booted foot was up on the bench seat showing off her shapely leg and even, I noticed hotly, a bit of her panties beneath her micro mini.

Her outfit was as garish as mine was dark. Red patent leather boots, white thigh length stockings, her red skirt that couldn't be more then twelve inches long, a white patent leather bikini style top, lightly covered by her open leather jacket that matched her boots and skirt. Her flaming red mane flowed down about her shoulder in a host of spiraling curls that seemed out of place with her outfit. The one thing that I couldn't fault was her body. Good Lord, even seated I could tell that she was inches taller than me and all of her curves appeared to have been carved from a sandy colored Italian marble in exactingly perfect proportions.

`Hello Chris, long time', said Greg evenly as he slid into the booths bench opposite her. I followed his led and sat down besides him.

`Aren't you forcing me to break the law by being within one hundred feet of me?' She asked with a wicked smile.

`Let's put old issues behind us', Greg responded, `besides that injunction ran out nearly two years back.'

`Of course, now that you need something from me I'm sure that you would like just that', she hissed like a snake. `You want to know all about the events in the bondage contest and little `ol Christobel is the only person that will give you any information'. She said in a mock child like voice then she switched into a sexy throaty tone as she leaned over the table and put her face only inches from Greg's. `Like in the first event, the beauty pageant, when your wrists are bound to your collar and you are totally helpless in your too high heels. Do you know what the proctor loves to do to the new meat, lover?'

I bristled but said nothing as I could see that she was getting no reaction at all from my man. Greg shook his head slowly no.

`Why he takes a paddle to your bottom is what he does', she said in an oily voice that would have made Lucinda cringe. `Yes, I can see by your eyes that you think you already knew that, but did you know that he swings upward from near the floor like a baseball player trying for a home run? No, I didn't think so. And if you aren't ready for it, it will knock you entirely out of your heels and off of your feet. Which just happens to be cause for an automatic elimination' she said in her soft viper-like voice.

`Hmmm, good information', Greg said as she oozed back down into her seat.

`Not so fast lover', she said with a slimy smile. `I'm perfectly willing to tell you everything that I know, but I want something in return.'

I went to jump up and tell her where to get off as I was sure that I knew what she wanted, but Greg's strong hand clamped down on my shoulder and held me in place. Her fevered eyes never left his as if I didn't exist at all.

`Sorry, Chris-to-bell', Greg said drawing out her full name, `you can't have me.'

`Oh, it's not you I want lover', she said with a wicked grin. `It's her!' She nearly yelled as she pointed her finger at my face. `Her and me, outside in the back. If she wins I tell you what I want to know, if I win I tell you nothing… and I had the pleasure of beating up your new little play thing!'

`This conversation is over', Greg said nearly spitting as his anger began to pass it limits. `Baby move'.

I got out of the booth and stood there uncertainly as he slid out and stood next to me. Christobel stood up in front of me, showing off her height, and ran a finger down one of my cheeks and up the other. `You call her baby, how very appropriate.'

I batted her hand away and my resolution formed within my core as that terminator theme burned in my ears. `Yes, I am his baby, but I'm your doom!' Even in my own ears it sounded weak, but this… this vixen, wasn't going to get the better of me. Besides what she knew could give us the edge that we needed to win.

Greg made to move in between the two of us, but was stopped as two huge bouncers grabbed his arms. `The lady said it's her fight let's just leave it between them.' I realized now that his ex-lover must have orchestrated this whole thing but that didn't help as I watched Greg struggle futilely in the grip of those two brutes. Then speaking in a calm voice that I didn't really feel I smiled at him and said, `Greg relax', then turning to her, `she's mine.'

She went to dive at me but was held back by another bouncer who said, `Well take this outside ladies. I don't want all of my furniture busted up.'

Greg and Cristobel were escorted by the bars bouncers out the back door, while I walked along calmly. I can't say why I felt as confident as I did because I had never been in a real fight in my life and the one semester self-defense course that I had taken in college wasn't geared to prepare me for this brawl. Yet, my mind seemed to be working in overdrive and everything seemed perfectly clear.

It was if I had more time to think everything through, as if time had somehow slowed for me. I was glad to see that Greg was no longer struggling between the two bouncers. His face was worried and his fists were clenched in rage, but at least he believed in me enough to stop wasting his time trying to fight off those two guys which were each half again his weight.

The head bouncer, who I heard someone of the maybe fifteen or so people who had followed us to the back lot say, was named Arty. Arty let go of my opponent and pushed her behind him so that he stood between the two of us.

He looked at me and said, `Chris here', he jerked his thumb pointing over his shoulder at her `obviously wanted this fight and she's a real tom cat that knows how to handle her self. You, on the other hand, don't look like you could fight your way out of a paper bag, so if you don't what to fight her you and your boyfriend should just walk away now.'

The easy out was on the table. How could I not take it? I thought about Greg, the last few months at L&L and the contest and this brought a smile to my face. Heck, when did I ever take the easy route?

`Thank you for the offer, but I'll fight her', I said confidently as the crowd formed into a circle around us `because she has something that I need. Besides, perhaps I'll surprise you.'

Arty nodded his head, `It's your funeral sweetheart.' He turned sideways so he could now see both of us, `When one of you is down and can't get up under your own power the fight is over.' Stepping back he smiled lazily, `Have fun ladies.'

We started to circle each other about the ring of on lookers. Some of them were calling out to Chris, their local favorite, to take me out, but others were cheering me on. The smile was still on my face as with my mind in overdrive I couldn't help but think how much this resembled any number of bad movies. The pretty heroine locked in a fight that she can't win with the sultry nut case, who's only intention is to hurt her old boyfriend. Heck, I had even dressed for the part!

As I continued to keep my distance I slipped out of my leather jacket and tossed it to Arty. He caught it deftly. `Thanks, I didn't want to mess up my coat.'

`It isn't you coat that I was aiming to mess up missy', Chris nearly spit at me. She took off her own coat and threw it to Arty in a theatrical move that was undoubtedly supposed to have gotten my attention, because just at that moment she charged.

I had been dancing about on the balls of my feet, just as I had been for the last two weeks during my ballet practice. Four quick mincing steps to the right and I was out of her path. As her grasping arms reached for me I simply slid my arm up inside of her and then as a swan opening its wings brushed her nearest arm away. He head long charge was only stopped by the crowd that rebounded and pushed her back into the circle. I danced over to where she had started and slid effortlessly into a resting position. It was one that Lucinda had forced me into repeatedly so that I would always be ready for her next command, no matter which way that she wanted me to jump. My left foot was forward pointed slightly to the left of Christobel and my right was a half step behind at right angle to my body. With my knees slightly bent I was perfectly centered, however to anyone not trained in dance it might seem other wise.

`My name is baby not missy', I said easily as my smile never faltered. `And you can call me that when you tell me everything that I want to know… Chrissy.'

That little barb at the end of my sentence had the desired effect and made her crazy. Where a few seconds before she had been dangerously advancing on me like a knife fighter, now for the second time she barreled at me. Her teeth were barred like an angry dog as she charged, but her foot work was sloppy as she had to compensate for the instability of her thin heels. Even as I danced beyond her grasp I noticed those narrow heels and recognized them as a chink in her armor.

Planting my right foot, my arms rose above my head like a flower and I bent my body nearly horizontal totally evading her rushing grab. As she fought to stop her forward momentum and turn towards me, my left leg slid between her legs and unwound in a graceful circle. The effect was everything I could have hoped for as my heavy heel came in contact with both of her ankles, causing her to wobble in those ungainly heels. In long drawn out seconds, I watched as she lost her balance fall sprawling onto the hard macadam.

The crowd gasped as she rolled to a stop, probably unsure of what to make out of their favorite bruiser getting picked apart by… what had Greg called me… that's right biker Barbie. My smile hardened at that last thought as I watched her slowly get to her feet. The rough tar had done a job on her and her white stocking were torn at the knees, both of which were bleeding from cuts and scrapes. Her hands also showed signs of abuse as she shook herself and brushed herself off.

`You're going to pay for that girlie', she sneered as she began to move at me much more cautiously.

I began lightly sliding from side to side, but her footwork this time was much steadier and I found myself running out of maneuvering room. `Oh no, did the big huge Chrissy get all bloodied up by the little iddy biddy baby.' I goaded her, but this time she didn't buy it. Slowly like a force of nature that muscle bound freak advanced upon me. For the first time my smile cracked.

She was fast very fast, she faked with her left which I batted aside but her true goal was to put her right fist in my nose. Arching my body backwards and to the side I caused her to miss her objective, but I didn't get away entirely unscathed. Her knuckles missed, but her clenched fist caught me in the corner of my mouth snapping back my head and causing me to lose my center. Chris' left knee followed up on the opening slamming into my thigh. I staggered for a second, but regained my balance quickly as she swept past me in a blaze of red and white.

The crowd exploded in noise as cheers and cat calls rained down upon the two of us. They pushed closer wanting to see one of us finished off and in the process made it easier for her as they made the circle smaller. I had speed on my side but without the room to use it I was definitely in trouble.

There was only one thing left to do and the idea came to me from another of those silly movies that Greg would force me to watch while I was helplessly bound and gagged. I acted like the hit to my right leg had done much more damage than it had, panting and favoring it as I held the left side of my body to my attacker. Christobel smiled as I dabbed at the blood on my lip. `Three years of bar fighting' she said with a sneer and moved in for the kill.

Again she moved in cautiously, but the feral grin on her face told the tale that she was sure that this fight was nearly finished and that her earlier troubles were all in the past. Flexing my knees in what looked like pain I actually braced myself and watched her like a hawk. As her right boot lifted from the floor I sprang forward to the attack. It was the first time that I had even hinted that I might do so and the shock showed in her face. A quick leap and a graceful twist of the hip brought my seemingly damaged right leg up in a blazing arch that ended with the top of my foot slamming into her crotch. The kick had all of my aerobically trained muscles strength in it and it literally lifted her off her feet as her eyes bugged out and she flew backwards.

`Aaaaoooooooowwwwww', she cried in a high pitched voice as she hit the ground. She immediately went into a fetal position as her hands went to her crotch and she panted in an effort to retrieve the air that had been blown from her lungs. The one thing that self defense course had taught me was that kicking a woman in the groin is nearly as incapacitating as kicking a man there and now I could see that it was true.

Chris rolled around on the ground moaning and I walked over to her. Arty, moved to stop me, but I guess that the other two bouncers had let Greg go, because all of a sudden he was right there in his face and looking really pissed. `This is between the ladies, remember', he said in a dangerous voice.

The crowd was completely quiet as I continued over to her. Using my boot I forced her over onto her back and than planted it on her chest.

`How?' she asked in a rasping voice.

`Twelve years of ballet will beat your three years of bar brawls every time', I replied with a smile. She squirmed like a bug pinned to a board for study as I asked her, `Are you ready to tell me what I want to know now?'

`Yeeeesss, Yes, I'll tell you', Christobel hissed through her pain.

`Yes, I'll tell you who?' I said nastily as I dug my heel into her large breast.

`Yes, I'll tell you… baby', she responded in resignation.

`Very good', I said as I took my foot off of her chest and walked over to Arty. I took my jacket from his lifeless hands as he stared at me in confusion. `Thanks Arty, you can go, we won't be needing you any more.'

Arty just shook his head and dropped Christobel's jacket on the ground next to her and began to walk away. The crowd muttered as they followed him inside and I watched a lot of cash changing hands.

Greg watched them all go in and then pulled up a couple of milk crates for each of us to sit on. Over the course of the next hour Christobel told us everything that she knew about the contest as she nursed her abused pussy back to health. Greg was right, there were a number of things that we needed to know that we hadn't before and now I felt confident that we were truly on the path to winning.

We blew off Lucinda that evening, who wasn't very happy with us at all, but Greg was adamant. He kept looking at me with a funny curious kind of gaze yet said nothing.

At home he treated my cut and helped me out of my clothes. He led me, hand and hand, to the shower. The water was warm and inviting as it cascaded over my aching body. Lather soon wrapped between my legs and up over my breasts as his questing hands ran two ultra soft natural sponges softly across my tender skin. He paid particular attention to my right thigh which already showed the beginnings of a nasty black and blue mark.

Bending his lips met mine and it was as if he kissed me for the first time. A long deep loving kiss that made my toes curl and reminded me how lucky I was to have found this man. `You were wonderful tonight', he whispered in my ear as he held me tightly.

`Thank you', I said simply, yet I knew the pride in my voice could not be hidden. `And thank you for trusting me.'

He gave a short laugh and responded, `After tonight, I think that I'm going to have to trust you instincts about a lot of things.'

Sliding out of the shower he handed me a towel which I promptly wrapped about my hair. I waited for the second towel that he was always ready to hand me and all I found were his outstretched arms. Smiling, I went to him and he picked me up easily and took me back to our bed. There were no orders to get dressed or put on slippers, which I would have been more than happy to do, but as his lips explored my body I knew that tonight was different. It was a celebration of my victory and our commitment to each other and the team that we had created.

The love making was slow and beautiful. There were not the ravaging wild orgasms that I had come to love, but they were incredible in there own right. Slowly they would come upon me as the warm glow filled my essence longer than ever until the glorious explosions gently rocked my soul. I felt like a winter's eve fire crackling upon the hearth slowly being fed a small piece of wood at a time that would sometimes pop loudly as air trapped within broke free. As the embers of our love cooled and sleep came upon us, Greg rolled over and wrapped his body around me, spooning my form. His arm lay comfortably over my shoulder as his tired hand rested possessively upon my breast.

When he had first moved in he had made it clear that he didn't like being touched or touching someone while he slept. He said that he had been this way all his life not even letting his cats or dogs sleep on his bed. I didn't fight this, but I did make my disappointment clear in my looks and actions. Slowly, over the course of the last few weeks, things began to change. His foot would ride up under my satin slipper and stay there as we went to sleep. His hand would rest softly on my rear or his shoulder would push up against my back. One day, I even got as bold as to loop my arm over him as he fell asleep. Tonight it all came together as I learned that a loving dominant could definitely be swayed by his bottom. I smiled like the proverbial Cheshire cat as my dreams of happiness became real.

The next morning at work, Lucinda, Greg and I sat with Leather and Lace's head seamstress to discuss the two special outfits that we needed to be made. Andrea was her name and she was happy to see me and very interested in finding out how I liked the corset that she had made for me. I told her that I loved it and that someone, I put my hand on Greg, was seeing that it received plenty of use! `And that is just the way it ought to be', she said smiling broadly.

Our discussion started with the femme fatale leather corset. This was to be a pointed Victorian under the bust design. I showed her my drawing where my breasts were bound to bursting like balloons above the short front bust of the leather garment. An arched point rested between my bursting breasts, below which I had drawn a row of chrome buckles and straps ending in a rounded tabard over my pubis. The thighs were cut high and the eight garters stretched tightly down my legs till they snagged the fishnet stockings.

This was pretty straight forward as far as Andrea was concerned. The Alice dress on the other hand became a topic for hot discussion. My drawing had presented a bodice with a corset similar to the femme fatale and Lucinda and even Andrea were against this. Greg listened thoughtfully as the two swapped ideas and I retreated from the conversation half-listening as I idly sketched the costume.

The next thing I knew Lucinda's ever present rod slammed down on the picture before me. `That's it', she cried. `That is exactly what I had in mind!'

I looked down at my own drawing and saw that I had changed the front apron to only cover the front of my puffy blue satin skirt, while the bodice had been turned into a sexy serving wench's outfit complete with criss-crossing blue laces that ended in bow directly below the cleavage of my breasts. The straps still surrounded and pushed at my breasts, but there new coverings were of white ruffled lace, matching my petticoat and panties. Greg started to protest that the outfit was much too sexy and didn't project the helpless innocent that was his intent. Lucinda countered that no one would believe that anyone entering this contest was innocent and that it was best to make the outfit sexier.

`How about this', I asked pointing to my latest additions to the picture. In my golden locks I had placed a delicate blue bow and on the front tops of both of the white stockings I also placed blue bows. `The sexy innocent!' I proclaimed excitedly.

`Add your legs and the baby blue ballet toe shoes', Greg told me as he looked over thoughtfully. Everyone waited while I added my legs and slippers arched gracefully into an en pointe position. He shook his head in affirmation, `Ladies I think that is it. Any objections?' There were none and Andrea took me aside to have one of her ladies take my measurements.

That evening at Lucinda's studio she started to have me work with my nine inch ballet heels. I had still not mastered the six inch heels entirely, but had cleared the `beginner level' as she put it and was firmly working in on intermediate tasks.

The advent of the ballet heels brought me right back to the beginner setup. I was buckling myself into my heels in a chair that was placed directly between two sets of bar rails set just above waist height and about two feet apart. Finishing, I grasped the bar and prepared to lift myself onto my heels.

`You've been standing on pointe now for sometime and you might think that the two are similar, and while that is true in a small way, if you try and treat those heels like pointe shoes you will never succeed. They have heels and no matter how spindly they are you can not discount them. Now slide your feet together and a bit forward so that they will be centered directly below where you expect to stand. Good', she said as I complied, `use your legs as well as your arms to lift yourself off of the chair and carefully balance your weight as you stand.' The pressure on my toes increased as my weight shifted and slowly I rose making constant corrections until I was standing.

`Not bad', Lucinda grunted, `not bad at all.' She said this grudgingly yet I could hear a tinge of pride in her voice that thrilled me to no end. `Notice how you knees still have a slight bend to them. When you try to walk in ballet heels you have to keep that slight bend, because the heels are just too high to allow for a perfectly straight posture. When you are standing still however, you must find you center and lock your legs, with your knees straight. Regardless we will work on that later.' For the next fifteen minutes I slowly worked my way up the rails and down them. Four long circuits that seemed to take forever, capped by the difficulty of turning at the end of each. I slid into my head and let time sift around me as I concentrated entirely upon just walking. Only twice did I feel the wrath of Lucinda's rod crack upon my overworked thigh muscles. This made me drop out of my near trance for a few seconds at a time, but I had learned to slide back in quickly. At the very end, with my legs shaking in exhaustion, she ordered me to let go of the bars. Ever so gently I put more and more weight on my heels and toes as I raised my hands up off the rails. I turned to her and smiled as I stood there with both hands balanced an inch above their respective bars.

`Very good baby', she told me, `but don't get too cocky we still have a long way to go.' I responded with a demur `yes, mam' as Greg gave an uncharacteristic applause for our efforts. He thanked Lucinda repeatedly as we left that evening and his good mood continued into the remainder of the night.

Over the next few weeks our bondage practice turned into a nearly choreographed work of art. I found myself rolling into his ropes and bending my body in just the right ways to make his job seem effortless. Even the change ups that he would initiate as an ongoing part of my training began to flow as smooth as silk. He told me that no bondage was exactly the same twice despite all of his best efforts to make it so and that we had to be ready to improvise. For me, I was just happy to be in his ropes and strove only to please my loving Master.

My daily ballet training firmed my leg muscles, as did the push ups and pull ups that Greg forced upon me worked on my arms. My stomach tightened and hardened through my leg lift and pilate videos. I watched as I became a lean mean bondage machine, as Greg would joke, yet always stopped when my muscles became too predominant. The muscle builder look that Christobel had displayed was exactly the opposite of the look we were trying to achieve and I was fortunate that my aerobic training had put me well on the way to success.

During week four Lucinda taught me to run in my six inch heels. Alright running is an exaggeration, but walking very quickly didn't quite describe it either. One of the things that Christobel had told us about the contest was that it was best to face the gauntlet in heels. She speculated that very few contestants were probably going to risk it this year as heel height had been raised to a full six inches. However, if you could manage the heels and move quickly in them the contestants forming the gauntlet would be limited to canes and bladed whips, which were unlikely to knock you down. On the other hand the circus slippers, as she called them, meant that your legs were bound with only ten inches of slack and the ladies could request paddles to smack your bottom and thighs. I had to agree with her that that would be much more painful and that the paddles had more potential to truly hurt me and knock me off my feet.

As my heel training progressed the decision was made to go with them in the gauntlet. Lucinda was all too happy to chase me down an imaginary line whipping at my legs and buttocks while I negotiated the tricky heels. When she grew tired Greg would take her place and the only one that didn't rest for the whole twenty minute period was me! On the other hand I had won a few small battles getting them both to agree to let me wear my six inch red patent leather sandals during this event. The extra support from the ankle strap made them much easier to control, which made it possible for me to avoid their lash strokes every once and awhile.

As the days ground down until the bondage convention Greg and even Lucinda found less and less mistakes to call me on. I could now maintain a standing on pointe position for three full minutes, walk albeit slowly in my ballet heels and slide into nearly any bondage position in less than five minutes flat.

The final fittings for my outfits were completed and the next day they were in our hands. They both looked absolutely perfect and the blue satin of the dress had been dyed to a perfect match of my ballet slippers. The only thing that we hadn't anticipated was the impact that a crotch rope would have on the petticoat. Greg fumed at his stupidity for not anticipating the problem, but Andrea came to the rescue and in mere hours had redesigned the garment to allow for a rope to be threaded through it.

During the final week we held two dress rehearsals in Lucinda's basement. She had cancelled all of her classes for the week leaving us virtually alone to practice for the competition. Even to the extent of having rocks littered over part of the floor in an attempt to mock up the lava rock event. Greg and I were there more often then we were home, eating and often sleeping there as we continued to improve our repertoire. Kristen fluttered about us as if she was a true maid, passing me towels to wipe off my sweat or bottles of water to refresh slake my thirst.

After our last run through on Saturday morning as we were packing to leave Lucinda walked up to Greg with a finely grained oak box wrapped with a blue ribbon. `This is for you' she told him without ceremony. He removed the ribbon and opened the box to find Lucinda's favorite crop like rod. `I can't take this…' Greg began, but she shushed him and told him that `of course you can. Besides she responds to its call so well that I want you to have it.' She wrapped one arm around each of us and drew us close. `You are both ready now. So go out there tomorrow and make me proud!'

Chapter 20 – The Contest

By The White Knight

I could barely believe that it was real as we walked into the Jacob Javits center in New York. The huge conference center was decked out like a Louisiana nightclub during Marti Gra, with feathered boas and string beads dangling from the metal rafters. Posters spotted the walls depicting the 2004 Bondage Convention and Contest and all of the thirty previous conventions. Pictures of premier bondage models that had found their first big break at these conventions were perched on pedestals about the lobby complete with their biographies and a concise listing of their most famous works. To me it was beautifully exciting, but at the same time had that surreal feeling that somehow I didn't belong here.

A large sign guided all contestants to the 4th Floor Terrace Room AB for their formal sign in. I wrapped my arm around Greg's and held him close to me. After all of my fighting, conniving and training to get here I could not understand why all of a sudden I felt scared. Holding on tightly to my man's arm seemed to pass some of his steely confidence down into my quivering innards. My stomach flip-flopped as we walked into the Terrace. The large oblong room was milling with other contestants and their masters and now I really felt out of place.

Greg and I were wearing comfortable Town and Country like clothing. For me this meant a soft print sundress and low-heeled sandals, while Greg sported a camel colored blazer and dark slacks. I had felt perfectly in place as we had walked through the lobby of the Dumont Plaza among the patrons of that well-heeled establishment, but this was totally the opposite.

Women with piercings and boob jobs that could only have been created by Doctor Lovelace walked about in costumes that were put together more to show off their bodies then clothe them. Leather and spandex seemed to be everywhere, yet as long as the outfit was skimpy the material didn't seem to matter. In just the first few minutes I counted nearly half-a-dozen women that I was ninety-nine percent certain wore no underwear what so ever. The men were as garish is their mates, many wearing dark leather biker type clothing and sporting numerous tattoos on most of the flesh that was left showing.

While my mind whirled Greg guided me over to the entrants sign up booth and left me in line as someone he knew caught his eye. It was almost a shock when his arm left mine and I bit my lip and strained to keep sight of him as he walked across the crowed room. I could barely see him as I was jolted from my thoughts by a woman's voice behind me.

`You best move forward honey', the voice said in a nasally southern accent, `I think the natives behind us are restless.'

Realizing that I hadn't moved forward with the line, I closed the gap quickly and then looked back, with a bit of trepidation to see who was talking to me. What I saw shocked and at the same time pleased me. The lady was smiling brightly at me and just like her voice she sported a very down to earth outfit of a button down silk shirt and form fitting light blue pants that nearly covered her natural leather thong sandals. I took her to be about five years older than myself, with just a hint of well-hidden crow's feet at the corner of her eyes giving lie to her youngish face. Her curly brunette locks framed her angular features giving them a softer look than they might have had with a more stern cut.

She held out her hand and added, `Hi, I'm Karen Moraine and since that young man that left your side was undoubtedly Greg Stanton that would make you Sharon Glasser, correct?'

`Why, yes, but how did you know?' I replied aghast.

`Its simple honey', she said in her soft drawl as she took my arm to turn me around and keep us both moving with the line. `My hubby, who is the gentlemen that Greg took off after, is an old friend of your boyfriend. They knew each other back in their boyhood days and have kept in touch ever since.' She gave me a long warm smile and continued, `I was beginning to despair for the boy that he was never going to find his Aphrodite, but then all of a sudden his e-mails started talking about this wonderfully fresh young lady that had sent his heart all a flutter.' I blushed and looked away, but I couldn't help but be happy that Greg had told some of his oldest friends about our relationship. `From his description you must be Sharon, as I truly doubt that there is another girl-next-door innocent looking goddess about this crazy place.' I blushed even deeper and felt tears of happiness in the corners of my eyes. `Yes, that is a direct quote', she said as if in answer to the question that she knew that I wanted to ask. `Now the last I heard you two were living together, but then we both seemed to lose touch, so how is it going?'

`It's better than my wildest dreams' I gushed. `He is a wonderful friend, an incredible lover and the most perfect…'

I stopped talking in mid-stream as I realized what I was about to say, but Karen filled the gap for me. `… and the most perfect Master?' she said with a knowing smile.

`Yes', I answered relieved. `It's funny but it still takes some getting used to, to admit that I am someone's slave… even here in a place where I suppose all of use are someone or others slave.'

`Don't you fret darling', she said easily, `you'll get used to it. Heck, I've been my Tom's slave for nearly thirteen years. That's not to say that he wasn't tying me up and such well before that, but he didn't spring the whole package on me until after we were married.' I guess I looked a bit shocked because she carried on her explanation. `You have to understand darlin' that that was a different era and what we were doing at the time was barely on the fringe of normality. It isn't like today where anything goes between two consenting adults.'

`But you don't even look thirty…' I said in exasperation as numbers started to come together in my mind and I realized that she must be at least in her mid-thirties.

`Thank God for modern medicine and my ten year anniversary present! A tummy tuck removed all evidence of the kids and the breast implants added two full cup sizes! I must admit that I'm a bit hung up about my looks and my dear Master was more than happy to grant my request.'

`But your face..'

`Good genes, darlin', good genes' then in a lower voice `and of course the proper use of makeup. That Revlon Age Defying foundation is a life saver!' She gave me a long look from toes to hair and than back again. `Enough about me now, what's been happening with you? I thought that Greg painted you out to be new to this world and yet here you are obviously ready to participate in our little contest.'

`Oh, I'm about as new as new can get and that's the truth. Greg and I were only going out for about a month before we moved in together and shortly after that I convinced him that we should enter the contest as Leather and Laces representatives. I've just finished a grueling six weeks of what I can only call bondage boot camp to get to the point where I am pretty sure that I won't embarrass him.'

`Six weeks…' now it was her turn to look at me aghast. `Honey, you must be something else if Greg thinks highly enough of you to bring you here after only six weeks of training. Heck, Tom and I have been practicing on and off for the last six months, although that was mostly because we missed last year. The kids all had the flu you see and we just couldn't leave them.' She shook her head a bit as if throwing off some concern. `Wow… six weeks. OK, so what part of your training did you find the most difficult?'

`Stiletto heels', I replied without even thinking, `especially six inch pumps! Do you know how hard it is to walk properly in them?'

Karen threw back her head and gave a deep belly laugh, `Darlin' my Tom's first fetish gift to me was a pair of heels nearly that high… hmm, I think I was nineteen at the time. So you might say that I have just a bit of experience wearing stiletto pumps!'

I laughed with her and then it was my turn to fill in the form that would admit me as a contestant into the bondage contest. At first I stared at the paper blankly as the enormity of what I was about to do hit me. I was going to be putting myself completely at others mercy throughout this whole ordeal, in front of thousands and thousands of strangers. Shaking my head to clear it, I filled in the form by rote until I reached the last page. It was a disclaimer sheet absolving both the convention center and the promoters of any liability if I received any injuries from the competition. I bit my lip and signed at the X as my mind asked over and over again if I really knew what I was doing.

Karen was next and she went through the process quickly. She smiled at me as she took my arm and steered me over to where our men were talking. Now that my eyes were open a bit, I could see that there were a few other couples clothed in a more normal fashion, but the ornate costumes of the many had caused me to pass them over. Tom was dressed similar to Greg, though his blazer was of a darker color with patches on the elbows. He was rather lean, though his turtleneck shirt couldn't hide the small paunch that was forming at his middle.

`Karen, great to see you', Greg beamed as he hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. `I see you met Sharon', he said as he took my hand in his. `Tom, I would like you to meet Sharon Glasser my lover, also know as baby my most perfect submissive.'

`It's nice to finally meet you Sharon although Greg's description hardly did you justice', Tom said as he took my right hand in his and bent over to kiss it like some courtier of old.

Karen started to cough behind me, `Oh my Lord I think that I'm going to be taken ill. I think it's that ripe smell of manure in the air that's affecting me so.' Greg laughed first and I couldn't help but follow.

`That will be enough of that red', Tom said in a mock harsh voice.

`Why, yes of course it is Master', she said diffidently as she waved her hand like a fan in front of her nose. `You have to watch out for my Tom, he'll charm the pants off of you if you let him.'

`I'm outraged', Tom retorted with a smile on his face that said otherwise. `And just which event in the past dozen plus years of marriage would ever cause you to doubt my absolute fidelity!'

`Oh, honey, I have no doubt in my mind that you'll leave with the girl you bought, but those eyes of yours are a whole `nother story!'

His pained look left his face in a heartbeat as he turned to Greg and spoke as if nothing unusual had passed between them, `You know red does have a point there.'

Greg laughed and clapped his friend on the back. I turned to Karen, looked at her shapely brunette hair, and asked, `Red?'

`When I was younger I used to die my hair auburn. Unfortunately, sometimes it turned out a bit more red than I had anticipated… so my lord and Master decided that red was an appropriate slave name for me.' She shrugged her shoulders in acceptance.

`A bit more red', Tom said loudly, `Ronald McDonald would have been proud to wear you hair color a few of those times!'

Greg began laughing again and Karen folded her arms and frowned. `Now, now you too be nice', Greg said easily. `Sharon I've never met two people more perfect for each other and despite their banter they love each other as if there isn't another person in the world that could make either of them happy.' He clapped Tom on one shoulder, `Now enough of all this, lets finish up the introductions so that we can all have a nice dinner before we have to face the competition tomorrow.'

`I do have one more question', I said earnestly, `how did you and Tom ever met? I mean Karen said you were childhood friends, but you're not exactly the same age?'

Greg laughed and shook his head. `You have to understand that Tom was like the Fonz in our town. No, he didn't wear a leather jacket or ride a motorcycle, but everyone knew Tom. He was also the resident DJ at a local Dinner that his genius turned into the coolest place in town. New songs, old songs, it didn't matter Tom knew it and if he didn't have it he knew where to get it. Heck, even though he was gone by the time I hit my teens his legend lived on. So when I got into making bondage movies I called on Tom.'

`You see Sharon, Tom here is a musical genius. Every movie that I have ever made he has been the one to put in the background music and let me tell you the way that he does it makes the action three times as good as when I shot it.' He looked away from his friend and back to me, `I'm sure that you remember how I used `Bad to the Bone' in one of our sessions…' I blushed bright red as I nodded my head while I remembered him whipping my cunt till I came in time with that rocking tune. `…Well that song was one of Tom's best additions and helped me build my very considerable portfolio.'

Tom took a bow and pretended to wave to his adoring fans as he said, `Thank you, thank you very much.' He laughed at this own poor imitation of Elvis and continued, `enough about that, what are you doing now that your out of the industry.'

`You know how my dad has always been after me to get into the family business?' Greg asked and both Tom and Karen nodded yes. `Well, he finally found a way to make the offer irresistible.'

`My God', Tom said aghast. `How did he do that? You were always so adamant that you wouldn't just be handed the keys to the kingdom and that you were going to make it on your own.'

`Two things happened to make me change my mind', he said easily. `First off, Dad joined his company to Leather and Lace in all but name only as he made a deal to be their supplier of choice. That allowed me to accept a job at Leather and Lace so that I could learn the business and at the same time offer my own expertise to help advance its interests.' He put his arm around me and hugged me close. `But it was the second thing that sold me hook line and sinker.'

`Sharon' Tom said to me, `don't tell me that you had something to do with this.'

Still blushing I smiled at Greg and replied, I guess I did have a small part to play in this drama. You see I started working at L&L about four months before I met Greg's father. `During some discussions with both Mr. Stanton and Mr. Thatcher I made it known that I didn't have a boyfriend at the time and they were kind enough to set up a blind date with Greg for me.'

`If that isn't the most vanilla version that I have ever heard of our meeting, I don't know what is', Greg said with a laugh. `What baby neglected to tell you was that those discussions happened with my father and Mike Thatcher while she was being used as a newbie bondage model to settle a bet between the two!' I was turning three shades of red, but Karen and Tom didn't seem at all shocked as they smiled at Greg's story. `Also, when she said blind date she wasn't kidding. Dad knew that he had really blown it the last time he had tried to set me up…'

`Oh, yeah, the stalker girlfriend', Tom said knowingly.

`Right, so Dad had Sharon blindfolded and bound when I met her.' He shook his head before he went on. `I was all set to turn down anyone that my father was trying to fob off on me but… well, to make a long story short… that's what made the job offer totally irresistible.' My face was red but I was smiling all the same as I basked in his warm hug.

Karen slid her arm into the crook of mine and pried me away from my man. `Now that the formalities are out of the way, us girls have a lot to talk about, so why don't you boys find us somewhere nice to eat.' She waggled one finger at the two men before she continued, `Nothing heavy though or we are not going to be able to fit into our corsets tomorrow!'

The rest of the evening seemed to pass in the blink of an eye as Karen and Tom proved to be wonderful conversationalists. Karen was true to her word and we talked quite a bit about being a submissive in a relationship. She started to open my eyes up to things that the little old lady at the hardware store had started me thinking about, but there simply wasn't enough time to explore all of the avenues that appeared. What mattered to me the most was that they were another couple like Greg's dad and Cassy or Mike and Samantha Thatcher that had chosen the same sort of lives that we were choosing and continued to enjoy it and each other many years later. It was a wonderful thought on which to fall asleep.

I woke up the next day well rested yet feeling strangely disconcerted. It was as if I had a bad head cold and was getting ready to go to work, regardless of the ailment. My brain seemed to be in neutral but my body just kept to its routine. I packed the outfits that had been laid out the day before for today's competition, while Greg checked and double-checked his schedule and his bag of tricks. He was very quiet and that also added to the unreality of the situation, as he was generally very gregarious in the mornings.

Walking into the Jacob Javits center that morning was a totally different experience than yesterday. Early conventioneers mingled around the large vestibule pointing out one contestant or another as they whispered and took pictures. The zippered suit bag slung over my shoulder and Greg's ditty bag must have tipped off these early risers as they descended upon us taking pictures, asking me questions `like are you new to this?' and begging for autographs. I signed their scrap books `Hope you have a wild time!… baby' which Greg told me to write quietly in my ear. After about a dozen of these and the flashes nearly blinding me, increasing my disorientation until I wasn't really sure what I was doing here. I became an automan, doing as Greg told me and posing and smiling as required.

A tug on my arm set me back in motion and I found myself led past a guarded red rope gate and drawn into the warrens of cube like dressing room's set up for the contestants. Greg pushed aside the curtain entrance that was adorned with a large number twenty-two. Inside of the dressing room was a totally barren, with the exception of the left and back wall supporting shelf like desks that ran the length of each wall. A couple of metal folding chairs leaned against the wall to the right. A breeze from overhead caused me to look upward towards the white painted metal rafters far above.

Greg went to work quickly and set up both the chairs and then pulled out a laptop computer, while I hung up my suit bag. While the computer was booting he turned back to his ditty bag and pulled out my circular magnifying mirror, followed by my cosmetics case. These he placed in front of the folding chair on the sidewall table. Without even thinking I stripped off my capri's, sleeveless top and sandals before I slid into my white terry cloth robe and matching isotoner slippers. I began applying my makeup in an automatic an unthinking way just as we had rehearsed over and over again.

Rolled black seamed stockings, textured in a rose pattern, were put into my hands one at a time and I slid them up my legs. Greg held open a pair of black lace crotch-less panties for me to step into as soon as that was completed and then came the corset. It was loosely laced, so snapping shut the busk went easily. I stood there holding up the loose red and black material while he took control of the laces. Those long smooth pulls of his had become so normal as to hardly be noticeable, even as the heavy satin began to mold body to its will. Breathing in deeply I aided his last few adjustments and then breathed out, when he patted me on my back to signal that my laces were tied off. I went through the process of reseating my breasts that were crunched tightly together in their demi-cups. Once I was sure that my nipples were over the red satin lip, but hidden behind the black lace fringe I moved on to my next task.

The six inch spiked heel pumps were laid out in front of me so I lifted one leg for Greg to remove my slipper. I shimmied my toes down the arched sole and into the tight toe box while he held the shoe so that it wouldn't slip. My heel slid easily into place and I put all my weight on this foot as I went to work on the second.

`Fifteen minutes… All contestants are to report to back stage in fifteen minutes', the tinny sounding loud speakers announced.

Greg glanced at his watch and smiled, `Right on time' and then handed me my collar. I starred at it for a minute, unseeingly, until my training released my eyes and let me secure it about my neck. It felt smooth and comfortable about my throat and my enlarged reflection in the mirror clearly showed my name written in lower case script letters on either side, `baby'. My mind was in a state of total fugue and despite it feeling somehow right for me to be wearing the soft red leather collar, another part of me cried out who is that in the mirror?

I looked down to see Greg circle my waist with a tape measure, `Just a hair over seventeen inches. That's perfect, nearly a full inch more than the four required.' He began humming happily to himself as he began to tie my wrists together. The rope felt just like I knew it would through the black satin gloves that covered my arms to just above the elbow. Another tie followed on the soft flesh of my arms above my gloves. I winced as the cords wrenched at my shoulder blades.

It was like some crazy out of control dream. You know the type where you are worried that you haven't studied for some test back in college and you are forced by the dream to just follow along and go with the flow. Here I was barely dressed in a bizarre corset and black textured stockings as I was swiftly becoming more and more helpless. The crotch rope bought me a bit back to reality, as Greg slid the twin cords of white nylon between my lips and then tied them off to the bindings at my wrists.

I finally thought to frame a question to Greg, but as my mouth opened in popped a ball. `Good timing honey', Greg said as he put one hand behind my head, `now just open a little wider and I'll push this bad boy home.' Without thinking I complied and the two-inch bright red ball slid between the darker ruby red of my painted lips. My last chance to question going forward with this craziness faded into inconsequentiality as just like in a run away dream my dazed mind decided to just go with the flow.

Greg attached a four-foot leash to the metallic D ring centered below my throat and picked up a few more items as I watched in mute fascination. I was on an out of control roller coaster and all I could do was follow as Greg opened the curtain and led me out into the passageway. We weren't the only couple in the aisle and we soon entered the cue that was filtering its way to the back entrance to the stage.

Behind the curtain it was sheer mayhem as other slaves and masters fought against the grinding down minutes to complete their preparations. The sound of many voices talking filled the air as the crowd's presence began to intrude on my dazed state of dream fugue. I felt Greg attaching the small circlets with the number 22 stamped on it, to first the garter over the front of my right thigh and then one of its mates that fell over the rear of my left cheek. We had done this so many times that I need not look to see what was happening, and despite my addled mind I noticed Karen blinking her eyes at me. So she was stuck in my dream also, that's good I thought at least I have a friend a long. I blinked back at her and nodded my head in recognition.

The drone of the MC's voice had been going on now for a while and the curtain began to part. `This little angel is Angela, direct from LA and brought to us by her Master Tim. Angela's stats boast a large 40D chest, a narrow 26 inch waist and healthy 38 inch hips. As you can see…' The monologue and the roar of the crowd faded as I escaped into my own mind. Closing my eyes I let myself slide into a near Zen state as I let the dream wash over me. It was just another anxiety dream about the contest, so why should I worry?

I had been having these types of dreams for at least the last month, always with the main theme that I wasn't prepared. All of those dreams ended in disasters that left me in a cold sweat as I woke in the middle of the night. Things like I didn't remember to open my legs when Greg passed through the crotch rope or I pushed the ball gag out of my mouth, causing us to lose the competition and more importantly me to embarrass my Master. In the worst of the dreams I would fall off my heels right in the middle of the first event. Lord how I hated that one…

A tug on my leash caused me to open my eyes, only to find total darkness. Ah, but this always happened in my dreams, it was just because I was blindfolded now. I relaxed and waited for the dream to continue until it ended in another of its disastrous consequences.

`Baby, I've given your leash to one of the attendants. Your next in line, so they will be guiding you out onto the runway. Remember everything that we did in training and I promise that you will do fine!' Greg's removed his hand as I felt my leash tugged again and I started walking in the direction indicted. Lucinda always took my leash in training as she forced me to walk like a lady, despite the stiletto heels and blindfold.

`This contestant is Sharon right here from her hometown of NY, NY. Sharon and her Master Greg both work for the lingerie and erotic products company Leather & Lace and they are here representing their firm. This is the first time that we have ever had a couple do this so lets give a big hand for the little lady', the MC announce and the crowd roared.

The crowd roared? When had there ever been any noise in my dreams? My mind was awhirl… I, Sharon, shouldn't be standing here in front of thousands of people bound and helplessly on display. That didn't make any sense. The quick jerk on the leash straight downward caused me to stop where I stood. As I had been trained, I moved my feet just a bit to one side or the other as I centered myself.

My musings continued as the MC droned on about the size of my breasts, the waspishness of my waist and my tender age. I couldn't help thinking that Lucinda was much better at this than my dream moderator. She used that crop of her to point out all of my best attributes while this ones free hand was mauling me like I was some blow up toy. Just another little quirk of my out of control nightmare…

The stinging blow of the paddle landed just below my ass cheeks and at the top of my thighs. It was at that point that the dream exploded and reality flooded in. My mind searched for the last thing that had been said, and I realized the MC had asked the crowd if such a new blood such as me deserved the paddle. The overwhelming cheering of approval was what left me on the edge of falling over onto my face. But, this wasn't a dream anymore and I could once again control my fate. The thought I am baby, Greg's slave and this is where I belonged, making him proud of me flowed through my mind. Now all I had to do was to fall back onto my training and everything would work out.

Greg had told me the MC would hit me just where he had in an attempt to knock me off my heels, so we had practiced this single moment many times. During one of those training sessions I used all I had learned during my years of ballet and raised myself out of my heels to stand on my toes, regaining my balance and hanging there for a good thirty count before lowering myself back into my pumps. Lucinda jumped on this immediately and Greg agreed that if I could do this again that we had to put it into our routine. So, I did it again… and again… and again… and again, till it became a part of me. I still remember the end of that first session while Lucinda shook her head in wonder and Greg removed my bindings he had told me, `baby, you are the best submissive a Master could ever ask for!'

I could not see from behind my blindfold, but I could hear that the audience had gone quiet as I balanced on my toes. The hit had been perfect and I had seemingly let it blow me out of my heels, and now it was up to me. I leaned a bit forward and pulled back on my arms so that the crotch rope dug deep into my pussy. The bite of the rope steadied me and with a slight fanning of my fingers I reached total equilibrium.

I pictured myself standing on tip toe in my six inch stiletto's, knees slightly bent, body arching a bit forward and my arms thrown back as stiff as steel beams pulling desperately at the rope splitting my pussy to get just that little bit more balance. The pulsing pain in my thighs was one I had come to know well and I'm sure meant that my creamy mocha tanned skin was now a vibrant shade of crimson. I could hear the heavy bells hanging from my nipples pealing brightly in the silence as I imagined them swinging beneath my out thrust chest.

One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four… I began the count in my head. At fifteen my feet started to feel the stress, but I pushed the thought away from me. The MC became uneasy with the dead space in his program and decided to fill it in, `My God, ladies and gentlemen this is amazing. I don't know if she is going to fall flat on her face or balance like this forever! Looking at the concentration on her face I don't think she knows for sure which way it's going to go either!' He paused for a second as I hit thirty. My arches were really beginning to feel like they were on fire and this was normally when I would lower myself back into my heels. `Let's help the little lady out with a cheer', the announcer continued, `Sharon… Sharon… Sharon… Sharon…' It started out as a low murmur running through the audience, but in only seconds it became a full blown gale like the home team being cheered on by their fans. Biting down hard on the ball in my mouth I kept my count going until I hit forty-five and then ever so slowly, I lowered myself back into my heels, straightening my knees and my body as I let my tired arms dropped to rest against my back.

`That was the most incredible thing that I have ever seen!' The MC said in awe. `And ladies and gents that's saying a lot for someone like me that's been doing this for twenty years! You are one very lucky and very talented lady. Once again ladies and gentlemen, Sharon, from Leather and Lace, Incorporated!'

I knew that this was my cue to turn and leave as one of the attendants took charge of my leash, but I couldn't help myself. `iiii `ame ess aaabbbyyy!' I yelled into my gag.

`What's that?' The MC asked as I felt him pushing the foam covered mike against my lips.

`iiii `ame ess aaabbbyyy!' I yelled again through the mouth filling rubber ball.

Then I heard Greg yell from a distance, `she says that her name is baby, her slave name'.

The MC paused for a minute and repeated what Greg had said to the crowd. `Well folks anyone that can do what this lovely young lady just did can be called anything she wants as far as I'm concerned. What do you think?'

Slowly the rumbling of the crowd subsided into a low chant. `Baby… baby… baby… it got louder and louder until the entire auditorium was filled with my name ringing about its walls. I smiled behind my gag in satisfaction as I turned on my heels to leave. I gave them my best Mae West bump and grind imitation as I followed my tether behind the curtain.

That's right I'm my Master's slave baby and you had best learn that name, because I'm going to win this contest!

I could feel Greg's arms about me as he hugged me and told me over an over again how proud he was of me. Even the pain of the nipple clamps as they were removed couldn't penetrate my happiness. The blindfold came next and he was working on the gag when the crowd beyond the curtain simply exploded in pandemonium.

The information flowed towards us like a wave towards the shore as people began to call from one to the next the news. Someone leaned over and yelled into Greg's ear, but I couldn't hear what was said over the volume of noise. The next thing I knew Greg was hugging me again and people I didn't know were pounding us both on the back. I moaned though the gag as the hearty thumps became painful given how tightly my arms were bound. Greg immediately surmised my predicament and put his arm protectively around me as he began to hurry me out of the sea of contestants and Masters.

It wasn't until we were back in our dressing room that he had time to pull out the huge ball so that I could ask what had just happened. Greg smiled and began to untie my arms as he answered cryptically, `Something that hasn't happened in fifteen years.'

`Hmmm, that feels good', I moaned as my elbow binding was released. `OK, I'll bite. What happened fifteen years ago?'

`Anita Ekberg scored a perfect ten during the runway event', Greg said as he began to whistle tunelessly.

I sat down and kicked off my heels, luxuriating in rubbing my aching arches. Greg moved his seat across from mine and began to massage my feet for me. Now, I was in total heaven. ‘So who scored the ten?’ I asked as the relaxation swept through my body.

`You did', Greg said softly.

My eyes popped open and I said excitedly, `I did?'

`That's right baby, you did', Greg said with a grin of smug satisfaction. `The first person to do it in fifteen years and the first newcomer to EVER do it!!!' We were in each other's arms again even before a conscious thought could cross through my head.

`Knock, Knock', someone said loudly from the other side of the curtain. `Will you just kiss her already so that we can come in' said Tom's distinctive voice. Greg swept the curtain away and the couple walked in. Tom walked over and shook Greg's hand and Karen embraced me like a long lost sister.

`That was just incredible honey', Karen said excitedly, `my goodness when you were standing on your toes balancing in mid-air it seemed like you were going to stay there forever!'

Tom looked over at me and chimed in, `She looked like a statue! Totally motionless… it was just incredible!'

I started to minimize it but Greg cut in before I could give away any of our secrets and agreed with the two that `his baby was simply amazing'. I basked in his praise even as I took his warning to heart. Even best friends don't have to know everything that happens between a Master and his submissive.

`Pardon my manners', I said to change the subject, `but I should have asked how you fared on the runway Karen.'

Tom put his arm around her shoulders and answered, `A solid eight point eight, which I might add is her best score in the four years that we have competed.' His pride was as easy to see as Greg's and I could see Karen glow.

`It was nothing', Karen said, `he didn't even paddle me!'

`Oh, no, he didn't paddle you. He just pulled on your nipple clamps until he had you bent forward so far I thought that your forehead was going to touch the floor!'

`Now, don't be exaggerating Thomas Moraine!' Karen admonished him with a wagging finger. `I was never bent at more than at a ninety degree angle!' She reached up and rubbed her breasts, `Although it did feel like he was going to pull my little peaches right off my chest!'

`And they are the most lovely peaches that I have ever seen', said her husband in a mock gallant tone.

`Why thank you sir', Karen replied as she really laid on her southern accent. `And from a man who ogles as many breasts as you do sir that is high praise indeed!'

`Quite so, quite so', Tom agreed without even seeming to mind his wife's attack on his roving eyes. He turned to me before continuing, `regardless of that, you my dear are now the lady to beat!'

Greg reached over and updated the computer screen, which filled with the latest scores. `With forty-four of the fifty contestants results posted Sharon is the clear leader. There is one nine point six, but that's your closet competition. Karen, you're doing well with your score putting you in tenth place.'

`That's exactly what I was telling her on our way here', Tom exclaimed. `A solid posting in the Lava walk tomorrow and she's a shoe in for one of the top six places!'

The banter went on back and forth and once again I began to relax. As I sat down in my chair Greg perched himself against the desk and began massaging the tight muscles in my shoulder blades. He and Tom began an analytical argument about how I could easily lock in a place in the finals tomorrow with any type of a decent showing. That was tomorrow's problem though. As I rested my hand lightly on his and looked up into his face, he graced me with that roguish grin of his and a knowing look that told me just how much he wanted me.

Tom and Karen left a short while later and we did not end up meeting them for dinner. Greg had an entirely different plan for our evening that was absolutely delicious and only called for the two of us!

That evening I told Greg about my dreams. It was after an exhausting love making bondage session in which I found myself bound in a ball-like tie while he shifted me about at his leisure so that he could play with each of my three holes. He was very pleased with me and it showed in his words and in the number of times that he let me cum.

His first reaction to my dreams was the one that I expected as he had been indignant that I had not told him sooner. This quickly passed as he wrapped his strong arms about me and began to soothe the tears that I could no longer hold back. I explained that I had been afraid to tell him while we trained, as I feared he might pull us out. But, now that we were committed and with this big win under my belt, I felt that the time had come. Greg admonished me, but only gently, as he pointed out that it was his place to decide whether we should pull out and that it had been wrong for me to hide anything about myself from him.

I began to apologize and he hushed me with two soft fingers against my lips. `No beloved, don't take this all upon yourself. We've been so busy of late that it hasn't left enough time just to talk between the two of us…' He paused for a few seconds at my look of confusion. `…Remember when I first moved in and after every dinner we would sit and talk for an hour or more. Than after dinner we would walk under the stars where we would share everything.' I nodded and he went on. `Well the last six weeks, heck nearly the last eight if you include all of the effort we put into Cassy's party, ate up all of that very important time.'

He paused once more and looked away as if thinking of something. `When Cassy moved in I really hated her, all I could see was a gold-digger. Over time we became the best of friends for one reason and one reason only. I knew without a doubt that she loved my father. The reason I knew that was because of something she told me that struck a cord so deep that I will never forget it. She told me that she loved my dad because he was the first man who ever let her tell him exactly what she was thinking. That there never needed to be any secrets or walls between them because she knew that there was nothing that she couldn't tell him.'

He looked over at me and asked softly, `Do you understand what I am getting at?'

A host of things that other submissives had told me or that I had witnessed between his father and Cassy had led me to believe that my status was not as black and white as it might seem, flooded through my mind. There was this gray area where my needs and desires resided that I wanted to express but didn't know how. Greg seemed to see my need and it was like he was turning on a spotlight to help me find my way. Yet I still wanted some reassurance.

`But you are my Master, so shouldn't your wish be my command?' I asked softly, praying that he would not get mad at me.

`You've seen much too much "I Dream of Genie" in re-runs when you grew up didn't you?' He replied with a gentle laugh. More seriously he continued, `Your thoughts, your needs and especially your desires are important to me. I want us both to be happy and the best ways to make that happen is to be entirely honest which each other. So why don't you start by telling me something important to you.'

I smiled brightly and nodded my head happily making the ponytail bounce on my back as I thought for a moment searching for something innocuous to say for my first attempt. `Such as if you are going to ball gag me I like the bigger balls to the smaller ones.'

He smiled and gave me a common on signal with his hand. I took a deep breath and than let it out, `Like telling you about my nightmares and then telling you how much I really wanted to represent Leather and Lace in the bondage competition.'

`Now we are getting somewhere', he said to me as he sat directly across form me, and looked into my eyes as he rested his hands on my shoulders. `Let me let you in on a little secret. Every night that you stirred in your sleep, I woke up and comforted you by whispering softly in your ear. You would talk in your sleep… mostly gibberish, but some words were easy to understand… such as scared… excitement… and responsibility.' Pulling me into his warm embrace, `These are the things we used to talk about and the things that we need to talk about once more.' My eyes began to tear and I couldn't understand why.

`Here', he said softly, `I'll make it easy for you. I agreed to go to the bondage competition for two reasons and neither of them had to do with Leather and Lace. My first reason was because of how important it was to you. Secondly, but not far behind, was my own desire to show you off to the world. I am very proud of you… your beauty, your submissiveness, your brains, your passion and your perseverance. So that's my story… now what really brings you here?'

The tears really began to fall and I buried my head in his shoulder. I knew that I did not want to be the independent woman that I once was, but I knew in my heart and my mind that I was as smart and intelligent woman and I wanted to share that with my love. The imaginary walls that I had erected came tumbling down and the tears that flowed from my eyes were tears of happiness.

`It was all for Leather and Lace at first, but the deeper that we got into our training the more that I knew that I wanted to be in this competition for one true reason. I realized that I wanted to win. Partly to show everyone that you are the best Master and that I am your loving and obedient slave…' Stopping, I wondered if I could get the rest out. Oh, Lord, in for a penny in for a pound… `But mainly because I'm a competitive bitch and I know that I can be the best!'

`That is the baby that I have come to know and love!' Greg shouted as he hugged me so tightly that I feared for my ribs. `I want to show you off because I know that you're in this for the win and there is nothing that could make me prouder!' We continued to talk well into the evening until finally his own tiredness overtook him. His light snoring stirred the back of my hair, as I pressed his protective arm to my chest and sidled back just a bit deeper into his spoon. Smiling to myself, I joined my lover in slumber.

Wednesday dawned crystal clear and even the city streets seemed cleaner as we walked over to the convention center shortly after 1pm. It was a much later start than yesterday and I felt incredibly well rested, after my first night in weeks without a single nightmare! Looking over at my man he noticed my happy smile and returned it. The night before had been wonderful in a much more meaningful way than the sex alone and the bonds that held us together were stronger than ever.

He knew that look in my eye and voiced it for both of us, `For the gold'. I nodded my head and repeated the words, `For the gold' and than returned to applying my makeup. Despite the fact that it was important to look good in pictures and that nothing helped you look your best more than the proper use of cosmetics, the bottom line was that in one hundred and fifty degree heat less was always better! Just a light dusting of shimmering red about my eyes, a hint of blush on my cheeks (and I really didn't care if it is out of fashion!) and Forever Scarlet polish to finish off my nails.

The outfit was what was prescribed by the contest for the Lava Rock Walk event, a non-flammable body suit that I had chosen to wear in the metallic red. The heavy flame resistant tights were nude colored, but didn't come close to matching my tan. I poured water into the cushioned insoles of my slippers and let my toes wiggle into the mushy lining. Karen had warned me to do this and it still burned me that Cristobel, Greg's crazy ex-girl friend had not given up that secret.

I had practiced for weeks without the aid of the soaked interior and I had gotten more than a few minor burns despite the protection of the metallic slippers. Now I felt confident that as long as I got through the course in a reasonable amount of time that the help of the additional moisture would save me from any more burns. Of course Karen had her own way of making that point, `If you stay out among those burning rocks too long that water will heat up like a tea kettle and boil your little tootsies red. But heck it's either that or having them grilled with no protection at all!'

Unlike yesterday there was no fuzziness in my thoughts and Greg and I worked like a well-oiled machine. I stood so that he could add my restraints that consisted of a thick white belt, double buckled about my waist and matching padded wrists cuffs that were locked to either side. He added my collar, but buckled it loosely so that it wouldn't cause me to sweat more. My only other adornment was a red terry sweat band holding my tightly coiffed hair against my head.

Greg gave me a last inspection and then lifted my chin so that I would have to look him in the eyes. I shivered as this move put an emphasis to his words, `you've trained hard. You know what you have to do. You're my girl and you are going to win!'

I leaned forward and boldly gave him a peck on the lips, `Yes, Master. I'm going to win!' I smiled at him mischievously before I lowered my eyes to their proper position.

He slapped me on the rear and followed me out into the aisle as the PA system called for all contestants to meet at the Lava Rock pit. Greg and I had studied the arena that they had created in past contests and this one wasn't much different. It was built on a raised platform so that the steel plated floor could be heated. The lava rocks were strewn about the floor in no discernable pattern, while their porous surfaces gave off twice as much heat as a similar patch of bare steel. Eight-foot high walls in the shape of a hexagon surrounded the pit itself causing the super heated air to sizzle and shimmer. The fans were crowded upon the tiered seating that circled the pit and rose nearly to the rafters.

The MC walked out onto a copula that had been built above the pit and you could see that he was already sweating. Even the two bikini clad women that were at his sides seemed to be feeling the heat as they waved their arms about as if they were models on "The Price is Right". `The object of this contest is quite simple and that is to have the fastest time in crossing from one side of the pit to the other. Besides getting badly hurt, contestants that fall will be penalized. Further any contestant that is found to force another to fall will be removed from the rest of the competition.' The crowd booed at this but the MC just stared them all down until there was silence. `Yes, I realize that some of you would just love to see the lovely bondage babes in a brawl, but let me warn you and them, if anything like that happens I'll turn the fire hoses on them and then we will just see how they like that!' With the sweat sliding off his brow I don't think anyone of us doubted the man's word, but that was fine with me as my entire game plan centered on a fair game. `Contestants will enter the pit in waves of eight staggered at 10 minute intervals. If a contestant goes down during one of the waves the intervals will be held up until the asbestos suited monitors clear up the issue.' God, he said it so nonchalantly, but what he was talking about was the horrible possibility that one of us would slip on a rock and fall onto the heated plates. In that case our fettered hands would make it nearly impossible to get back up and only the heavily protected monitors could save us from some really terrible burns. I winced and cleared my head of the thought. Greg rubbed my shoulders as the MC started to bring the crowd to a fury pitch of excitement.

`Do either one of you girls want to go down there and join the contestants', the MC asked his swim suit clad entourage. In obviously a well-rehearsed drama they began to plead with the man not to send them to the pit, going as far as to kneel down and kiss the toes of his shoes! The crowd roared and the MC patted them on the head and told them that they had been very pleasing so they were safe… for the moment. The crowd roared again as if looking for its first sacrifice.

There was a large board to our left with our names listed upon it in neat boxes. Eight boxes made up each wave with four boxes and wide and two deep. I knew that this reflected the fact that were only four doors in both the entrance and exit walls, hence even the group of eight of us was staggered with two entrants thirty seconds apart. I was happy to see that I was following my girlfriend Karen as part of the third wave.

The MC called out the first eight contestants names and the crowd roared to life as they lined up in two's behind each of the opened doors. At the sound of the bell the first group of four jumped down unto the floor that was a good eighteen inches below the lip of the floor. Swiftly they began to high step around the lava rocks and only when they absolutely had too did they walk over the treacherous rocks. The second wave jumped at the sound of the second bell and was shortly followed by the scream of one of the contestants that must have fallen. The doors had closed, leaving only the exit doors as means of escape and cutting off my view of the event. Everyone looked up above our heads at the large screen that showed the scrambling contestants.

The woman writhing on the ground in pain must have been one of the first four. Her arms showed a number of angry red marks and she was bleeding from a gash in her leggings. The other contestants scattered to get as far away as possible from the wilding flailing female as they struggled to complete their run. Women that would have been described as absolute beauties before had been reduced to sweating wrecks in just the few minutes that they had been subjected to the pit. It was a sobering thought, but even more sobering was the poor girl that was finally scooped up by a yellow suited monitor and taken through a side panel to the in-house infirmary.

Just when it seemed that the worst was over, Cami, a beautiful little Eurasian woman slipped as she tried to climb up to the door. She screamed as she fell nearly flat on her face, scraping and burning her lovely aquiline cheeks on the merciless rocks. Her fall had caught the monitors off balance, as they had started moving back to their starting positions to wait for the next wave to begin.

Cami screamed again as she rolled and her beautiful dark brown hair began to smolder and smoke as it came in contact with the super heated rocks. `Get out of my way', yelled someone who pushed one of the attendants aside and jumped down onto the heated plates. In three quick strides he was over to the tiny girl. He grimaced as he bent down and grabbed her as his own finger felt the heat of the burning plates, but when he straightened he held her up and flipped her over his shoulder into a firemen's carry. The crowd was going nuts as the MC reported what was going on. `That Kiri Yamamoto, Cami's Master who has jumped down into the pit to save her. My God look at his boots, the rubber bottoms are melting to the floor!' We all watched horrified as the soles of his boots became like glue, slowing his steps to a crawl as he had to pull each shoe loose. The horrible stench of burnt meat was soon joined with that terrible smell of burning rubber. As he reached the exit door two attendants snatched Cami off of his shoulder at which point he all but collapsed. The monitors just made it to his sides in time to catch him and pass him through the door before the pit claimed its third victim.

`My God, we've never had two contestants down in the first round… and if it hadn't been Master Kiri I fear that things would have been even worse than this…' The screen diffused from the pit into a score board and the six contestants who had finished scores were displayed. Cami and the other girl that had fallen were listed as scratched. Shit! They should have been listed as burned! Despite the disaster the crowd went crazy as one of the women posed a 9.6 with one of the fastest times recorded in the events history.

I couldn't watch anymore and I turned away from the screen. Greg looked very serious as he asked me if I was all right and when I told him that I was, he nodded and left with Tom move over to the exit side of the pit.

I thought of the weeks that we had trained for this event, where I was forced to walk around and sometimes over these same types of lava rocks. But it was all so different. The area that we worked in was only a twelve by twelve-foot piece of Lucinda basement where sheets of metal had been put down over the flooring. Greg heated about fifty of the rocks in a large Weber grill on the patio outside and than threw them haphazardly about the metal flooring. Jumping from an improvised eighteen-inch wooden table, I then would circumnavigate the floor space again and again, while Greg continuously re-heated the rocks. Over time the metal began to absorb the heat of the rocks, but nothing that we had done prepared me for what I had just seen.

`My God it was like Dante's version of Hell', I said out loud without realizing it.

`Yep, it's pretty darn bad, but that's why it's part of the meat grinder', Karen responded brightly. `But don't you worry honey, I've made it through all three times without taking a spill so I'm sure that you can do it!'

`What do you mean that it's all part of the meat grinder?' I asked perplexed.

`Oh, baby these first three events are simply here to winnow out the field and get the crowd pumped up for the main event', she told me patiently. `Fifty girls started and we've already lost four. Two were lost in the runway event and now two more in the first heat. There are five more waves to go so by the end of today the field should be narrowed down to somewhere between thirty-five to forty of us by tonight. Then the gauntlet tomorrow will cull out some more.' She paused and looked at me questioningly.

I nodded my head as understanding dawned on me, `Right, a meat grinder. Great and we are the meat!'

A proctor came up to us and directed us to the second door, as the third wave was getting ready. I had heard the crowd noises as we talked but hadn't thought twice about them. Now I realized that the second heat was over and the board was posting the results. Two nine point fours marks and two more scratches. Good Lord two more down!

I was standing a foot or two behind Karen when the door opened, yet it felt like I was standing in front of an oven as the heat slammed through the opening and wrapped itself about us. Looking out over the pit I was amazed to see that the far wall looked like it was a mile away. I yelled this in Karen's ear over the roar of the crowd and she called back that it was just a trick of the shimmering heat. Lines of sweat began to roll down my back and into the crack of my ass. I shifted myself, but it didn't help dispel the uncomfortable feeling.

Karen tensed visibly as the board displayed the ten-second count down and the crowd joined in yelling out the remaining time. Her gloved hands clenched and unclenched beneath the cuffs that held them bound to her waist. That beautiful long brown hair of hers was wrapped up into a tight bun and was as soaked as if she had just come out of the shower. She looked ready. Every precaution that she could have taken had been and yet I had this feeling that something was wrong.

`Good Luck', I said, as it was the only thing that I could think to say.

`Honey, I don't need luck today', she yelled with a smile, `I've got you covering my back.'

The bell rang and she jumped down onto the heated steel. I saw her wince, but she regained her composure quickly and began the trek about the heated rocks. One step, two steps, three steps all placed perfectly. She was doing exactly as I had been taught, keeping her head down and searching for patterns to help thread her way across the dangerous flooring.

I looked up to see the clock winding down. Three more seconds before I would be allowed to start. Just then I heard a scream. Jessica, the busty blond in the lane next to Karen went down hard. She wasn't able to immediately get back up on her feet so she tried to roll away from the pile of rocks that had caused her to slip. Just as the bell rang I realized that her roll would take her right across Karen's path.

`Karen!!!' I yelled as my knees bent to absorb the impact the jump. I almost screamed again this time in fear as my slippers sizzled on the heated plates, as the excess water began to burn off. Shit, move I yelled at myself as I began to run towards my girl friend.

The heat was incredible and sweat soon sprang from my every pore, running down my back and chest in little streams. Two steps and only a few seconds and I felt like I had been here forever. Oh, my God this is sheer torture! They might as well just tie us up to a spit and roast us over a bed of coals. Damn, I better not voice that idea out loud or someone might decide to add it into the contest!

The oven like heat sapped my strength as if it were roasting the moisture out of a grilled piece of beef but Karen's scream made me re-focus my thoughts, as my fears became reality. She must have seen Jessica at the last minute and tried to jump over her, but it hadn't worked and she had fallen back on her haunches. As I ran towards her she tried to do an acrobatic leap to her feet. Even though she did manage to get her feet under her, she couldn't keep her balance and ended up right back on her rump. She screamed again as her meagerly protected skin came in contact with the heated steel for the second time.

The two yellow suited monitors had converged on Jessica, but her wild gyrations took down one of them before the other could rescue her. The other contestants scattered away from the two women that were down as they fought their ways across to the exit. In one instant it was clear that no one was going to be able to help my friend while her flesh was seared to a crisp.

My training flashed through my mind as Greg and Lucinda had yelled at me over and over never stop. It doesn't matter what is going on around you, but rule number one is that you must never stop. Once you stop, your momentum is lost and you will never regain that lost time. Lucinda had yelled at me like I was some type of a marine recruit until I had yelled back at the top of my lungs, `Never stop… never stop… NEVER STOP!'

Shit! I had promised Greg that I would win… Shit!

A drop of sweat stung my eye as I pulled up to a stop over Karen. I widened my stance to steady myself. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her face, `Don't stop for me. Win the God Damn race!', she yelled in obvious pain. I performed a kind of playboy bunny dip and grabbed her under the armpit with my strong right hand. `What are you doing?' She demanded.

`I'm saving your ass, now jump!' I yelled back at her as the streams of my sweat splashed unto her upturned face. Karen's training was every bit as good as mine and the command to jump hit her like a pail of ice water. Wincing in pain she gathered herself up and snap jumped unto her feet. It was a weak jump that would have never made it on its own, but even though her weight nearly bowled us both over, I leaned forward until my weight gave her the balance she needed. Slowly we straightened until we were both standing.

I let go of her arm, but soon found my hand filled with hers as she squeezed mine and yelled, `Move!' Galvanized back into action, I could once again hear and see what was going on around us. The crowd had gone wild as it whooped and yelled imprecations aimed at helping us back to our feet. Now they were cheering us on, as we were nearly the last two people in the pit.

Hand in hand we navigated the rest of the floor until we made our way to the exit door. I looked up to see Tom being physically restrained as he fought to get to his tortured loves side. Greg was yelling at him, that Karen would be scratched if she didn't make it in under her steam, but the angry mask of Tom's face showed that he could care less.

`You first', I yelled at her and she nodded at me to tired and drained to argue further. She yelped when I gave her a final nudge against her butt to make sure she didn't fall back into the pit. Gathering the last of my own strength I leapt into the opening that was cleared once more as Tom swept up Karen in his arms and carried her away.

The roar of the crowd was nearly deafening as Greg held my shoulders and looked into my eyes. `You were amazing out there', he yelled with a smile on his face. Every bit of energy in my body left me and I slumped down to the cool wooden floor. I had been totally prepared for him to ream me up one side and down the other but now I could totally relax as my love held me.

`Please take off my slippers. My feet are still being fried in them.' Reaching down with a concerned look he peeled off the offending items and sure enough tendrils of steam floated up from them.

Lifting me up into his arms, I closed my eyes and rested against his chest. He carried me away from the roaring crowd and soon I was feeling totally chilled as the buildings air conditioning began to freeze the rivulets of sweat on my body. I curled myself against him to stay warm. In seconds we were back in our dressing room and Greg was wrapping towels about me to clean off the sweat and stop me from shivering.

My feet were starting to hurt and when I looked at their soles what faced me was angry red skin showing right through the nude hose. Greg pushed a tub of ice water over and I sank my pained peds into it. Pins and needles exploded across the bottoms and top of my extremities in much the same way it hurts to put your frozen feet into a hot tub of water. I began to struggle to pull them out, but he held my legs down.

`You leave those feet in that bath baby!' Greg yelled at me sternly. You don't have any blisters on your feet yet and if you keep your feet in this bath for a bit you shouldn't get any.' As soon as he yelled I stopped and grit my teeth against the pain. `Good girl', he praised me softly, `this is going to make the world of difference tomorrow when you have to be back in your six inch heels for the Gauntlet event.'

The pain began to subside and I thanked the Gods that be, that at least one of us was thinking clearly. I could barely even think of putting my scolded feet into the narrow confines of a pair of stiletto heels. Those things were torture all by themselves, but sure as little babies were born I was going to have to put a pair on for tomorrow's competition.

As I stood in the tub of icy water, Greg stripped off my sweat soaked bodysuit and leggings. I heard a familiar `Knock, Knock' from behind our curtain doorway. Greg called, `Come on in Tom' as I belted my robe about me. Tom held the curtain while Karen waddled in wincing in pain. She dropped the large cold pack wrapped in a towel on the desk and then sat on it with a sigh.

`My God, why aren't you in the infirmary?' I asked stunned out of my own tiredness.

`Ah, there nothing but third degree burns and some of them aren't even that bad', she said in her thickest southern accent. `The so-called doctors in the infirmary could only tell me to keep the damaged skin cool and apply plenty of aloe… as if I couldn't have figured that out for myself!' She paused to give me a huge smile, `Besides there no way that my Tom could keep me away once I found out that my brave rescuer had won again!'

`Won again?' I asked perplexed.

`You don't know?' She asked flabbergasted.

`Know what?'

`That you won the lava walk with a nine point eight', Karen replied smugly.

Greg left my side to turn to the computer muttering `how is that possible' under his breath. Tom was by his side in a flash and they worked there way through the scoring until they could get the details on my results. `By God, it's unbelievable, but you darn well did it.' He said happily as he ran over and hugged me. `There were four parts to the scoring, speed was only one of them, so slowing down to help Karen left you with an 8.5, which bumped up to a 9.0 when they gave you a ten second bonus for good sportsmanship. The judges gave you tens in every other area.'

`But there are only three scoring criteria, not four', I replied in confusion.

Tom joined in with a smile, `You know the rule that you aren't allowed to adversely affect another contestant unless it is within the confines of the contest?' I nodded my head in the positive. `Well it appears that the corollary is the fourth grading factor in all events! It has something to do with tomorrow's event and the fact that in the past women would keep beating each other even after they were down or when they were trying to get up. When they stopped that practice they added this rule and it's been sitting there ever since.' That big smile of his seemed to fill the room. `And you pretty lady found it without even trying.'

Karen looked up at the two of us and added, `Not only that, but since my fall was caused by another contestant I received the maximum time bonus of fifteen seconds which raised me to a 9.2 and which puts me in seventh place. So this old girl has got a chance to make it into the finals for the first time ever!'

`You're still going to compete tomorrow? But that's crazy they are all going to be aiming for your burns and that is going to hurt like nobodies business.' I said totally startled that she would even consider going on.

`Baby I bore two children all through natural childbirth and let me tell you that nothing that anyone can ever do to me will be more painful than that!' Karen replied earnestly. `So as long as I've got a chance to make it into the finals, you can bet that I can take whatever they want to dish out!'

`You know I tried to tell her the same thing', Tom chimed in, `but I couldn't fault her reasoning.'

`Ah, hmm', someone said from behind the curtain.

Greg stuck his head out of the curtained doorway and asked, `Can we help you?'

The backstage attendant nodded and said, `The Head Promoter would like to see you both in his office at your earliest possible convenience.' Seeing the question forming on Greg's lips he added, `And no I don't know why.' He turned and walked away without another word.

`Ah, well I guess we better be going so we can take care of my brides burnt butt!' Tom said as he helped Karen off the desk. They left amidst a storm of her grumbling about just how funny her husband thought he was.

The secretary in the outer office sat cross-legged behind a desk that looked like it had never been used for work. Her attention was entirely on her nails as she buffed and shaped them to perfection. I saw Greg's eyes stray to her flagrantly displayed legs and smiled to myself as he scowled. Her impressive display of thigh in her short slit skirt was lost on my man, as it was all too obvious that she wore cheap pantyhose.

Pantyhose and my Master did not get along, as he hated having anything between him and what he considered to be his. I'm sure the strappy platform sandals that she wore also turned him off. Oh, certainly the seven-inch spike heel would have interested him but the three-inch platform supporting the balls of her feet ruined the effect. Knowing him, he would have been much more aroused by a simple pair of four-inch heels.

Her impressive breast works however did seem to meet with his approval. She wore a brightly stripped shirt that was tailored to her body and ended lying lightly over the skirts waistband rather than tucked into it. It was a new fashion that many teens were displaying which made me wonder if all of her makeup hid a much younger woman than I had at first guessed.

She finally seemed to notice us, and her initial look of disdain from being interrupted quickly changed to a predatory smile as she licked her lips while she looked directly into Greg's eyes. `And just how may I be of… Service to you?' She asked suggestively while the fingers of one hand slid down the front of her open blouse to make sure that she was displaying as much cleavage as possible.

My Master, I know, has a weakness for large breasts in tight shirts as he often had me wear blouses a size to small when he wanted to tie me in street clothes so I felt I should take the lead. `Your office sent for me. I am Sharon Glasser here to see the head promoter.'

She gave a little tinkling laugh, `Oh, yes the HEAD promoter…' she said continuing to watch Greg's eyes as she emphasized the word "head". His earlier interest cooled quickly leaving behind an angry gaze. Her smile vanished as her attempted seduction failed miserably and in another second that hard steely look forced her to break eye contact. `Ah… just one second and I see if Mr. DeNoto is in.'

She stood and straightened her skirt, obviously trying to regain her composure before she entered the door she had been guarding. Stupid girl, I thought to myself, what did she expect to happen when she starred directly into a master's eyes! The twit certainly hadn't met one before otherwise her flirting would have taken an entirely different tact.

The door opened and a man with a shark-like smile, which fit perfectly with his sharkskin suit, emerged. He walked directly toward me with outstretched hands, but his eyes darted quickly back and forth between the two of us. `Hello, I'm Danny DeNoto. Sharon it is an honor to meet you', he said in a gravelly ingratiating voice as his two clammy hands wrapped themselves around my right. His eyes darted back to Greg, `and you sir, it is a true pleasure to meet a Master of your obvious quality, that could create such an outstanding submissive.'

I disengaged my hand while he watched Greg and wiped off his grime on the side of my designer sweat pants. With a sweeping gesture he said, `Please step into my office.' His tone changed, `Marcy please get us all a cup of coffee.' The secretary, Marcy, gave him a look that said that he could get his own damn coffee, but a hard glance in return forced her to hold her tongue.

After he had closed the door behind us he said softly, `It is just so hard to find good help these days, isn't it? Marcy is my wife's niece and not much good at anything, but I keep her around for her obvious assets… in terms of greeting guests.' I wondered to myself just how much his wife knew about his delving into those obvious assets, which was easy to see through their well-developed interplay. Regardless, I wasn't there to discuss his infidelity.

He interlaced his fingers on the desk before him as he got down to business. `First I must congratulate you on wining the first two events. That's a first in the thirty years of this contest and it does make you a bit of a celebrity in the B&D world. If you take that plus the facts that you are a total unknown to the industry and that you are nearly a shoe in to make the finals, that makes you a very hot property.' I nodded my head in agreement and waited for him to get to the point. `So what I would like to do is ask you're permission to post pictures of you on the BondageCon 2004 website.' Ah, so that is what this was all leading up to!

`That's right the disclaimer that I signed only referred to using my picture after the contest was over. Hmm, I suppose your lawyers screwed up on that one', I replied off-handedly.

He looked pained when he replied, `Yes, well this is a very unusual situation.'

`Yes, I'm sure it is and if you could get the word out on the net that an incredibly beautiful newcomer was looking at making a clean sweep of the competition, especially with some pictures from say the runway contest with me teetering in those six inch heels to back it up… hmm, you could probably increase the attendance by a factor of what? … three perhaps? Add that to how much you can charge for people to download those pictures and we are talking some very serious money aren't we?'

I ticked off these thoughts on my fingers as they popped into my head. What I was doing was merciless, but heck this was business and after watching Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Stanton go at it this was pretty small potatoes. From the corner of my eye I noticed that Greg was watching me intently and I chose to take his silence as encouragement to continue.

Mr. DeNoto paled visibly as he began to run a finger about his collar, as if it were too tight, before he stopped himself. Reluctantly he agreed, `Yes, that's about it in a nutshell. So if you will just sign this document we can all get back about our business.'

`I see', I replied thoughtfully as I looked at the paper that had been placed in front of me. `Hmm, what I don't see is the amount of remuneration that I am to receive for my services?' I passed it over to Greg, but it was obvious that it was merely a release form.

`Remuneration?' He asked perplexed.

`Payment… money', I supplied in an effort to broaden his vocabulary.

`Oh, you want a kick back', he said leaning back in his chair with a smile, `I'm sure something like that can be arranged.'

`No, I do not want a kick back', I told him firmly, `what I was thinking of was that every picture you post of me or any statements that you make about me must have "Leather & Lace, Inc. representative" attached in big bold letters.'

`But we have a firm policy that none of our postings be associated with any one company!' He replied in an angry voice.

`Ah, then I suppose that we have an impasse', I replied airily.

`An im… what?' He said as his face reddened.

`An impasse… we can not come to an agreement so there is no deal', I explained as I would to a child while leaning back in my seat.

Jumping to his feet, he planted both hands on the desk with a thump and leaned over it towards me, `Now look here missy…'

That was a far as he got before the noise of Greg's hand slamming down on the desk stunned him to a stop. `Danny', he said very quietly, `you are going to sit down at your desk nice and easily or this meeting is over.' He waited till the poor wretch was looking directly at him before adding, `Do I make myself clear?'

`Yeah, yeah…' he said as he sat back down, `but we don't do that!'

`Danny', Greg continued softly, `I suggest you talk to the lady and not me. It's her picture that you want to plaster all over the inter-net not mine.'

`Look Sharon, I'm sorry for getting out of line, but I can't agree to what you are asking', he said as he relaxed a bit and spread his hands in negation. `Now, if there is some other form of payment that we could negotiate…'

`If you can't agree to it, then who can?' I asked.

`Huh, ah Mr. Del Rizzo I guess, he owns 85% of the business.'

`We can wait while you get him on the phone.'

`OK, but he's not going to like this', he replied disgustedly as he picked up the receiver and dialed. His conversation was muffled behind his hand, but the sweat on his forehead made it clear that things weren't going his way. When he put the phone back in its cradle his hand faltered and it took him two tries to get it right. He looked up at me from behind his pale complexion and said, `Ah, Mr. Rizzo has agreed to your request and he told me to thank you for kindness. He'll have a copy of the revised document ready for you signature delivered to your dressing room.'

I nodded, rose and turned to leave. Looking over my shoulder I asked, `He thanked me for my kindness? Why?'

The man looked beaten when he replied in a tight voice, `For having to deal with me.'

Turning back I asked, `Can I use your phone?'

`Sure, why the hell not', he said pushing it towards me.

Picking up the receiver I hit the re-dial button. `Mr. Rizzo I just wanted to call and thank you myself for all your help. Danny had been such a lovely host, but when we reached our little impasse he said that you were the true power in this organization and that only you could make that type of decision. So I apologize from dragging you away from your important work, but I just had to thank both you and Danny for all your support.' He spoke a few words to me and asked that I put on Mr. DeNoto, so I handed the phone to him.

`Yes, Mr. Rizzo. Of course Mr. Rizzo. Thank you Mr. Rizzo.' When he put the receiver down he had a funny look on his face. `Thank you… thank you Ms. Glasser, that was really good of you.' He pulled himself together as I nodded and turned towards the door. `I'll have Marcy run down that agreement as soon as it arrives.'

Once we left the room, I looked over to Greg and asked diffidently, `Was that alright?'

`Darling, that was perfect!' He answered as he put his arm around my shoulders.

`But I just ripped that man apart back there, I don't think that that is in the female submissive handbook!' I said in a soft, yet questioning voice.

`Oh, my, my, my', he said with a laugh, `so you are still trying to figure out what the rules of your new role are, eh?' At my nod of agreement he continued. `Suffice it to say that if I don't tell you not to do something that you are allowed to do it. However since you seem to want more clarification suppose I start by asking you a few questions.' I nodded again and he proceeded.

`At work do you expect me to over-rule your decisions?'

`No. Not unless you thought I was doing something that wasn't in the best interest of the company.'

`Would you expect me to berate you for putting an errant male worker in his place if he was working for you?'

`I think that I am getting your meaning… what happens outside of our sexual relationship is not your concern, correct?'

`Correct as far as being your Master goes! However as your lover I was very proud of how you handled yourself in there and as for you handing that stupid idiot his head… to bad for him, he deserved it. But that little finishing touch of making him grateful to you was sheer genius. The last thing we needed was for him to start stacking the deck against us to get back at you.'

Once I realized how open he was to discussing our roles I continued to ask questions throughout the evening. Slowly but surely all of the gray areas that had plagued me for so long became more defined. At first Greg was a bit perturbed by all of my requests for clarification, but when he realized that I was as much a "type A" personality as he and that my goal was to be the most perfect submissive possible his attitude took a huge shift. He became the wonderfully thoughtful teacher listening to my every question and than discussing them point by point with me. Even when we lay down to sleep that evening we talked until finally all of the questions that I could think of had been answered.

`You know with all of these little nuances to our roles you would think someone would have written a rule book!' Greg looked at me incredulously. `You know what I mean like a golf hand book that tells you how to swing the club on an up hill lie…'

Greg laughed out loud at the thought, but sobered when he saw my hurt expression. `It's an interesting idea baby, but I think that the problem would be that every Masters expectations might be different. I've told you what I want. What my father wants of Cassy or what Mike Thatcher wants of Samantha may be two totally different things.' I nodded my head as I began to understand the dilemma. `To make it even more complicated this is what I want today and it is entirely possible that this may change as our relationship grows.'

Wrapping his arm about me, he drew me into the spoon of his body, as he whispered softly into my ear, `I love you both for the person that you are and the submissive that you have become to please me. I see your worry that things may change, but I promise you it will only be for the better as we become closer and closer to becoming one. Now sleep beautiful one so that you are well rested for tomorrow's event!' He kissed my hair and I fell off to sleep with the happy thought of the two of us becoming one.

Walking into the event on Wednesday I couldn't help but feel totally elated. This was my favorite event and I couldn't stop myself from feeling excited that it had finally arrived. My mood was heightened even further by the life size cardboard cut out picture of me at the runway event standing in the middle of the lobby. There I was in my tight red corset, standing tiptoe in my useless high heels, while swing bells hung from my nipples. I knew that it was impossible, but the way the photographer had caught me the dimples caused by the gag made it look as if I were smiling.

Seeing Karen waiting outside the door of my dressing room was the cherry on top of my ice cream sundae. `How are the burns?' I asked her as we hugged.

Drawing back from me she opened her robe to show off her bikini clad body and her still angry red thighs. `I have enough aloe on these puppies to grease a fleet of New York taxis! So at the moment I'm feeling just fine!' She looked up at me and asked, `how are you doing?' Her eyes were piercing and it was as if she could see my uneasiness as clearly as if I had plastered a sign on my chest.

`I'm actually kind of excited', I answered slowly and than thought that I shouldn't sound overly confident, `but I'm a little scared at being singled out as the number one target.'

Karen gave her hearty belly laugh before replying, `Darlin' that is the most normal thing you have done so far in this competition! Of course you're nervous, you're the new sheriff in town and everyone is gunning for you. But don't you worry honey, because I'm going to be you faithful deputy standing right by your side so you don't ever have to worry about being alone.'

Tears of gratitude began to well in my eyes as I wrapped her in a hug. `Now don't think that I'm being all altruistic on you here honey, as I'm the most realistic cuss you are ever likely to meet! The way I see it is that there is no chance in the world for me to be the winner. Let's face it, I'm past my prime and that's going to show more and more WHEN WE get to the finals. But if it weren't for you darlin' I wouldn't even be looking at a chance to make it into the finals and in all honesty that has always been Tom and my dream. So you might just say that I still have to pay you back for saving my ass… literally!'

I didn't know what to say but Greg stepped in to fill the gap, `Sounds like a great plan to me. You've got to admit that my little lady is like a lightening rod out there and where there is lightening there is fire which is what is making you two ladies red hot properties!'

`Thanks for reminding me of my ass again Greg, but it's high time that we start planning our strategy together!' With that we all gathered round the computer and discussed the upcoming event. There were now only thirty-eight contestants left with the meat grinder taking another ten down in the lava walk event. Looking at it mathematically only the top twenty had any probability of winning their way into the final six. So it all came down to not making any critical mistakes in my case and in Karen's she had to also outshine the others.

Tom added, `Karen has a very high pain tolerance so our basic plan was to simply have her take the punishment and keep on smiling. However, with the damage done to her rump that's not going to be as easy as we had anticipated.'

Greg looked at me and asked, `How do you feel about covering Karen's ass again?'

My smile grew larger than my face as I asked, `Just what did you have in mind?'

Tom and Karen started to say something and Greg shushed them both and then said, `Here's the plan.'

The Gauntlet was simply two columns of women set into boxes two feet by four feet long outlined on the floor with colored masking tape. The two sets ran perpendicular to each other with only four feet separating them to form the aisle that was the gauntlet. All of the remaining contestants would line up one across from the other to fill 18 boxes on each side. The two ladies at the mouth of the Gauntlet would put down their whips or paddles and then would have there wrist restraints attached to their collars before they were sent down the path.

The object was to make it through the seventeen pairs of whips, without stumbling and while doing your best to keep a smile plastered on your faces. Just looking at the layout of the boxes was intimidating. In each alternating box a paddle or a whip was waiting on the floor, just aching to be used. Worse yet the box opposite to its companion in the aisle always had the opposite implement, which meant that while one contestant was going for your front with the whip the other was going for the rear with the paddle.

The paddle was a nasty thing, which was made to look like a cricket bat. The dimensions were about correct with the total length a bit longer than two feet and the blade being eighteen inches long and three inches wide, but that was were the likeness stopped. The blade itself was a flat piece of heavily lacquered wood with holes drilled in it in a checkerboard pattern. From the side it looked more like a spatula, this would have reassured me somewhat if I hadn't already felt the sting of this little item which with it holes disallowed even a cushion of air for protection

The whip was one I was well acquainted with, as it was a product that Leather and Lace sold and Stanton & Sons produced. It was one of Greg's favorites with its longish handle and its multiple braided eighteen inch leather tongs. The good news was that this was what was referred to a medium whip, which meant that the tongs weren't quite as long or heavy as its big brother and most importantly the ends weren't knotted. The bad news was that having a dozen braided leather straps slamming into your unprotected breasts or stomach was not a pleasant sensation… to some at least.

I knew that my own personal experiences with the whip could often be quite different than the torture that some might expect. Greg often used the whip while I was bound helplessly to our bed and his desire was not simply to punish me. Far from it he was rewarding me!

For instance I would be bound, gagged and blindfolded spread eagle upon my big four-poster dressed in the sexy lingerie of his choice. To this he would add a few choice items like a vibrating egg shoved into my vagina and perhaps a pair of overly tight nipple clamps that he would tie painfully to the tops of the tall posts of the headboard. He would then begin to play with my clit, perhaps with his fingers or other times with a vibrator but his passion to make me cum was very clear. Ah, but I had to pay for my pleasure and he would remind of this often. The crop would strike me at the top of my thighs just above my garter belted stockings, causing me to cry out helplessly into my gag. He would order me to point my toes in my slippers or heels or to hump the vibrator faster and this would cause me to focus on those things, even for a short time. All of these things were used to keep me from focusing on the one thing that I wanted most and that of course was to cum. This forced my climaxes to build and slow, build and slow, build and slow… until I could think of nothing else but my final climax. It was then that each strike of the lash and each painful twist of my nipples transcended pain and became pure excitement traveling down into my loins like wildfire.

This was the state that I sought to replicate before I strode down through the gauntlet of angry vixens! Lucinda worked with me on this relentlessly, chasing me about with the whip, paddle or even her favorite crop while she had Greg ran through a litany of wonderful things that he was going to do with my quivering flesh once he got his hands on me again. Greg had continued describing exactly what he was doing to me during our sexual bondage sessions and with me blinded this worked even better to bind the litany of love into my mind. It had gotten to the point that I merely had to close my eyes while I walked to hear his voice in my ears. His tone would become more and more intense as my orgasm grew. So despite the intimidating air of the event, I felt more confident than ever that this was one area that I could excel in.

In my six-inch high heel sandals, which featured crossing straps across the instep and an ankle strap I felt very confident in my stride while Karen and I were escorted to our respective boxes across from each other. The crowd exploded with noise. Whistles, catcalls and finally my name being chanted overwhelmed even the MC as he introduced each of the ladies. I took full advantage of my heavy satin push-up bra to thrust out my chest and show off my very feminine curves. Add to that a straight legged bent at the waist pose with me throwing kisses to the audience and I soon had them in the palm of my hand. As the MC called for quiet over the PA and the applause receded I waved to the crowd and smiled my best smile and then gave them a few more Betty Boop type poster poses until I had them cheering again.

This is not to say that some of the other contestants didn't get exactly the same reaction, as this was the one event that allowed the contestants the freedom to really bond with the crowd. In fact a few of them that were well-known favorites that often brought audience to standing ovations!

It was an intoxicating feeling to know that you were the focus of so much attention, yet even more satisfying was the smiles of approval that I was being graced with by my Master. I picked up the paddle at my feet and waved it at him. He mimed bending over and spanking his own ass and I laughed as I followed his led. The camera flashes came hot and heavy which was just fine by me. Giving the photographers plenty of good shots meant that my pictures would be plastered all over the net yielding L&L a ton of free publicity!

`Contestants numbers one and four please take your places at the beginning of the gauntlet', the PA intoned after the MC had finished his introductions. A tall blond named Clarissa was number one, who even without her heels would have dwarfed the little Japanese Tamoko. Tamoko, even with the six inch heels, head only barely reached the blonds breasts and her slim body and short hair made her look more like a boy than a girl. Clarissa on the other hand was muscular yet at the same time a bit on the heavy side, but I doubt that her Master minded as much of her extra weight was carried in her huge chest.

Attendants quickly secured their wrist restraints to their collars, while making sure that all of the buckles were tight with no chance of them coming loose. Soon they were ready and Clarissa was lined up at the starting gate. Tamoko was slightly behind her and would be held back for ten seconds until the attendants would let her through the gate.

Clarissa shook her deeply tanned body to loosen the muscles and tested her mules to make sure they were comfortable. Wearing mules with such a high heel seemed incredible to me, yet her California look seemed to suggest that she wore this sort of outfit on a daily basis. This would certainly account for why she was so comfortable in her outrageous sandals.

The bell rang and she was off. Clarissa was an old hand at this and refused to bolt out of the starting gate, this wasn't a race and she knew it. With a steady stride she started down the gauntlet. She kept her smile even after the first blow from a whip lashed her double "D" chest. The paddles flew slamming her cheeks till they turned bright red and the repeated whipping of her chest was turning the red lines white. Twice she faltered as a wicked paddle stroke pushed her forward, but she quickly regained her stride and finished with a tight smile still gracing her face.

Tamoko wasn't as fortunate. She bolted out of the gate like a startled fawn and her running like stride left her an easy mark for the veteran paddlers. She hadn't even made it three boxes before one of the contestants felled her like a tiny sapling. Undaunted she scrambled back to her feet. Still not learning her lesson she ran to catch up. This caught a few of the ladies off guard, but the pair before Karen and I would get our chance found her measure to disastrous effect. The paddle caught her only on one cheek, but the weight of the blow was enough to turn her half around making it impossible not to fall over her high heeled pumps. The whip, whistling through the air that had been aimed at her chest slammed right into her face as she fell to the floor. Tomoko let out a piercing scream as the whip cut at her mouth and cheeks splitting her lip in a number of places. Crying she got up shakily to her feet right in between Karen and I. The crowd began to yell for us to hit her as if this was a Roman coliseum and they were baying for the poor Christians blood. I swung my paddle half-heartedly and even this light blow almost knocked her down again. The good news was it also got her moving and she passed on out of our reach. I was shouting encouragement to her as she continued down the path like a pinball in a machine gone wild. But a quarter of the way from the finish she received a perfect one-two punch, where the paddle caught her just below the hips as the whip hit her right in the chest. Her meager chest was already bleeding from the punishment that she had taken so she must have leaned back to avoid the blow, this combined with the double slam knocked her onto her back and that was just to much for her. The tears poured down her face, but she refused to cry out again as she rolled herself into a ball for protection from any further blows.

Despite the crowd braying for the beating to continue, the contestants all just stood back and waited until two attendants came to pick her up and help her off the course. I couldn't help but wonder if the shock of yesterdays ruling, regarding what I liked to think of as good sportsmanship, make them hold their blows. Of course it might simply be that they were protecting themselves from payback from this very eliminated contestant. You see there were no eliminations till after the course was completed so Tomoko was helped out of her restraints and put back into the last box at the end of the left line as we all shifted back one box.

Clarissa very solid score of nine point three flashed up on the screen and the crowd roared with approval. Reaching across the lane, the tall blond shook Tamoko's hand obviously consoling her. She responded with a deep bow of respect and the crowd once again voiced its approval.

The contest went on and slowly but surely Karen and I moved to the back of the lines until it was our turn to face the gauntlet.

When the bell rang for Karen start, she bowed to the audience, smiled and than burst out into song! `Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down, helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down… in the most delightful way.' In tune with the song from Mary Poppins she began to sashay down the aisle as if she were walking across her high school stage. Even the first few blows to her still tender hips didn't faze her as she slowly worked her way down the path. I laughed as I watched her go singing the only tune that she was sure that she could remember as she had sang it to her children more times than she could count. This was all a part of the great plan that we had derived and my way to make sure that her back was protected.

The attendant watching the time shouted, "go" as the ten-second mark passed. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes for a second and centered myself on Greg's sexy voice than I stepped off at a good pace. The blows came and I soaked them up like a sponge, smiling all the wider as I imagined Greg playing with my clit and twisting my nipples. With seemingly no effort what so ever I caught up with Karen until we were only a yard apart. This forced the contestants to often decide whether to hit Karen at all or try to get in two strokes on me. Knocking off number one was too big of an opportunity for most of them and more and more shots were directed my way.

Closing my eyes I let the sound of Karen's voice direct me while I slid into my head and let Greg's litany of love overtake me. Soon I was moaning not in pain but in excitement as the wildfire effect began to take hold of me. Oh, God yes, a whip lashed my breasts and just caught my nipple and the lightening flowed into my cunny. A heavy blow to my hips sent me up on tiptoe, but I simply danced forward in my perfectly secured sandals just like the ballerina that I had once been.

`That felt so good, didn't it baby' Greg whispered in my ear and I shouted out `Yes, Master' as a huge smile filled my face. A blow of the whip to my stomach was like multiple lines of fire, but Greg's voice egging me on and telling me how much I loved it, turned the fire into sizzling excitement. `Yes, yes, please more' I cried.

`Tell me how much you want it baby', Greg's voice said softly in my mind as the rain of blows came thicker and heavier.

`Hmm, yes, thank you Master may I have another', I replied breathily, `another… another… oh, yes, another… oh, thank you Master for hitting my cunny… it aches for your touch… oh, yes thank you Master!'

`Will you come for me if I whip your little cunny?' Greg asked softly.

`Oh, yes Master, please hit my cunny…. Please, please…' I begged piteously. The whips shifted there target and more and more strokes made it between my legs. The blades wrapped around my thighs leaving just the dangerous tips to lick my lips. `Oh, yes, yes, yes…'

…and your out' was the last thing the I heard. It was the phrase that I had been trained with over and over. It was the end where I could let myself go. I felt strong arms encircle me and I slumped into them and let the orgasm that had been building for the last hundred feet burst forth as I cried out in ecstasy, `YES!'

I felt myself lowered to the floor as my hips bucked to the unleashed tsunami. A blanket was thrown over my body and then Greg's hand was down between my legs bringing me from one peak of excitement to the next. I don't know how long he played with me, but as my orgasms finally ebbed, I opened my eyes to see him smiling brightly.

`Thank you Master that was wonderful', I intoned with pure adoration in my voice.

Flash after flash caught me unaware making me wince from the bright lights as the photographers captured it all on film. I smiled to the crowd as Greg helped me back to my feet and then turned when I heard my own breathy voice behind me. `… And here it is again' the announcer said, as the huge screen dissolved to a close up of Greg supporting me while the blanket covering my waist rose and fell with my hips. His flying fingers could be seen as a tent in the wool directly above my gyrating vagina. My eyes were closed and the excitement on my face was easy to see as my hand clenched the corner of the blanket into a knot pulling it away from my breasts. The camera zoomed in on the angry red lines that resembled an insane road map across my chest as it rose and fell to my labored breathing. My final climax was incredible to behold as I bucked like a wild thing and called out, `Yes Master, Thank you Master' over and over again as I came. I finally lay still with a sated look upon my face until slowly my eyes opened and I said in a very husky breathy voice, `Thank you Master that was wonderful'.

The camera zoomed back to the MC, `that was absolutely incredible ladies and gentlemen! Once again baby and her Master Greg, our Leather and Lace representatives have pulled off an absolutely amazing run the likes of which has never been seen before. Let's just take another look at that run on instant replay…'

It was at that point that the crowd exploded in pandemonium as the scores appeared up on the big screen. I smiled in satisfaction as the ten point zero went up on the board next to my name and began to flash. Then I found myself screaming and jumping up and down as Karen's name was followed by a glowing nine point eight! Karen and Tom came over and we all hugged each other, with Karen and I continuing to jump up and down in glee.

An attendant came over and cleared his throat to make himself heard, but it took a yell from him to get through our elation, `Ladies, we are going to be starting up again in just a few minutes and we need you to take your places.' Oh, darn! That right we still had half of the event to go through to finish the gauntlet.

Karen started back over to her box and picked up her paddle. I gave Greg one more hug before I did the same. The camera followed us back to our boxes and then the crowd began a low rumbling chant, `…baby… baby… baby… baby…'. I curtsied to the crowd, which is quite a chore in six-inch heels, yet my smile knew no bounds. The camera zoomed in on the wet stain on my bikini bottoms, and I laughed out loud as I waved to the crowd. Then turning to Greg I pointed between my legs, then curtsied to him and yelled, `Thank you Master.' The crowd roared its approval until the MC called for quiet so that the event could continue. But none of that mattered. Karen and I had made it into the finals; Greg was beaming his love and approval at me with every glance, so everything was perfect with my world! Leather & Lace - 1