Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire

This was my first story, which I wrote a few years back. It was substandard back
then and I posted it only once soewhere else. It stayed on my floppy gathering
bit dust until a fine Lady helped me put it into shape. This is the result.

At the end of the story is a "Addendum?". The question mark represents a
possible sequel if you the reader deams it worthy of one. Ms Gray and I have
discussed one, but only briefly and not until the fall. The Addendum tells the
path it will take if it comes to fruit. You can write Ms. Gray at the following
address with your comments, anngray@rogers.com

I am sorry to say that "'Tis the Season" will not resume until this winter. I
lost the Xmas spirit and I find it hard to write the story without it. My
apologies to the readers.

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 1)


                         "Into the Frying Pan"


Have you ever had a boyfriend you just couldn't dump? I have.

His name is Paul. He was a blind date set up by a friend, who knew a
friend, who had a buddy, etc. Anyway, we went out a few times, had sex
"once" and that's all I needed to know. He simply isn't what I'm looking
for. He's a nice guy and all, fairly good looking, caring personality, ok
in bed. The chemistry JUST isn't there. Plus the fact, he's looking for a
stay at home kind of gal with lots of kids, which is definitely not me! So
I told him. "You're a nice guy, but I'm not interested. Good luck and good
bye."

For some reason he didn't get it. I think he was hooked on me, infatuated,
a crush, whatever. In a way, I can't blame him though. I don't like to
brag, but truth be known I am quite an attractive woman. Many people, both
men and women, have told me so. I'm in my early 20's, average height and
weight, great figure, long dark hair and soft feminine features. A really
good looking woman, with brains to match. I have a BA degree from an Ivy
League college.

I also have a good start on my career, working for a large prestigious
corporation. With my education and current business experience, I have one
fantastic future ahead of me. Especially with my current position. I am
working as a personal assistant to a Ms. Katherine Sloan and she is one
powerhouse of a female executive.

Ms. Sloan is quite the business woman too. She must be in her 50's, but
looks just thirtyish. She is attractive, in a demure kind of way. She
dresses in well-tailored business suits that down play her femininity, but
enhance her corporate aura. She started with the company when she left high
school and has consistently moved up the ladder to her present position. A
few years ago she was promoted to associate vice president and became the
first woman to break the glass ceiling in this company. She is quite a
woman and a great role model for me.

One day, she walked into the office to find Paul and myself in one of our
on going arguments. I wanted him out of my life while he wanted me to be
back in his, forever! Ms. Sloan knew a little of my predicament with Paul
from some short conversations we had together. Ms. Sloan is so easy to talk
to about anything.

I guess Ms. Sloan was as fed up with Paul as I was. That's when she decided
to take the situation into her own hands. She can be very aggressive at
times. A regular take charge kind of woman. And at that point and time, I
could use all the help I could get.

She walked up next to me and in a rather perturbed dominating tone said to
Paul, "Young man, why do you continue to bother Ms. Jenson? Has she not
told you over and over again that she is NOT interest in continuing a
relationship with you? She does not like you. She has no desire to be with
you. And she wants you to leave her alone. Why do you fail to understand
this, YOUNG MAN!" The last part she said with a very direct commanding
voice that sent a chill down my own spine.

Such words would have forced any normal guy back into reality, but not
Paul. He just continued telling Ms. Sloan what he repeatedly told me. How
we were truly right for one another. How much in love he was with me. And
if I would only give our relationship a little more time then I too would
see how we were destined to live happily ever after together. Oh I heard it
all before, so many times. Now Ms. Sloan could hear it for herself, in the
first person, what I had already told her in bits and pieces.

Paul continued his rambling romantic tale when Ms. Sloan motioned for him
to stop with her hand. He did. She then told him that there was another
reason, a more important reason why I wanted him out of my life. With that
Ms. Sloan did something that caught me completely off guard.

She grabbed my face in her hands and gave me one heck of a French kiss.

I was taken fully by surprise. I never expected her to do this. I mean, I
wasn't even remotely gay and, as far as I knew, neither was she. I felt her
lips overlaping and massaging mine. Her tongue probing deeply into my
mouth exploring every inch of my sensitive orifice and playing, teasingly,
with my own shocked tongue. It felt a little exciting, but mostly, well . .
. . yucky!

Her oral rape of me felt like it lasted for hours, but only a minute or two
later she finally broke the kiss. I stood there dumb founded. I couldn't
believe what just happened. Ms. Sloan was talking again to Paul, but all I
heard was small parts of it since I was so far out of it at the time. She
told him that I was hers, that I was in love with her and that I longed to
be with her every second of the day. What HE had to offer was in no way
comparable, or for that matter even remotely satisfying compared to what
SHE gave me. She then told him to leave and pointed to the door.

Paul was flabbergasted. He stared at me for a second or two. His eyes seem
to be glassy, almost teary. He hung his head in despair, turned and walked
out.

Ms. Sloan turned to me, smiling, and said, "There you go my dear that
should fix things for you. Oh, I am sorry if I shocked you, but your
boyfriend, I mean your EX-boyfriend, needed some evidence of the physical
kind to convince him that you meant business. I hope you didn't mind me
getting involved in your antagonistic situation Beth?"

I started to shake my head no, but Ms. Sloan then cupped my chin in her
hand, took a tissue off the desk and proceeded to wipe around my lips. She
said in a motherly tone, "Let me wipe off the smeared lipstick for you my
dear. Afterwords, you can go and freshen up in my private ladies room if
you wish. Then we can both get back to work knowing that your "man problem"
has been solved for good and all."

It seemed like she took an unnecessary amount of time gently wiping,
perhaps even fondling, my lips like she did. Again, it made me feel uneasy.

Later, when I was alone in her private restroom, I could not help but
wonder why she put so much inference on the phrase "man problem". It's as
if she could read my future or something. I don't know. Maybe I was just
too out of it to think clearly at the time. Anyway, I freshened myself up
and returned to Ms. Sloan's office and we finished the day as if nothing
had happened.

Time passed and it looked like Ms. Sloan's faked lesbian scene worked. A
whole week went by and I heard nothing from Paul. I felt free! In fact, I
thought about getting involved with a good looking guy I kept seeing riding
in the elevator to work in the morning. But then it happened.

Ms. Sloan called me into her office and showed me a letter she received. It
was from Paul. In it he said how our lesbian relationship was all a put on
for his benefit. We were not even remotely homosexual or bi because for the
last week he had been following me around and never once seen us together.
He also said this made him even more determined to win me over, and if he
could not have me, no one would!

I couldn't believe it. I was being stalked by some crazy man who would kill
me if I didn't become his wife. The long, ongoing situation and now threat
became just too much for me. I started to cry right there in Ms. Sloan's
office.

Katherine came and hugged me. She comforted me like a mom and kept telling
me that it would all be ok. It helped. I started to regain my composure and
Katherine wiped my tears away with a tissue. She was very gentle with me,
holding me close with my head resting on her breasts, stroking my hair and
caressing the side of my face. I was comforted by her compassion. She then
raised my chin in her hand, looked straight into my eyes and asked me if I
trusted her?

I had no reason not to. Besides, I was in an emotionally vulnerable state
and she was my mentor and now best friend. So with teary eyes I nodded yes.

She said good and that everything will be all right. She was going to take
care of everything. All I had to do was simply trust her. She then smiled
at me and wiped the last tear from my cheek. She kissed me, quickly on the
lips, and told me to go home early and get some rest.

I thanked her and left to go to my apartment. I was feeling better because
I didn't feel alone anymore. Now I had someone who could actually help me
through this. After all, I trusted her. I had hope.

When I got home my high hopes were dashed to the ground. I had a mailbox
full of letters addressed to me from Paul, some with the name of Mrs. Beth
Couts on it, Paul's last name. My answering machine was full of messages
from Paul telling me to call him. That he had forgiven my trick on him with
Ms. Sloan and that it was him I should be kissing not my fictitious lesbian
lover.

This was too much. I lost it again and called Ms. Sloan. She immediately
told me to lock the door and she would be there as soon as possible. I was
going to stay with her that night.

Well, that one night turned into me moving in with her. This was all part
of Ms. Sloan's plan though. By moving in with her I would be sending
another message to Paul that I was truly a lesbian now and Katherine was my
sole lover. I wasn't too keen on the idea of me, us, continuing the lesbian
plan, but Ms. Sloan reassured me this was the best way. Again, I trusted
her.

Ms. Sloan had a very large and extremely well furnished apartment in a city
high rise. Her status in the corporation gave her the money to live a very
elegant lifestyle. She had plenty of room for me, but considering how well
furnished everything was I ended up putting all my stuff in storage. Even
my car went in storage since from now on I was going to ride to work with
Ms. Sloan. All I really needed was a few personal things and my wardrobe.

Again, another week had passed and I, we, heard nothing from Paul.

We seemed to get along pretty well together. At work we were all formal and
business, while at home we were like great girlfriends, roommates that got
along very well with each other. Well, I did make an effort to get along
more so than Katherine. I mean, after all, it was her home and all, and she
was doing me a fantastic favor. So why not bend with the wind if need be.
It's not like it was going to last forever. Then it happened again.

Ms. Sloan received a big brown envelope in the mail. It was addressed to
"The Pretenders". She opened it up and it was full of pictures. Pictures of
me, of Ms. Sloan and the two of us together in a wide variety of
situations. Sitting in her car at a stop-light, walking down a sidewalk,
laughing together in a restaurant. I just didn't get it until I read the
accompanying note. The message was short, but its point was clearly made.
It said, "Lesbian lovers, or just good friends--pretending to be lovers?"
and it was signed "Paul, the MAN who loves you and will one day marry you!"

This time I was angry. Ms. Sloan's plan was not working. He was now
stalking me, us, throughout our entire lives. I started to yell calling
Paul all sorts of names, and even tore up a few of those damn pictures.
Katherine was just watching me, not saying anything. I looked at her quiet
repose and said forcefully that we should go to the police and have that
son of a bitch arrested and locked up!

She just smiled at me. She came up next to me and gave me a big sisterly
hug. I was angry and tried to break free, but she was older, bigger and
stronger than me and kept on holding me close to her. It felt good. My
anger dissolved and I began to cry again. She consoled me. She said I could
go to the police, but all they would do would be to warn him off. I could
get a restraining order for him to stay away, but Paul was too infatuated
with me for that to last any length of time.

I asked her what I should do since her lesbian lover plan wasn't working.
Ms. Sloan said the plan was a good one and will eventually work, but we
needed to raise it up another level. We needed to send him an even stronger
message that our relationship was, in fact, real after all.

I didn't like the sound of that. I mean, I'm not a lesbian! Again, I told
her that I liked men not women. She just chuckled and told me she liked men
too, but sometimes in life, and the business world, one must go out on a
limb to get what one wants. She said that I was a very capable employee and
good friend. She also said, forcefully, that she had no intention of losing
either one, especially to some crazy man.

Her words of praise and confidence made me feel much better. I hugged her
back. Once more she asked me if I trusted her. And once more I said yes
with all the commitment I could muster. Her confidence was contagious.

We broke our hug. She kissed me on the lips again, a little longer this
time. I still felt funny about her kissing me on the lips, but under the
circumstances I could learn to tolerate it, for a short while anyway.

She told me to get myself ready for we were going out. I asked where but
all she did was smile and said it was all part of her NEW plan and it would
be a wonderful surprise for me. At this point, I was game for anything.
With Ms. Sloan as my leader, anything was possible. After all, I trusted
her implicitly.

***************************************************************************


"Ms. Sloan, I don't know about this. This new look you gave me, this make-
over is definitely not me." Once again I was becoming very doubtful of Ms.
Sloan's NEW plan, especially now with this latest strategy.

We were back at her apartment and I was looking at myself in a full-length
mirror. Or at least I thought it was me.

The first place Katherine had taken me was to a beauty parlor for hair and
makeup. She would not let me get involved in any of the decision making.
She just told me to relax and let her and the operators do what needed to
be done. I tried to relax. but with what I felt and heard around me it was
very hard to do.

I could tell that my long dark hair was being cut short and I had tried to
say something, but Ms. Sloan and the operators were ignoring me as if I was
some annoying little kid. And when Ms. Sloan did talk to me she just
reaffirmed what she said earlier--relax, all is going as planned, just
trust me, you are going to look great! So I sat there, waiting for these
unnerving improvements to be over with.

When the makeup lady was done, my makeup felt kind of on the heavy side as
if I was going out for a romantic night on the town. But whatever she did,
she must of made me look really good considering all the smiling faces and
ouuu's and ahhh's I was getting from everyone. At this point I was feeling
pretty good and began to think that maybe Ms. Sloan was right after all.

After the make over at the beauty shop, she still would not allow me to see
myself yet. Ms. Sloan then took me to a boutique and had me try on several
outfits. Again, I wasn't allowed to look at myself in the mirror as I tried
on each set of clothes and matching shoes that Ms. Sloan told me. But from
the look and feel of them they definitely oozed sexuality, almost down
right obscene, at least for a woman of my conservative background.

Ms. Sloan finally had me wear one of the outfits home and had the rest of
them delivered. I thought people were staring at me because I had a little
problem walking in those darn four inch high heels she had me wear, but
now, looking in the mirror, I knew that wasn't so.

On my feet was a pair of shiny black high heels with a narrow ankle strap.
My legs were clad in shear black nylons with a design that coiled around my
legs and ended up under my skirt close to my frilly black panties. I wore a
skirt that was made from the softest of black leather and came down to just
above my knees. It was molded so tightly around my legs and hips that I
couldn't take a full normal step. The skirt and heels together made me take
small baby steps and caused me to roll my hips quite seductively.

Upon my torso I wore a bright red long sleeved silk blouse. It too fitted
to my curves exactly. My C cup breasts were well defined by the straining
grasp of the fabric around them. The blouse had a frilly open V neck which
showed plenty of cleavage that was made even deeper by the black laced
wonder bra underneath it. A wide glossy black belt with a shiny gold buckle
was pulled very tight around my waist, accentuating my new hourglass shape.
My hair was dyed a platinum blonde and styled in a short, bouncy, wavy
fashion. My makeup was nothing short of vampish, with wide bright eyes and
full cherry red lips. A pair of long slinky gold earrings and a gold
necklace was added and my entire look was blatantly sexual. Definitely
sexy, but not really tartish if you know what I mean.

Katherine came up behind me and gently squeezed my shoulders. She was
looking at my reflection, smiling and whispering in my ear how good I
looked.

"Why do I have to look like this? This is just not me!" I said with some
assertiveness in hopes she would see that this was not a really good idea
after all.

"That's the whole idea Beth. It isn't you! Paul is stuck on the woman that
you used to look like. It's as if he was under some witches spell because
of how desperately he wants you. Now, if you change how you look, and act,
then he has to change how he feels about you. To this, add the fact that
you are dressing like this to please me, your supposedly lesbian lover,
remember, and he gets a double wake up call that you are not his anymore.
Do you understand now Beth, or has the blonde hair made you a bit air
headed?" Ms. Sloan smiled and giggled at the little joke she just made in
hopes of adding some humor to my current stressful situation.

"Yes, I guess that makes sense. I hope I can find something in my old
wardrobe that will work with my seductive new look." I started to smile at
the new me adding a little humor of my own.

"Oh no my dear. You mustn't do that. You are going to wear these clothes
and others like them to work as well, it's the only way."

"What?" I exclaimed, both in fear and anger, "I can't go to work looking
like this! I'll be laughed at, ridiculed and harassed to death! I look like
a street slut on the prowl for some hot office action in the copy room! My
reputation will be ruined. I can't wear these sexy clothes to work too!"

Ms. Sloan wrapped her arms around me and gave me one big hug while
explaining softly to me why I had to.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry to say that you do have to look this way in the
office. Paul has to realize that you have changed completely and willingly
for me, otherwise he will suspect it's just another trick and continue his
wooing of you unabated. And don't worry about the office personnel. No one
is going to laugh at you or call you names or perceive you in any way that
I don't want them too. Don't forget, I am a corporate executive with all
the status and power that goes with it. Someone messes with you and I can,
and will, make their life a living hell.

Don't worry Beth. I'll take care of everything.  All you have to do is play
your role in this drama and soon everything will be right with the world
once more. You still trust me, don't you?"

I felt like I had little choice any more. Ms. Sloan had all the answers.
She seemed to have planned it out skillfully, leaving no stone unturned,
just like any good corporate executive would. So what could I do? If I
wanted Paul out of my life I had to go through with it. What choice did I
have? I just smiled back at her and reluctantly agreed. She gave me another
hug then kissed my cheek and lips. Her kisses still made me feel creepy,
but again what choice did I have.

She told me to go to bed and get plenty of rest for tomorrow was going to
be a new day in both of our lives. She let me go, rubbed my arms, and just
before leaving caressed and patted my butt while saying, teasingly, good
night to her new office temptress.

I looked at my new self in the mirror and hoped this wasn't all a big
mistake.

**************************************************************************

The days passed, with each one bringing with it something different. We
kept on receiving letters, pictures and phone messages from Paul as to why
I should drop the fake lesbian act and come back to him. Then we could get
married, settle down and have lots of kids. He would be the breadwinner and
I would cook and raise the kids.

Oh it made me so angry to read that bull shit. I was not going to be a
housewife, a maid or care taker to a bunch of rug rats.

I wanted status, power and an elitist lifestyle that comes with being
a corporate executive, just like Ms. Sloan.

So the charade continued, taken up another level as Ms. Sloan put it, and
with each passing day came Paul's reminders. I went from looking like an
elegant seductress to a flamboyant bimbo tart in only one week. My clothes
became tighter, brighter and more revealing. The heels on my shoes rose
along with my hemline. I was showing so much cleavage that a couple of
times my breasts almost popped out. My hair got bigger, my makeup more
intense and my jewelry more gaudy. Not only did my looks change, but my
behavior too. Again, at the insistence of Ms. Sloan.

Ms. Sloan kept reminding me, "Look the part, play the part, be the part.
It has to look real." Not only did I have to look like some stereotype male
wet dream, but now I had to act the part too. And Ms. Sloan did her best to
help me out with plenty of practice back at her apartment.

Ms. Sloan was there for me in other ways too. At low points, when it seemed
like I just couldn't go on any more, she would add her support. She would
remind me we were just pretending, it was all an act, none of this was
real, soon it will be over and life would be good once more. It helped. So
the NEW plan continued. But it was all so humiliating for me as each day
was worse than the one before it. And it all started with my walk.

It was not enough to just walk the best I could in the now five inch heels,
which wasn't an easy task to begin with, but I had to perform a kind of
bump and grind now. Taking small steps, one foot in front of the other
while swinging and rolling my hips in a kind of strut, like some stripper
out on the catwalk. I couldn't even let my arms rest down along my side. I
had to keep them bent at the elbows with my elbows pulled in close behind
my waist. My forearms were thus forced out away from my body with my wrists
held limp. As I walked, I had to swing them from side to side as well,
along with thrusting out my quivering breasts to draw even more attention
to myself than my outlandish outfits did.

If I had to bend over, which I did several times a day, I had to keep my
legs straight and bend only at the waist. Obviously this would show off my
sexy rear end, and caused my short skirts to ride up in back exposing a
good deal of my panties and garter straps. All of which were in frilly
bright colors. Even my underwear had to be sleazy.

Ms. Sloan suggested I keep checking my makeup throughout the day. She had
me practice batting my fake long lashes, pouting my lips and raising my
voice to enhance the distinction between who I was and who I am now. I even
had to chew gum through the day with my mouth open, popping bubbles with
it. And to add insult to injury, I was to hum or quietly sing show tunes,
like "I enjoy being a Girl" or "I feel pretty, oh so pretty". It was all so
disgusting.

Early in this phase of the NEW plan Ms. Sloan's private secretary had to
leave on personal business and Katherine saw this as a positive event for
us. It took me awhile to see what she meant, but I finally saw the logic in
it. It was even a small blessing in disguise.

I was no longer Ms. Sloan's personal assistant. I was now to take the place
of her private secretary. In short, I was demoted. Even though it seemed to
be another nail in my bimbo coffin, I was still a bit relieved. Since I was
no longer her assistant, I no longer had to accompany her to meetings,
represent her with clients, or do interdepartmental relations relating to
projects and company policies. All I had to do was answer the phone, set up
her appointments, do filing, typing and make the coffee. I really didn't
have to leave her office except to use the ladies room, but that was just
down the hall. So my exposure to the rest of the office staff was kept to a
minimum. Thank goodness.

But Ms. Sloan was correct in one major point. I was still treated with
respect by the office staff, at least face to face. People would come in
who had business with Ms. Sloan and I would usher them into her office. No
name calling, laughing or derogatory remarks did I hear. Although I did get
some good long look overs from the men. The women, well, a wrinkled brow
did not go unnoticed by me, but that was the extent of it.

I could only imagine what the conversation was around the water cooler or
at lunch. "Did she go nuts!" "Why does she want to look and act like some
sex toy, or hooker?" "Why doesn't Ms. Sloan talk to her? Unless the two
have a thing for each other?" "That's funny, she sure didn't seem to be
gay." Oh yes, I think the entire office got the message, so why didn't
Paul?

Not only did my behavior change, but Ms. Sloan's too. She seemed to be
more, how shall I say it, affectionate towards me. She would call me more
by my first name, Beth, in all situations, even at work with important
people around. She also seemed to be more touchy feely with me. Not in any
overt sexual way, just friendlier with bigger hugs, massaging my back and
shoulders, gently touching the sides of my face, a small pat on my behind,
a little kiss on the cheek, and of course on my lips too. I figured it was
all part of the NEW plan so I let it all go by without bringing it up.
Even though it still made me feel nervous.

Ms. Sloan continued the drama out of the office too. At dinners, in
museums or walks in the city park, she would be dressed conservatively,
elegantly or casually as the situation dictated. I, on the other hand, was
always dressed like a hot, sexy, gum popping airhead. She would determine
where we would go, how we got there and how long we would stay. She would
lead and I would follow. Just like any good lesbian couple in the throes of
love, even though we looked like complete opposites.

Then, in the weekend mail at Ms. Sloan's apartment, it happened again. More
pictures and another note from Paul. But this time they sent me reeling in
total misery and even made Ms. Sloan go pale. The pictures, as usual, were
of us, but the background was different. They showed us, together, in Ms.
Sloan's private office and in several rooms of her apartment. How did he
get these private pictures? And the note said, "It's going to take a lot
more than a couple of girlfriends playing bimbo Barbie dress up to convince
me. Soon this whole facade will be over with and you, dear, sweet, great
love of my life Beth, soon you and I will be together. . .  forever!"

Ms. Sloan walked away from the table that had the pictures strewn all over
its top and walked to her living room window. She was quietly looking
through it to all the other tall hi-rises facing her.

I was in totally shock, the note slid from my grasp and floated to the
tabletop landing on one of those damn pictures. My mind was blank. My
emotions were in complete turmoil. I was feeling rage, fear, sadness, and
every negative emotion a human being can possibly experience all at once.
All I could do was stand there, looking dumb founded, with tears running
down my makeup streaked face.

I began mumbling to myself and then giggling. "It was all for nothing." I
said quietly without emotion. "It didn't work. He knows it was all a sham.
He can see us even when we think he can't. There is no place to hide.
Nothing else to do. I am doomed."

"No, there is one more tactic available to us." The calm voice was from Ms.
Sloan.

I continued to giggle, and then laugh almost hysterically. I couldn't
believe what she was saying. Something else we could try? I turned and
faced her, my anger coming out and misdirected at her instead of at that
son of a bitch Paul. "What the fuck do you mean something else? There is NO
something else any more Katherine."

I walked over to her and in a commanding voice that almost scared even me I
yelled at her, "Look at me! Damn it Katherine, I said look at me!" She did,
her smooth brow showing a little wrinkling at my unjust display of anger
toward her.

"I am NOT a lesbian, Katherine! I am NOT some sex starved muddled headed
BIMBO either just like those pictures clearly indicate. Your NEW plan did
not work Katherine. He has won. We have lost. Accept it! There is nothing,
NOTHING else to do. . . . I am lost." Then it hit me hard and I began
crying my heart out.

Katherine grabbed me as my legs began to give out and helped me to her
sofa. She had her arms around me in a sisterly hug. My head was resting on
her chest and her hand was gently petting my big fluffy hair.

We were rocking back and forth together as she continued to comfort me and
tell me that it will get better and please don't give up. And that there
truly was one last chance at freedom.

It took awhile, quite awhile, before I simmered down and actually listened
to what Katherine was saying. Part of me wanted to hear what she had to say
in hopes there was really one last plan of attack. But another part of me
was telling me to leave now and run away to some far off land before it was
too late.

I slowly separated myself from Katherine. My eyes puffy, my heavy makeup
all smeared about my wet face. I gathered up some tissues and tried to
clean up my face as best I could. Katherine was helping me. She gave me a
couple more tissues and told me to blow my nose, just like a mother would.
And, just like a hurt child, I did.

I took a couple deep breaths and then asked Katherine what her plan was. In
hindsight, I wished I had listened to myself. I should have left her
apartment right then and there without even asking what she had in mind.

Katherine was looking at me with sympathetic eyes. I even heard the
reluctance in her voice. She caressed the side of my face and told me of
her next and final idea.

"I was hoping, praying Beth, that it wouldn't come down to this, but Paul
is leaving us no other choice. He is a very determined man. And desperate
situations require desperate solutions. It is our last ace in the hole if
you will. I do believe, BELIEVE with my whole heart, mind and soul that
this time it WILL work! But even I must say it is very bizarre."

"More bizarre than this?" I interjected holding my arms out displaying my
current bimbo persona.

Katherine sat there looking at me with empathy for my current plight and
gently nodding her head. "Yes Beth, I'm afraid so. And it will require you
to trust me more than you have ever done before. But one thing I can
promise you. I will never betray your trust in me Beth, never."

Katherine really caught my attention with that one. My curiosity was
aroused, not to mention how much fear she had instilled in me at the same
time. I tried to sound brave and fearless, but there was some hesitation in
my voice when I asked her to simply tell me what it was she had in mind.

She said we had to take this lesbian bimbo relationship one more step
further.

I started to say how could that be possible when Ms. Sloan took her fingers
and placed them over my mouth and softly told me to hush.

"We have to enter the realm of dominance and submission Beth. I will become
your Mistress and you will become my slave. Again, it will all be make
believe, but considering how intrusive Paul can be, the relationship will
have to be round the clock, day after day after day, until Paul says no
more. There is simply no other way. I am sorry, but if you really want him
out of your life, I am sure this will do it."

She then took her fingers from my lips to reveal my stunned, open mouth
expression. For a moment I thought she was just kidding and I started to
smile at her, but the look on her face was very somber.

I began shaking my head no, this could not be right. There has to be
another way I said, but she shook her head no, regretfully. I started to
become hysterical again, but this time Katherine took hold of my arms and
shook me violently to get my attention, almost screaming at me to get a
hold of myself.

"Beth, Beth! Listen to me! LISTEN TO ME! I wasn't going to bring this up
until I was certain of the outcome, but I am going to take a chance and
tell you what is going on. I need your full attention now Beth. Do I have
it? Beth?"

I was immediately brought back to reality by the force of Katherine's
physical aggressiveness. This time I just nodded my head cautiously.

"As you know, the corporation is opening another branch office on the west
coast. A very large complex that will rival the size of the one here and I
am the board's major consideration for running that office, thus making
me a full vice president of the corporation not just head of a few
departments. Do you understand what that means Beth? When I go, I want to
take YOU with me. I want you to head the sales department there like I do
here. You will be trained and educated for that position. But I need
somebody in that position that I can trust, totally. And you fit the bill
to a "T" Beth.

But WE cannot do it if Paul is going to tag along. I will not have the time
or energy to help you, and you will certainly not have the time to do it
alone. We have to get Paul out of the picture before we leave, and time is
running out Beth. Now do you understand what is involved here? It's not
simply about getting rid of a boyfriend, it's starting a new and wonderful
career in what you love to do. Destiny is knocking at your door Beth. Are
you ready to answer it?"

I was stunned. I knew of the new branch opening up in California and that
Ms. Sloan had a good chance in getting it. But I did not know that
Katherine wanted me there too, and at that elevated position. It was like a
dream come true; status, power, a lavish lifestyle. It was all the things
that I wanted and had hoped for. And it was being laid down at my feet.
Somehow my dilemma with Paul seemed almost trivial now. The brass ring was
before me. All I had to do was follow my mentor through the depths of hell
and we would both come out on the other side into the promised land flowing
with milk and honey. It all came down to a single word, did I TRUST her.

I swallowed hard and looked at Katherine again. Did I trust her? Did I
really and truly trust her? I liked her, a lot. She was intelligent,
organized, a good planner, shrewd and very business like. I was inspired
and motivated by her personality, heck she was my mentor, my role model for
goodness sakes! And in the past few weeks, a very good friend as well. But
did I trust her enough to become her lesbian bimbo slave girl, even if it
was all make believe? That thought alone made my skin crawl. It went
against everything that I believed in, both as a person of equality and as
a sensuous heterosexual woman.

But still, my dream of a high corporate position, getting rid of that ass
hole Paul, and if I did this "pretend" Mistress/slave scene, I could not
think of a better person to do it with other than Ms. Sloan.

Again, I swallowed hard. I looked right into the compassionate eyes of
Katherine and said, "To get Paul out of my life, and for the new corporate
position, I will PLAY the part of your slave Katherine." I had said it, and
still I couldn't believe that I did. All that I could hope for now, was for
this melodrama to end quickly.

We took each other in our arms and had one long hug. Somehow I felt a deep
kinship with Ms. Sloan, as if we were part of some special sisterhood.
Together we stand and divided we fall. Once this farce with Paul was over
with, I just knew that we would be life long friends and mutually
beneficial business partners.

I asked Katherine if she knew anything about this domination/submission,
kinky sex thing. I had very limited exposure to it, other than as a kid
when we would play hero/damsel in distress games and such. She said that
she had some experience in her early years. Back then, there was no such
thing as office harassment policies. Women in the business sector had to
put up with a lot of overt dominant and sexual behavior from men. So to
some extent that could be considered a form of domination & submission.

Plus, back then, she had a few boyfriends who had an interest in that area
and she played along with them because of her love for them. And then there
was the fact that she was young and had a desire to experiment in new and
exciting things like that. But as she moved up the ladder she lost interest
in those types of guys and that genre as a whole.

Katherine said she would do some research and contact some old friends who
were still into that sort of thing. But if memory served, it seemed like
everything depended on the dominant as to what happened. The sub, short for
submissive, really had only one thing to do. The sub always had to obey the
Dom, or dominant, in all things. No matter what the Dom wanted.

So my part in her NEW and IMPROVED plan was simply to obey her, following
her instructions blindly. Which in a way is what I have been doing all
along. Katherine's job was to set up everything else. She was both actress
and scriptwriter. I was simply an actress reading my lines and doing what
was laid down for me, not allowed to change the script or offer suggestions
in any way, shape or form. I guess this is what trust is all about.


***************************************************************************

Part 2 - "Turning up the Heat" coming real soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 2)


                        "Turning up the Heat"


Beth stared at her reflection in the highly polished surface of the
elevator door. She could not believe how her life had changed in the last
month, or even more so in the last two weeks. Ever since she agreed to
become her boss's, now Mistress Katherine, pretend slave and lesbian lover,
nothing was the same. She remembered that Saturday night as if it was
yesterday.

Ms. Sloan had offered her a last resort idea to finally get rid of Paul. At
the same time she told Beth of a new high ranking position on the West
Coast awaiting her, but only if they got rid of Paul. Since then, life had
been a blur around her. She did remember bits and pieces of it, even though
she wished she couldn't.

Beth had woken up that Sunday morning to discover a note from Katherine. It
said that she would be gone Sunday and most of Monday. Beth was to relax on
Sunday, go to work as usual on Monday and then that evening they would meet
at the apartment when she returned. The disturbing part was that the note
was signed "Your Mistress Katherine." It sent a chill down Beth's spine
when she read that. And right below the signature was a little "happy
face." Beth felt slightly better seeing that, which confirmed to her that
this was still all an act to regain her liberty.

It was ironic in a way. To regain her freedom from Paul, she first had to
surrender herself to Ms. Sloan. The old cliche came to mind--"Out of the
frying pan, into the fire". She chuckled to herself while she pondered that
thought for a second. No, she shook her head violently so and muttered to
herself, impossible.

"Second guessing everyone will only make matters worse and too confusing to
deal with. After all, it was Katherine who was there for me when I needed
her and it is Katherine who I really and truly trust. I just have to
believe in her and the plan and soon everything will work out for the
best."

So Beth did as Katherine said and spent her free time Sunday watching
television. On Monday, she went to work as usual, dressed in her standard
sexy bimbo attire. She performed her secretarial duties there just like she
was taught, gum popping, giggling and all. But when she got home to the
apartment that evening, she was immediately taken aback.

New furniture had been added. Furniture with heavy black straps dangling
menacingly from them. And when Ms. Sloan greeted her, she was dressed very
oddly. In part, she was dressed as if she was going out for a sophisticated
night on the town. Her hair and face was made up to elegant perfection. Her
polished high heeled shoes, dark nylons and opera length black velvet
gloves instilled an aura of sensuous allure. But the rest of her ensemble
was right out of some ominous sexually depraved magazine.

She wore a tight bustier of leather that wrapped provocatively around her
womanly body and down between her legs. It had ornate shiny chrome inserts
defining her breasts and pubic area. Around her soft feminine neck, she
wore a narrow leather collar dominated with more of those bold metal studs.
To Beth, she both beautiful and evil, both at the same time. But when she
caught sight of that black leather riding crop in her hand, that balanced
scale of good versus evil was immediately shifted in only one possible
direction.

Katherine approached Beth with a sinister smile. The click of her heels on
the floor echoed in a slow, but somehow, powerful way. When she was only
inches from her, Katherine spoke to her in a voice that reminded Beth of a
cat that had trapped its prey. "Welcome home, my bimbo, lesbian, slave
girl." Then, she took Beth's wide-eyed face in her soft, velvety smooth
hands and kissed her, long, deep, and passionately.

Beth could not move. This woman was literally raping her mouth and she felt
powerless to do anything to stop it.

When the kiss finally ended, Katherine put her arms around Beth and hugged
her possessively. She whispered in Beth's ear not to be afraid. It was all
part of the plan and to follow her into the bedroom.

Once there, the atmosphere changed dramatically. Katherine's mood became
all excited and giddy, which caused Beth to awaken sharply from her stunned
trance. Katherine then explained, at length, what she had been doing for
the last two days and what was going to happen in the short time they had
left.

Katherine told her that she had spoken with some of her old friends about
the D/s scene and asked for their help. To which, every one of them had
been sympathetic to Beth's plight and commented on how brave she must be to
follow this difficult route. Beth recalled how much better she felt when
she heard that others thought she was doing the right thing. They also
thought that Katherine's bizarre plan had merit to it. Thus, they gave
Katherine a crash course in being a dominant, plus, loaned her various
devices, gear and fetish garb to help make the plan a success.

Katherine then said how she had hired a private investigator to follow Paul
and report on his actions. If Paul did that to them, then why not pay him
back in kind. Katherine wanted to know where Paul was every second of the
day. This way, they could intensify or relax their role-play as
circumstance dictated. The big news was that the corporate board would make
its decision and release the news in two or three weeks. Shortly after that
she would have to leave for the West Coast. That meant they would
only have a short period of time to make this pretend dominant/submissive
relationship work well enough to fool Paul.

Beth remembered how Katherine worded it. She was so compassionate in how
she explained their NEW relationship to her. "We will really have to get
into this kinky relationship as fast as possible Beth. I was hoping we
could ease our way into it, get a little used to it first, and then go
deeper as we went along. But I'm afraid we will not have that luxury. I
hope you understand that this has to appear real right off for it to work."

Beth remembered how bitter sweet she felt upon hearing those words. The
repugnance of having to acknowledge and then accept willingly, the need for
expedience in the plan's execution. While at the same time, how touched she
was that Katherine had put so much time, money and energy into trying to
make the plan work.

Again, she remembered how they both hugged one another and hearing
Katherine whispering in her ear how she was well worth the effort.

Then, Katherine laid down the ground rules. D/s was about control. Beth
would be surrendering herself to her superior, Mistress Katherine. A large
part of this power transfer was in following orders, no matter what they
were. Along with this, Beth would be put into many subservient roles,
emphasized with lots of bondage and erotic fetish wear.

Reminiscing, Beth felt another chill run down her spine when she recalled
Katherine's matter of fact tone telling her how her life had to change.

She squirmed again, over another memory flash back, concerning SEX in their
D/s relationship. Beth knew, even back when Katherine first mentioned the
word, this touchy area was going to include much more than just some
passionate kissing. Still, she trusted, even idolized Katherine and since
neither of them were really lesbians at heart, Beth was willing to do her
best to follow Katherine's lead. She remembered reaffirming to Katherine
her dedication to making the plan work by doing everything that Katherine
might expect of her. A pledge she made not without some difficulty.

Katherine had told her that because of Paul's extremely intrusive
examination of their lives, they would be forced into this role-playing 24
hours a day, 7 days a week. Thus, reality checks would be few and far
between. But Katherine promised to do her best to find times and moments
when they could come back into being who they really were, and review why
they were doing this. Beth understood the need for it all. And even though
it would be hard for her, she would do her best to stay in character at all
times.

At that point, Katherine had offered Beth a little trick she used when a
situation became too much for her. It worked in all facets of her life--
business, social events and in private, and she was sure it would help her
out too. At anytime, when the pressure was getting too much for her, she
would take a moment in repose to reaffirm who she was, why she was doing
this, and to bear in mind that nothing lasts forever.

After that Katherine kissed her on the cheek and told her to go to bed.
Tomorrow the plan would go into full effect. And she was going to need her
rest if she was to perform as required. Beth remembered fading off to sleep
repeating to herself a personal mantra that was based on Katherine's
suggestion. "I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman.
I am doing this for a better life and it will soon be over."

Now, it all seemed like a dream. A horrible nightmare was more like it.
Beth quickly became three people in one. At work, she was Ms. Sloan's air
headed bimbo secretary. At home, she became the very obedient slave to
Mistress Katherine. And finally, in bed, just before sleep claimed her, she
was Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free woman, who wanted a better life
and prayed the current situation would soon end.

Mistress Katherine had been good to her word. The next morning, Beth was
unceremoniously inducted into Ms. Sloan's plan of last resort. Considering
how aggressive Ms. Sloan was in business, Beth should have guessed that she
would be equally aggressive in Beth's domination. Katherine changed Beth's
work wardrobe a bit more. Her under things were packed away and put in
storage. She was no longer to wear bras or panties. This made Beth feel
both excited and embarrassed at the same time. Her breasts no longer had
any support and even though they were still youthfully firm, they were of
the above average size. When she moved, especially suddenly, her breasts
moved too, wiggling and jiggling on their own like large mounds of Jell-O.
The movement had a rather pleasant and stimulating effect on her.

Her outside apparel would sometimes rub against her bare nipples, exciting
them into hard nubs, a process Beth could only find desirable. It wasn't
long, however, before Beth's physical pleasure turned into emotional
distress. Every time she looked into a mirror, Beth could see her large,
erect nipples poking obscenely through the soft material of her blouse.
Her bimbo image had just been raised to another level. No panties, together
with too short skirts and dresses, only added to her sweet and sour
emotional state.

Cool breezes and cold seats were brisk reminders of her naughtiness, a
feeling she was embarrassed to say she was learning to like. Then again,
any good feeling was washed away by shame whenever she had to bend over.
Instead of showing off pretty panties, Beth was flashing her bare ass to
the world.

It wasn't as though Beth went totally without undergarments. She now had to
wear a variety of corsets, all the time. And those corsets came in many
different colors, designs and materials. The colors were all bright and
bold. The designs varied from plain to very frilly and fashionably erotic.
They also came in different materials like cotton, satin, leather, latex,
and one, of all things, in thick rubber.

Despite their variety, they still shared the same characteristics. They
were all old fashioned, laced up the back and heavily boned corsets. And
each and everyone of them would reduce her waist from four to six inches in
circumference. A reduction that definitely left Beth in physical
discomfort, many times bordering on pure agony. But never-the-less, she had
to grin and bear it for the cause just like a good little trooper or a
devoted slave girl who was deeply in love with her domineering Mistress.

The effect of the lacing was to give Beth's body a severe "hour glass"
shape. As her waist was constricted inwards, she filled out both above and
below the corset. Her hips and rear end became wider and rounder, and her
breasts seem to increase from a full "C" to almost a "D" cup, that is if
there was anything to cup them with. Her bimbo look was becoming more and
more a physical reality with each passing day.

Her outerwear underwent only a minor change however. Given her much
enhanced, voluptuous figure, she did have to pack away some of her older,
now poorly fitting, wardrobe. But Mistress Katherine made up for her
slave's loss with new clothes more appropriate for her new position. Her
new clothes were still the bright, tight, and flesh exhibiting outfits they
were before. But the material was very different. Now, her clothes featured
tighter leathers, more squeaky ultra-thin latexes and one totally bizarre
dress of hot, squeezing, suffocating rubber. They still made Beth look like
the office bimbo, but now she was the "fetish" office bimbo.

Beth had to endure two more changes in apparel that distressed her the
most, each bordering on almost pure abject humiliation. Her high heels were
raised from five inches to six inches, some with platform soles. The too-
high heels not only caused her feet to hurt and her legs to cramp, but they
made her "bump and grind" swagger even more exaggerated.

Worse, the combination of higher heels and tighter corsets molded her
figure into a kind of lazy "S" shape. She was forced to thrust her hard
nippled breasts out wantonly and to jut her rounded rear out appallingly.
Before this, when she walked, her breasts quivered seductively. Now,
without any effort on Beth's part and much to her dismay, her two ballooned
boobs bounced about obscenely.

The other cause for her acute embarrassment was the added jewelry she was
required to wear. Around her neck, Beth wore a kind of snug necklace, a
simple choker to the casual observer. But on close inspection, it was a
decorated dog collar, complete with identification tag. The tag identified
her as "B, property of K.S." The other piece of feminine jewelry was an
ankle bracelet. People in the know might have called it a fashionable slave
bracelet. In this case, it was not a fashion statement at all. It was a
real symbol of ownership, tagged with the owner's name, "Katherine's". If
Beth's former bimbo appearance troubled her, then her added fetish and
slave accouterments embarrassed her to the very core of her being.

But it did not end there. It was not good enough merely to look the part.
Beth now had to act the part of a bimbo slave girl as well. Mistress
Katherine had more than a few ideas in that department too. Beth was
required to call her boss "Ms. Sloan," "Mistress" or "Mistress Katherine."

At work, when people were around, Beth was to call her "Ms. Sloan". When
they were alone or away from work, she would answer with "Mistress" or
"Mistress Katherine," even during those few times when a reality check was
afforded them. Mistress Katherine insisted on it, since in doing so would
help prevent slip-ups. And since it was only for a couple of weeks, Beth
complied.

On the other hand, Mistress Katherine would call Beth anything she wanted,
at any time. Once, Mistress called her "slave" over their intercom when
there were clients in the outer office with her. Beth just giggled like the
air headed bimbo she portrayed to perfection and informed the clients that
it was just a little joke about how her boss worked her so hard. But most
of the time, Mistress would call her simply "pet", or use the letter "B".

Mistress Katherine told her she liked those two the most. Each signified
their relationship to a "T". Beth was merely a "pet" to be played with now
and then. And at other times, when Mistress used Beth as a slave, she would
call her "B" since her slave status made her unworthy of even a full first
name. Look the part. Act the part. Be the part!

The protocol did not end there. Mistress Katherine required Beth to refer
to herself in the third person. Beth was forced to say things like
"Mistress, B would like to ask you something" or "Mistress, could B have
something to eat, she is really hungry" or "Your pet is very sorry for not
understanding you, please do not punish her." Even in the midst of a
reality check, Beth was expected to speak in this demeaning way.
Consistency was everything.

Throughout the day, Beth was required to drink soda through a straw. Of
course, in keeping with her "bimbo" persona, she had to make as much noise
as possible. After all, bad manners was part of being a bimbo. Drinking so
much meant she had to go to the bathroom often. Mistress Katherine only
allowed her slave to go to the restroom down the hall once during the day.
If she needed to go more than that, she had to use Katherine's private
facilities--but only after asking permission.

Beth dreaded that part the most. She was not allowed simply to ask to use
her Mistress's washroom, but had to go through a whole degrading scene that
was suppose to be for the benefit of the D/s relationship, and Paul, if he
happened to be spying on them at the time. Beth had to first knock on the
door and ask: "Could B ask a question Mistress?"

Sometimes, Katherine was too busy and refused her. Then Beth was required
to answer: "B is sorry for interrupting you, Mistress." She then had to go
back to her desk and wait ten minutes before trying again.

If her Mistress decided to see her, Beth was to respond "Thank you,
Mistress," and walk up to the front of her desk and wait for her Mistress
to address her again. She always had to wait. While she did, she would go
into a choreographed act designed to make Paul think twice about his
infatuation with Beth. Sometimes, it wasn't all an act either.

Beth was to start fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the
other and swinging her body from side to side. Her elbows always bent and
held close to her waist while her arms and limp wrists at right angles to
one another to make her image more pathetic. She even had to make little
moans of distress and start bouncing up and down from the knees. It was all
an act to make her look like a pitiful little girl in need of going to the
washroom.

Finally, Mistress Katherine would ask Beth what she wanted. Beth was to
respond: "Please Mistress, B is sorry for the interruption, but B needs to
pee very badly."

Katherine would always ask her if it was truly an emergency. That was
Beth's cue to intensify her act. She was to shift her weight much faster
now while raising one foot then the other, keeping her knees akimbo. She
had to increase her bouncing in place and wave her forearms and flap her
hands limply up and down in a kind of dire panic. Her facial expression was
to match her body's urgent need for relief with distressed pouts and
squinting eyes. As a final plea, she was to say: "Please Mistress, pretty
please Mistress, B really needs to go potty bad!"

After a few minutes of watching Beth's award-winning dance, Katherine would
tell her to go ahead. Of course Beth would thank her Mistress profusely and
run to the private washroom as fast as her high heels and tight skirt would
allow. And once in the out of sight confines of the restroom, Beth would
look at herself in the mirror and almost cry. The only thing that prevented
a gush of tears was her mantra. "I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free
heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a better life and it will soon be
over."

Beth would exit the private facilities and walk back to Mistress Katherine.
Once there, she was to strike her "bimbo pose."

Whenever Beth was standing in her Mistress' presence at the office, she was
to automatically pose herself in a most horrible way of coming to
attention. Beth had to stand with her weight shifted on to one leg and her
hip jutting out to the side. She was to rest her hand on her hip to draw
even more attention to her luscious pelvic curve. Then, both shoulders were
to be drawn back proudly, thus thrusting out her bulging breasts and
pouting nipples to their maximum effect. Finally, she was to stare, big-
eyed and vacant, off into space while chewing bubble gum with her mouth
open. Beth was to hold this pose for the count of ten. If nothing happened,
she was to slowly shift her entire pose to the other side.

The whole idea was to reinforce her image as a sex object and down play,
for Paul's benefit, her existence as a unique cognitive woman. So far,
student Beth was getting straight "A's". By this time, Katherine would
either wave her on to her secretarial duties or have Beth just stand there,
shifting her pose every ten seconds like a hooker on a street corner
looking for some action.

Lunchtime was another opportunity for Katherine to intensify the plan.
According to her PI's report, this was a key time when Paul spied on them.
Knowing that Paul wanted Beth as his well-mannered, moral wife and mother
of his children, Katherine tried to set up lunchtime situations to end
Paul's fantasy.

Katherine had Beth do a kind of bump and grind strip show for her at lunch.
Beth was told to perform like a slut queen on stage, peeling her figure-
hugging clothes from her soft feminine body in long slow movements while
fluttering her long false eyelashes like a first class vamp. If she wasn't
flashing a full, inviting smile from ear to ear, her ripen red lips were
pouting in a luscious come-hither look.

Oh yes, Katherine made sure Beth knew Paul was getting an eye full. She
instructed Beth to move enticingly, slowly, sensuously like a hooker in an
Amsterdam window.

A few times during the strip show, she would tell Beth to stop her erotic
gyrations and simply pose for her. And in this Beth had to do in specific
ways that were purely sexual, either teasingly sophomoric or blatant in-
your-face pornography.

Katherine was the erotic puppeteer and Beth was the bimbo "Barbie" doll on
a string. Katherine accepted nothing less than perfection from poor,
humiliated Beth as she commanded her to repeat each move until her Mistress
was totally satisfied with it's execution.

Beth followed her mentor's lead without objection, even though she felt
degraded to tears. But as a "slave," her body and mind were no longer hers
to command. The plan stipulated that she "belonged" to her Mistress and she
had to obey, freely, without reservations and to the utmost of her
abilities. And Beth quietly complied.

Katherine would never let Beth remove more than her outer clothes, but that
was no great reprieve. Her only attire after that was her sexy tight
corset, her long dark nylons held up by frilly garter straps, and her
stiletto heels. At this point, Katherine would really begin to raise the
heat for the spying Paul, and for poor, tormented, red-faced Beth.

Beth was forced to dance in a way that focused attention on her tits, ass
and pussy. She would move her waist, shoulders and arms so her tits would
shake, jiggle and bounce like the full, ripened sex objects they had
become. Her hips and ass were paraded, rolled and wagged like a belly
dancer without a skirt. With her pussy, she had to spread her legs, bend
her knees and do a pelvic thrust in a kind of air humping. The only thing
she could not do, because of Katherine's explicit order, was to touch her
self. She could not touch her big, bouncing tits. She could not touch her
gyrating ass and hips. And she certainly could not touch her tender and
increasingly wet pussy. Only Mistress Katherine had the right to touch
those feminine jewels of erotic pleasure.

Throughout Beth's lewd dance, Katherine would tell her to freeze and Beth
would have to stop immediately. She would be straight-legged, bent at the
waist and wiggling her ass in front of Katherine's face when her Mistress
would say "FREEZE!" and Beth would turn to stone, right then and there.

Katherine would then rub her hands over her pet's smooth and irresistible
rear end. At first, her touch would be soft and caressing like a lover.
Then it became heavy and massaging like a baker kneading dough.

Sooner or later, Beth would feel the first slap. Sometimes, it was gentle
but mostly it was not. In a short time, Beth's derriere would have turned a
brilliant red. At this point, Katherine would change tactics and perform a
slow sensuous massage of the two round buttocks. Of late, Beth was
beginning to enjoy these little erotic spankings, a feeling she later
reflected on with misgivings.

At other times in the dance, Beth would freeze bent over, her big tits
hanging free in front of Katherine and her big red ass sticking out in back
right in front of Katherine's office's window. Katherine wanted Paul to get
a good look at what was happening to his dream girl, regardless if anyone
else did too. Besides, it was time for Mistress Katherine to play with B's
sweet breasts.

Like her ass, Katherine started warmly, caringly and gently. Her touch
would be ever so light, slow and intimate. She would circle the base of
Beth's nipples affectionately causing the girl to experience an exciting,
tingling sensation. To Beth's dismay, it aroused her a lot as Katherine
would play with her erect nipples, bouncing them around with her
fingertips, and then trapping and rolling them delicately between her
finger and thumb. She would lightly pinch them, draw them down slowly and
then abruptly let them go. Katherine was particularly delighted in watching
Beth's breasts bounce around when she did this. Even Beth found a subtle
pleasure in experiencing this kind of kinky foreplay.

Soon, Katherine's tit fondling became more aggressive. She would cup and
squeeze Beth's breasts, grabbing them, pulling on them and even digging her
fingers into their succulent flesh. Beth's nipples would also see such
dynamic attention. The pinching became harder, the pulling more strenuous
and in all directions, even circular. At times, Beth felt like a cow having
her teats mangled by an overzealous milkmaid.

Every now and then, she would feel a sharp, quick twist of pain that seem
like a flash of electricity running through her body. To her surprise, Beth
again found even this treatment slightly pleasurable.

Despite those few moments of physical pleasure, Beth still found it all
degrading and humiliating as this all-too-surreal nightmare continued to
unfold. Then again, why wouldn't she? She was not a lesbian. She was not a
kinky person. And she certainly was not interested in being treated as a
simple, mindless sex object. Sometimes though, it seemed as if her mind was
telling her one thing while her body was telling her the complete opposite.
Beth was beginning to find it harder and harder to trust one over the
other.

This was especially true when Katherine told her to freeze when her pussy
was pushed up and out for easy access. Yet, Katherine never touched Beth
there. She would touch her everywhere else though, gently up and down her
inner thighs and softly, almost tickling, over and around her pubic area.
Katherine would even blow lightly on Beth's wet pussy sending a wave of
cool sensation throughout her hot inner core. But she would never touch her
there. Unbelievably, Beth found this very frustrating! Not having her pussy
touched by Katherine, a woman, might have relieved her mental concerns, but
it did nothing to appease her body that ached so desperately to be touched.

Some submerged part of Beth wanted her Mistress to fondle her there, to
stimulate her, to use her until she experienced the most mind-blowing
orgasm she had ever had. Beth's mental and physical needs confused her
badly. Her body yearned for the lesbian stimulated orgasm it was being
denied. Beth knew, however, that if she did, she would feel terribly guilt
stricken and ashamed afterwards.

It was a Catch 22, damned if she did and damned if she didn't. But she was
a "slave" now and decisions like this were not hers to make anymore.
Mistress Katherine made these decisions and she always left Beth
frustrated, in more ways than one.

At the end of their lunchtime extravaganza, Katherine would tell Beth to
gather up her clothes, go to her private restroom and put herself back
together and definitely not masturbate.

Beth would answer with a simpering "Yes Mistress, B thanks you very much
for a lovely lunch Mistress" and scoot off to the restroom.

Once alone, she would break down in tears. Her heavy makeup running and
smearing down her face. It wasn't so much what Katherine made her do that
distressed her, even when she tried hard to forget. Worse, it was how she
felt afterwards standing, half-dressed in the restroom. She was alone,
horny as hell, but somehow helpless to do anything about it. She would then
stare at her bizarre image in the vanity's mirror and think to herself "Why
can't I just finger myself off to a wonderful orgasm? The door is closed, I
am alone, no one would know. So why can't I?" Beth always found herself
crying when she tried to answer those questions. "Am I slipping more and
more into my slave role? Am I really this powerless to stop it? Maybe deep
down, I really don't want to stop this farce after all."

That last thought would always make her cry the most. She would then tell
herself that wasn't it. That couldn't be the real reason why. Beth simply
would not accept what her body and repressed emotions were telling her.
It's all a small side effect from putting too much of myself into my role,
that's all. Once everything is back to normal then I will be too. Her mind
would always rationalized its way out of her dilemma.

But each time she went through this, it seem to take her a little longer to
pull herself together, clean herself up and get back into her bimbo sub
role. Her mantra ran in her head automatically the whole time. "I am Beth
Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a
better life, and this will soon be over."

She took a final look in the mirror. Beth was finding it harder to see
herself as she used to be. She repeated her mantra with more resolve "I am
BETH JENSON, an INTELLIGENT and FREE HETEROSEXUAL woman. I am doing this
for a BETTER LIFE, and this WILL soon BE OVER." It was helping. There was
still hope. I can survive this.

Beth presented herself to Mistress Katherine, bimbo pose and all. Katherine
took B in her arms and kissed her, softly at first, firmly next, and then
passionately without reservation.

B responded in kind, her mantra still echoing. "I am Beth Jenson, An
intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a better life
and this will soon be over."

Katherine broke the kiss and hugged her tightly. She whispered in her ear
"Soon BETH, soon." Beth hugged her back her eyes getting glassy again. Her
mantra faded in her mind. There was hope, there really was.

Katherine broke the hug and told Beth to get back to work. Beth smiled.

"Yes Mistress, THANK YOU Mistress" emphasizing her "thank you" to
Katherine's whispered mention of her name. Katherine smiled back and in a
warm voice replied, "You're welcome . . . Beth".

They just had a reality check. It was short and sweet, but it spoke volumes
to Beth. It seemed to recharge Beth's batteries as she swaggered in triumph
back to her desk. A moment later, Katherine heard someone blow their nose
in her outer office. She smiled.

The elevator door opened and Beth was thrust back into the present. She
followed Katherine into the vacant elevator and the doors closed after
them. She was standing behind Mistress Katherine, as was her place, the
correct place for a slave. The workday was done and with it, her role as
office bimbo. It was time to take on another role, a role that played down
her bimbo personality and forced her into total perverted objectivity.

They were going straight home tonight. She knew this as fact, and had so
since early this morning before they left for work. She knew this because
she was wearing a long trench coat. If they were going out before going
home, then she would not be wearing one.

Beth stared again at their reflected images. How could their relationship
change so fast? A month ago, it was employer and employee, teacher and
student, and mentor and disciple. Then, it changed to pseudo-lesbian
lovers. Next, to a corporate executive lesbian and her office lesbian
bimbo. Finally, it had mutated to dominant and submissive lesbians, or more
simply Mistress and slave.

Beth looked long and hard at their reflected images. It seemed as though
her greatest change was on the outside--body, dress, and behavior. On the
inside, she remained her old self, at least those parts she still
recognized and had control over.

When she looked at Katherine, she seen just the opposite. She could see
that Kathrine was her old self on the outside. But Katherine seemed to be
changing on the inside, and that scared her immensely!

Oh, Beth knew that Katherine was role-playing just like she was. After all,
neither of them were truly kinky lesbians. There was something, however, in
the way Katherine went about it. It was hard for Beth to put her finger on
it. This whole project was becoming one emotionally confused mess for her.
Still, it was a fact that Katherine seemed to go a bit overboard sometimes,
as if she enjoyed turning Beth into a lesbian slave girl. It wasn't a
question of what Katherine did, but the intensity that she did it with that
often made Beth's skin crawl in fear.

There was the time when Beth was doing some typing at her desk and
Katherine came up behind her. She started rubbing Beth's shoulders. The
shoulder massage felt so good. Then, Katherine's hands started to move down
Beth's arms and then over to her chest. She would cup each of Beth's
breasts with her hands and then gently rubbed them through the sheer
material of her blouse. She could feel Katherine's heavy breath on the back
of her neck followed by a series of little kisses down the side. Beth
became more than a little uneasy in this and asked, "Is there anything B
could do for you Mistress?"

Katherine answered directly. "No, continue what you are doing, pet, and
ignore what I am doing to you. That is, if you can." The last part was put
as a kind of taunting dare.

Intimidated, Beth did not press the issue. She did as Katherine told her
and continued typing, doing her best to ignore Katherine's unwanted
attentions. But Katherine raised it to another level. The soft, small
kisses on her neck became big, wet smooches with an occasional gentle
dragging of teeth along her sensitive skin. Katherine's tongue would run up
and down Beth's neck, giving her goose bumps of excitement and fear at the
same time. Her hands were once more massaging Beth's breasts, squeezing
them, lifting them, rolling them around on her chest. Beth could not help
but enjoy having her breasts ravished this way.

Katherine found Beth's ear and began to play with this new erogenous zone.
Her lips trapped parts of her ear and pulled and sucked lustfully. She gave
Beth little love bites, nothing serious, just a bit of aggressive
playfulness. Katherine's tongue took charge as it explored and violated
every nook and cranny that her ear had to offer. And Beth just giggled and
cooed with delight since it tickled and made her feel warm and yearning for
more.

Katherine's caressing of Beth's breasts shifted into a kind of cat and
mouse play with her nipples. Her hands would cover Beth's breasts in such a
way that the palms of her hands would barely touch the hard erect points of
Beth's nipples. And as Katherine moved her hands around the outside of
Beth's breasts, her palms would sometimes drag lightly across Beth's
nipples in a tingly, ticklish way. Beth was being toyed with in a way that
made her shiver.

Try as she might, Beth couldn't concentrate on her typing. What she was
feeling went beyond just a couple of office girls fooling around for show
or jest. Katherine was performing foreplay on her, arousing her, sending
her well on her way to a soaring orgasm. The intensity of Katherine's
tongue in her ear was at the same level with having a hot cock fucking her,
something that Beth began to fantasize about.

But something else was wrong here. Katherine was getting too carried away.
She was going over the top. It was as if Doctor Jekyll had turned into the
lesbian Ms. Hyde and Beth was her erotic feast for the day. Just when Beth
was about to break it off, Doctor Jekyll regained control and Katherine
abandoned her sexual assault. She immediately grabbed Beth's lower jaw in
her hand, turned her head so that Beth was looking out the office window.

"Smile, pet, we're on candid camera." She turned Beth's head back to face
hers and gave her one hell of a hot French kiss.

Katherine broke off her kiss and told Beth to go back to work and left for
her inner office. Beth knew then that Katherine must of received a call
from her PI that Paul was watching them. And as such, Katherine decided to
give Paul something to look at. But couldn't Katherine told her what she
had planned? And why did Katherine have to go so far overboard? Could it be
possible that Katherine have a secret agenda, she wondered and not for the
first time?

Then, there was the time they went out for dinner after work. Beth had to
continue to play the submissive, she understood this. But once again
Katherine seemed to take it way to far.

Katherine entered the restaurant, talked with the Maitre d' and was shown
to a table. She looked over the menu, placed the order and waited for her
food while sipping a glass of wine. Through this entire process, Katherine
pretended that Beth was not even there.

Beth was not allowed to talk to anyone or order any food or drink even a
glass of water. She was to just sit next to Mistress Katherine, her head
cast slightly down in total silence, and wait. Wait amongst all the stares
and hushed comments around them. Most of which were asking the same
question. Why would an impeccably dressed business woman associate herself
with such a wantonly flamboyant street whore?

When the food came, Katherine periodically fed Beth with morsels from her
plate. She would also allow Beth to sip some wine from a glass that she
held to her lips. And it was Katherine who started and finished all
conversations directed to either of them. Beth was shocked at how easy it
was for Katherine to treat her as such a non-person, a mer pet, in public.
It made her wonder if she should really trust Katherine so blindly.

The elevator doors opened and Katherine led the way to the underground
parking garage. They were going straight home tonight because of the long
trench coat she wore, or rather what was underneath the coat.

To make the relationship seem as real as possible, and another example of
how Katherine seemed to have gone over the top, Beth had to be bound
underneath the coat. It started in the morning, just before they left for
work. Katherine would come into Beth's bedroom and tell her to "Present
your self for leaving, slave." This would be the cue for Beth to stand
before her Mistress with her back turned, arms behind her and hands palm to
palm.

Katherine would take a wide strap and fasten it snugly around Beth's
wrists. She would take another strap and fasten it around her arms just
below her elbows.

In the beginning Katherine left some space between her elbows since Beth
was not very limber. But now, after continued intense training at the hands
of Mistress Katherine, Beth was able to have her elbows bound tightly with
one touching the other. Of course, this made Beth's breasts and nipples
bulge out even more than usual.

Beth was then to turn around and face her Mistress. Katherine took two more
straps and fastened them around Beth's arms and torso, one just below her
overflowing breasts and the other around the smallest part of her wasp like
waist.

Being bound like this while wearing the constricting corset made Beth as
stiff as a board from the waist up. Katherine then placed the trench coat
over Beth's shoulders and buttoned up the front. The sash was tied around
her waist and the empty sleeves were placed in her pockets and pinned
inside to keep them from falling out. Beth looked quite inconspicuously
natural.

A final item was then presented to Beth. When she had first seen it and
learned what it was for, her eyes had bugged out in disbelief. Beth
immediately began begging Katherine for mercy--just like a slave in the
throes of misery. "Please Mistress, your pet doesn't think it will fit
inside of her. It is way too big for your pet, Mistress. Please don't make
your pet take it into her. Please Mistress Katherine, please!"

Katherine just smiled and giggled. "Do you really think I would force such
a big thing like this inside of you, pet? Come now, you have to give me
more credit than that. Look, see how I can compress it? Now open that
succulent mouth of yours slave and say ahhhh."

Beth did as she was told and Katherine began to push a big yellow nerf ball
in her mouth. She even had to put one hand behind Beth's neck for support
in order to force the whole spongy ball into place. Once it was in she told
Beth to close her mouth as far as she could and to force her lips to meet
in front. Katherine made it clear to Beth that she did not want to see any
yellow color coming out of her mouth.

Beth nodded her head and moaned an acknowledgment of her Mistress's orders.
She tried to force her jaws as close together as the ball would allow.
Then, she forced her lips closed to fill in the rest.

The purpose of the gag was to force Beth to keep her attention on hiding
the ball in her mouth and not on her tightly strapped bondage. Nor was she
to be concerned with how people might look at her or what might transpire
around her either. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and follow
behind her Mistress like a good little slave girl. Besides, Katherine
thought it made her look so cute with her lips puckered up so, just like a
bimbo Cupie doll.

Since the two came to work this way, it was logical for them to go home the
same way as well. Katherine opened the passenger door for Beth, who turned
and slowly sat down on the seat. The combination of tight corset and
bondage straps made that simple movement very difficult, not to mention
how much discomfort there was just to breathe.

As Beth sat normally in her seat, or what passed as normal, Katherine took
three more straps from behind the seat. She fastened them around Beth's
legs, one above and below her knees, the other around her ankles. Katherine
took one last look at her helplessly bound and gagged slave girl and then
closed the car door. The seat belt and shoulder harness automatically
wrapped itself around Beth's totally immobile form, pinning her into her
seat.

Katherine got in on the driver's side and closed the door. She started the
car and just before she put it in gear, she turned to Beth. "Are you ready
to go home, pet?" Beth replied with a nod of her head and a soft short
grunt.

They were headed home now. Home, where Beth's waking nightmare was being
molded into new depths of anguish and humiliation.

***************************************************************************

Part 3 - "Window Dresing" coming Saturday, I Hope!

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 3)


                          "Window Dressing"


"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the kinkiest slave girl of them all?"
Katherine said those words with an air of cheerfulness while adding the
final touches to Beth's at home slave uniform. Katherine had to give Beth a
hand in getting herself ready. The kinky clothes that her D/s friends
loaned her, to really shake up Paul's spying eyes, were either far to tight
or complex and restraining for Beth to put them on by herself.

Each night, when they came home from work, they would head off to Beth's
bedroom for a change of clothes, and of character for Beth.

"My goodness slave don't you look every bit the kinky slave tart. We must
take a picture of you like this and send it to my friends who lent us all
these wonderful fetish wear and bondage gear. I'll even write a little
letter and include it with the picture telling them how thankful we are for
all their generosity in our time of need. Of course, we will also send a
copy of you like this to Paul. Oh, did I tell you? We received another
envelope from Paul today. I think we are really shaking him with all these
fetish bondage slave pictures we are sending him. Two can play that picture
game of his. Isn't that right pet?"

"Mmmphhh."

"Hmmm, that gag looks a bit loose on you B. Here let me tighten it up one
more notch, OK?"

"MMMMMMMPPHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"There, that looks much better! Now I can see how tight the leather strap
is as it digs into the sides of your cute rubber clad cheeks. Remember B,
looking the part is only half of it. You have to be the part too. You have
to look like you love being my tightly bound fetish slave, Ok?"

Mmmmmmmmmm"

Aww, poor dear, I know B, I know how hard it is for you to wear all this
kinky stuff. And how tight and restrictive everything is on your body."

"MMMMppphhhhh!"

"Oh yes! And all those mouth filling gags too. But you know how important
it is. And we are making progress! You know that, don't you pet?"

"Mmm"

"That's my kinky slave girl!"

Katherine put her arms around Beth's encapsulated and restrained body and
gave her one big long hug. Although being bound in rubber and leather, as
Beth was, and then being given a warm tight hug was the last thing Beth
really needed about now.

"There, that's my brave future corporate executive. What do you say we get
started and give Paul another good look at how his lovely heterosexual
bride to be can be so submissive, so kinky and so deliciously sexy with her
very own dominant Mistress, ME!"

"Mmm"

"That's a good little slave. Here, let me attach this leash to your slave
collar. Oh, I just love that collar of yours pet! Paul can easily see those
big bright red letters spelling "SLAVE" embossed into its blackness. I'm
just sorry the collar has to be so wide and stiff for the visual effect to
be seen. It must be hard for you to keep your head so still and erect like
that."

"MMMM!"

"Well, it can't be helped I'm afraid. But soon, very soon it will all be
over and the two of us will celebrate our victory in sunny California. But
until then, it's time for our little play to begin . . . my kinky, lesbian,
bondage, slave girl."

With that Katherine pulled hard on the leash that forced Beth to follow her
Mistress out of the bedroom and into another act of the plan.

This night was no different than all the other nights that Katherine and
Beth spent playing Mistress and slave. They had played every night since
the plan was expanded so radically to include this dark side of human
sexuality. The plan that now included the elements of D/s and B&D to the
already existing lesbianism of a corporate executive and her pretend bimbo
lover.

Each long playful night Katherine would turn the screws on Paul by making
Beth appear less and less the intelligent, complex, heterosexual woman and
more like a simple sex object who's love for other women, tight bondage and
outlandish fetish wear knew no bounds. And slowly, it was working.

Katherine took Beth into the great room. A room that was once a refuge for
relaxing, quiet solitude after a long hard day at the office. A room full
of large over stuffed furniture to sink into while listening to gently
playing music that would relax one's tension ridden soul. But now it
contained other items too. Items of darkness, captivity and exhibitionism
that reflected stress, helplessness and sensuality of a perverse kind. It
was also the room with the tallest and widest window that faced the many
other tall apartment buildings, one of which contained Paul. And this
particular window of Katherine's lavished apartment had drapes that were
never ever closed.

Beth was energetically pulled into the room, her black stiletto knee high
boots with their closely tethered ankle chain were mincing as fast as they
could to keep up with Katherine's eagerness to begin. A few times the leash
went taunt with Katherine almost pulling poor Beth off her feet in her zeal
to get her slave deep into the make-shift dungeon.

The great room had been partially redecorated. Most of the normal,
comfortable, furniture was gathered near the entrance to the room, while
the dungeon accoutrements were placed at the back, near that big picture
window.

Once more Katherine jerked the leash which led Beth to a heavy upright
wooden post that was fastened securely to the floor. There, she substituted
a short chain for the long leather leash. The other end of said chain was
bolted solid to that formidable pillar and kept her pretend slave girl only
a few inches from it. She then took Beth's rubber hooded head in her soft
feminine hands and said, "Now you stay right here like a good little slave,
all nice and comfy, and wait patiently for your beloved Mistress to return.
I need to change into something more comfortable for our private time
together." Katherine then gave Beth a quick kiss on her naked nose, told
her to "be good" and walked away.

Beth was left alone, but she didn't feel alone. She felt exactly what she
was, on display. She looked out into the evening darkness, through that
immense, unobstructed, crystal clear window, and seen all those buildings.
Buildings with all those many, many well lighted apartments just like the
one she was in. And only one of which contained that ass hole Paul.

For Paul's benefit, she had to humiliate herself in front of hundreds,
if not thousands, of other people. People who were no doubt watching her
right now. People with binoculars and telescopes. And maybe some with
cameras too. She closed her eyes tight and tried hard to change her
thoughts.

She remembered what Katherine had told her, before they went down this
path. She told her that yes, many people other than Paul would no doubt be
watching her, but it was a small price to pay to get rid of him. Besides,
her apartment was too high up and too far away for that many voyeurs to see
them. Plus, there was the fact that they weren't doing anything wrong. Only
a couple of women who liked to dress up in fetish wear and play domination
games.

One could easily see much worst on TV. And no one could see them actually
having sex either, even though Katherine did a good job of implying that
they did. Katherine was always cautious enough to make sure the naughty
bits were never seen, at least not for too long.

The only female nudity that availed itself was Beth's naked breasts and
sometimes, rarely, her shaved pussy. But Katherine herself made sure her
own breasts and genitalia were always covered. So the very worst anyone
could see was a limited view of two women dressed in radically kinky
clothing and playing innocent touchy feely games with one another. True,
one of the women always seemed to be showing off her voluptuous naked body
in a kind of subservient, pornographic way with her face distorted with
an assortment of gags, head harnesses and hoods. But that was all.

Again, it was only for a little while and once they were in California it
wouldn't matter in the least. So Beth believe in what Katherine told her.
To believe, to do her part, and to get through it the best way she could.

Keeping her thoughts on the ending was the trick. For in the end, it would
all have been worth it. Beth believed in Katherine, the plan and their
ability to be victorious. After all, she was Beth Jenson, an intelligent
and free heterosexual woman. And she was doing this for a better life, and
this too will soon be over.

At this point the physical discomfort of Beth's unique condition was
beginning to gnaw on her awareness. But not to the extent it once did
during the first couple of weeks of the new and improved plan. Back then it
was all so frightening new and physically draining for poor Beth, not to
mention terribly humiliating. Lucky for her it was all pretend and that her
dear friend Katherine was running the show, otherwise, things could have
easily been much worst. And given what Beth had to endure so far, even that
was almost enough for her to call it quits!

Many a time Katherine's carefully scripted domination and bondage scenes
were so intense that Beth longed to go back to being Katherine's simple
fetish bimbo office girl. She even asked Katherine if they could spend a
little less time at home playing Mistress and bondage slave and more as
employer and employee, even with the added D/s element.

Katherine just looked at her with compassion and told her in a kind, gentle
voice that it was regrettably impossible. For it was largely what they did
at home that was really shaking up Paul, the stalker, and not what they did
at the office. As the continuous feedback from him was testimony to.

Katherine was right again. The bondage fetish pictures she sent to Paul, he
sent right back to them. Some had a big red "X" across them, some had been
ripped up into tiny pieces, and others had writing over them like "LIES,
LIES, LIES". The returned pictures did show that Paul was having a hard
time in denying them and that maybe he was finally coming to grips with the
truth of Beth's lesbian Mistress/slave relationship with Katherine after
all. Thus, now was not the time to quit, or soften up. Instead, it was a
time to push full steam ahead.

The pictures alone would not get rid of Paul. She had to play the part of
willing slave girl to Katherine's Mistress with all the eagerness and
devotion she could muster.

So, she wore all the tight revealing fetish outfits and the accompanying
restrictive bondage that Katherine laid out for her. It wasn't long before
Beth thought of herself as nothing more than a sexy bondage fetish model
for some sexually depraved fashion house. It was like there was no end to
the variety of latex, leather and rubber outfits she was forced to wear in
order to bust Paul's infatuation bubble.

Beth thought that some of those kinky clothes might have some redeeming
quality to them somewhere. She was trying to be optimistic, to see the
silver lining, for surely not all could be dark clouds around her. But the
latex, the leather and most certainly the rubber wear, all lacked any
redeeming quality what-so-ever for Beth to pin her hopes on. For her, it
was simply a matter of acting and enduring. To show Paul how much she loved
being a fetish bondage doll, and to endure the physical and emotional
strife of living through this hideous fashion hell.

Beth knew what to expect with regards to the latex outfits based on what
she already had to wear at work. The latex ones were all so tight, hot and
restrictive to move in. Their design left nothing to the imagination. They
displayed her womanly assets with minimum coverage and in the brightest and
boldest colors possible. Many times while wearing them, Beth felt like the
proverbial wanton bitch in heat instead of the romantic seductress that she
knew she was.

Even with her knowledge of how bad the latex was, she still held out some
hope with regards to the other types of garments that Katherine had in mind
for her, especially the leather ones.

At first, Beth thought the leather garments would be much more acceptable
and fashionable than the latex ones. After all, what woman didn't enjoy
wearing a nice leather skirt or a warm comfortable leather coat or even a
stylish leather vest now and then? But it was all a pipe dream for Beth.
For the leather clothes that Katherine had for her were none of those
things. In fact, they couldn't be considered as "clothes" at all. More like
foreboding items to restrain, control and erotically exhibit a slave in.
And of course Mistress Katherine made sure Beth experience all three of
those.

Except for a couple of unique items, all the leather attire was based in
some way on the structure and function of a simple strap. Nothing more than
a plain black belt that fastened together with a buckle. Some were long,
some were short, some were wide, and some were narrow. Some had metal rings
attached to them for tethers. Some were jumbled together to form intricate
and ominous webs called harnesses. And the worst one of them all was when
the leather strap was turned into a gag.

Beth absolutely hated being gagged! But it seemed Beth's lot in life was to
endure the most what she hated the most. Even to the point of having to
wear a gag to and from work, and up to and including when she went to bed
at night. There too Beth was securely muzzled into forced silent slumber.

Beth hated everything about being gagged. She hated having something
foreign and foul tasting shoved deep into her mouth, and then having it
firmly strapped in place. It didn't matter if it was a rubber ball, a
leather wad, a hard rubber plug or even the dreaded lifelike phallus. She
hated them all equally. She hated how they stretched her jaws wide apart
and made them ache so badly. She hated how it sometimes forced her to drool
around it, down her chin and all over her naked breasts. It made her look
as though a bunch of horny guys had ejaculated their cum all over her.

She hated having her lips and lower face squeezed by one wide strap that
was wrapped around her head and then buckled tightly behind it. Or the
complex set of small narrow straps that formed a head harness, which made
her whole head throb in discomfort and distorted her face into something
surreal and loathsome. But, the positively worst part, that she hated above
all else, about being gagged, was how it made her feel like she was no
longer a human being.

A human being can communicate with speech and facial expressions. Speech
allowed them to display emotions, to convey ideas, to ask and answer
questions, to show how unique, intelligent and worthy as an equal they
truly were. Even in her role as an office bimbo Beth still had the devine
power of speech and was thus still human, all be it on the bottom rung of
that hierarchy ladder. But with a gag in her mouth, all of this was taken
from her. And with it, so was her status as a human being, a person, and a
sensuous woman.

Now she was nothing more than an object, or at best, a grunting salivating
animal. Oh how Beth hated being gagged and how she longed to go back being
the simple lesbian office bimbo of Ms. Katherine Sloan.

But again, she could not show her revulsion. She had to play the part of a
willing receptacle to all manner of things that was put into her sensitive
articulate mouth. And to that, whatever else was used to bind and display
her body in mind numbing, flesh aching, absurdity. For such was the
prescription of Katherine's new and improved plan. Beth's bondage torment
was just one more cross for her to bear.

By far, the leather gags were the worst part of it, but the straps and
harnesses were nothing to look forward too either. Their purpose was
simple. They were to bind, hang or compress Beth's body. And in many
sessions, all three at once.

Every night, without fail, Katherine had Beth bound in some manner. Either
in total tight immobility or just enough to make her constantly aware, like
Paul, that she was no longer the master of her fate, Mistress Katherine
was.

Some nights Beth would be trussed up and put on display like a piece of
art. She would be tightly strapped and severely gagged to some skeleton
like structure that kept her in a fixed posed position like a statue. Her
full breasts and shaved pussy were exposed in all their naked glory. Then
she was placed in front of the window for Paul and other voyeurs to stare
at while Katherine sat in her comfy chair near by, listening to music or
reading a book.

Another night would have Beth strapped inescapably into in a little ball.
Only her lovely head was free to move, but not without a mouth watering
penis gag that she loathed with a passion strapped deeply inside. When Beth
was in this condition she was used as a simple piece of furniture. A mere
object for Katherine to sit on as a chair to work at her desk or as a
footstool to rest her tired aching feet on while watching television. And
all before the prying eyes of peeping tom Paul.

The worst nights for Beth, were when she was placed on top of the cocktail
table as an erotic centerpiece of a hog-tied bound art form. She would be
wearing a large ball gag head harness around her pretty head. A long narrow
strap would be threaded through its top metal ring and out to where her
feet were strapped together at the ankles. The strap was then threaded
through another ring located there and Mistress Katherine would then pull
the strap through its roller buckle causing Beth's head and high-heeled
shoes to move towards one another. When Katherine thought that Beth's
strained condition was at a critical point she would buskle the strap in
place.

When in this position, Beth soon found herself in agony. Her arms, that
were strapped together behind her back with elbows touching and then more
straps used to fix them to her tight leather corset, would immediately
begin to throb. Her legs, that were bound together with more tight straps
at her thighs, knees and ankles, were folded back upon themselves. Thus
making the straps around her legs even more tighter and more physically
taxing to endure. But the worst part for Beth was having her head pulled
tortuously back. Her neck, jaws and head felt like one big throbbing mass
of pain.

Beth was left totally immobile and completely helpless like this. And
except for a continuous low grade moan of pleading mercy, Beth was nothing
more than an attractive piece of stationary surreal modern art.

However, said sounds of suffering did not fall upon deaf ears. Katherine,
in her own strange way, tried to alleviate Beth's physical hurt by
massaging her tender straining flesh with the upmost compassion. Even
though from Paul's perspective, Katherine was concentrating more on
stimulating Beth's prominently displayed female attributes than on any of
her throbbing aching limbs.

Katherine would cuddle and caress Beth's naked breasts and hard nipples.
She would aggressively massage and lightly spank Beth's firm smooth butt
cheeks. And when Beth started to drool uncontrollably around her ball gag,
Katherine placed an empty wine glass under her chin to collect it. Was she
doing this to try and ease Beth's humiliation, even a little bit? Or was
she doing it just so Beth's saliva would not spot her expensive tabletop?
Either way, it was all in keeping with the plan of how a Mistress makes her
devoted slave girl feel loved, and for Paul's benefit.

Katherine would keep Beth in this stressful hog-tie for hours. All the
while trying to encourage her to hang in there, just a little bit longer,
for the sake of the plan, and for her position in California. Katherine's
support for Beth was unrelenting and unconditional. As was her erotic
massage and words of glowing praise for Beth's loyalty and dedication.

Katherine was there for Beth in all ways possible. Even when she was
relaxing quietly in her chair, keeping an intensive watchful eye on Beth's
contorted painful form while sipping a delightful cognac.

Beth did her best to comply with everything Katherine required of her.
Although sometimes she would wonder if Katherine might be getting too
carried away with her desire to win at all costs.

Thankfully, those nights of extreme immobility were few and far between.
Most of the time Katherine just kept Beth gagged and bound with limited
freedom. There was just enough slack between her arms and legs to allow
Beth to move about. Again, it was all for Paul's benifit. To display Beth's
awkward distressing form while trying to accomplish some menial task that
any normal person would find easy to do. It was to show how much Beth loved
her bound sunmissive servitude, and her dominant lesbian Mistress.

Beth's thoughts of the past were quickly broken upon hearing Katherine
entering the room again.

Tonight, Katherine was a charming vision in black. She wore a bra and panty
set in black lace. Nothing sluttish or tarty, that was Beth's department.
Katherine's was warm, comfortable and sexually discrete. Around her
shoulders and flowing behind her like a cloud was a sheer black negligee.
And upon her dainty feet a pair of respectable high-heeled slippers,
decorated with delicate tufts of black fluff. She was in a very pleasant
mood tonight, as her smiling face attested to.

When she made eye contact with Beth she stopped. Katherine remembered her
digital camera and went to her desk to pick it up. As she walked over to
Beth, she made some adjustment to the camera's settings. Once that was
done, she stopped again and took aim through the viewfinder. With a big
smile on her face Katherine euphemistically told Beth to say "cheese"
before snapping the shutter. The picture was for her D/s friends, and Paul.
She set the camera off to the side where her computer was and then
approached Beth again.

"Well slave, how do I look?" She took a whimsical moment to display herself
before Beth. She was making it a point to show all the voyeurs out there
including Paul, the overt contrast between a refined dominant seductive
woman and her fetish bound slave girl. All Beth could do was give a wide
eyed stare of amazement and a couple of grunts of confirmation of Mistress
Katherine's stately erotic beauty.

"I was thinking that we would spend a nice quiet evening together pet. Go
over some mail, sip a little wine and just relax while looking out at the
stars on this clear full moon night. Doesn't that sound nice pet?"

"Mmmm"

"Good, let me unhooked you from that post and you can work yourself over
into a kneeling position at the cocktail table so we can see what Paul has
sent us today." Katherine unfastened Beth's chain tether from the post.

"Here let me help you to the table pet." Katherine then picked up her
outfit matching black riding crop and began to use it on Beth's naked
behind.

"MNNPPPHHH!!!"

"Now quiet down B. You know I have to do this. I contacted my private
investigator before I came back in and he said that Paul is looking at us
right now. So we have to keep increasing the pace of this farce when
opportunity knocks IF we want to be successful. Time is going by much to
fast and we need to take full advantage of every precious moment we have to
sour Paul's taste for you. So, if I swat your rear end like so."

"MMMPPHHH!!"

It's because I have to create an image, a mood if you will, of superiority
and domination over you. And you B must act like you love doing it for me,
by letting me use my crop on you, by standing still and by pushing your
lovely derriere out even further for me to play with. Remember B, we must
look and act the part to be successful. You do understand, don't you?"

"Mmmmmmm"

"Good slave girl! I know I can count on you, here and now, and in
California. That's right pet bend at the waist and stick out that beautiful
ass of yours. Let Paul see how obedient and kinky you are. I have it! Let's
give him a little show on how nice you look in your tarty slave girl
outfit. I can use my crop on you while you parade yourself back and forth
in front of the window. How does that sound slave?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm"

"What was that?"  

"MMPPPHHHH!!!!"

"That's what I like to hear, enthusiasm! Now show me how you can slink your
sexy self around while still being bound and gagged like you are. Remember,
we're doing it for Paul and California so do your best B."

So began Beth's forced parade down the fashion catwalk at the coaching of
Katherine's creative sense of entertainment. The sounds of human flesh
meeting leather, the squeakiness of skin hugging rubber held in check by
tight leather bondage and Beth's simpering whining moans of the proverbial
damsel in distress were the icing on the D/s cake that was now echoing the
visual drama being played out in front of that big window. And all because
of Paul's failure to see what was staring at him right before his eyes. But
tonight he would get a good long look at his pseudo bride to be, dressed to
the nines in all her fetish bondage glory, compliments of Beth's pretend
lesbian lover, Mistress Katherine.

Beth was a magnificent vision of red and black. The rubber was all brightly
colored red and the leather was a dark enslaving black. Viewing such a
contrast of passion and oppression on such a petite feminine form was both
disturbing and exciting at the same time. Hopefully, it was enough to
replace Paul's vision of Beth as his pure righteous Madonna with one of a
hungry salacious whore.

The rubber of Beth's outfit was in the form of a long sleeved leotard with
attached gloves for her hands and pods for her feet. It also had a few
major cutouts. One for each of Beth's breasts and one for her crotch that
extended in back to expose her sumptuous rear end. A red, open faced,
rubber hood was also stretched around her head and down her swan like neck.

Powerful black leather was strategically added for both function and
beauty. It started with her shiny black knee high stiletto boots with their
leather ankle cuffs. Cuffs connected with a shiny silver chain that barely
touched the floor when Beth came to attention with both legs together.
Around her waist was a wide leather belt that looked somewhat like a cinch
corset. It acted as a kind of bondage foundation garment for all the other
leather straps to flow out of, wrap around and then buckle tightly back
upon it.

One of those leather snakes was a crotch strap that disappeared soon after
leaving it's front, and center, base camp position. It headed directly
between poor Beth's pussy lips and then butt cheeks only to raise it's
sinful head again to be fastened tightly in back. Another strap began its
travels upward from center front only to branch into many other straps that
flowed over Beth's shoulders, around her torso and even circled the base of
her breasts forcing them out from her chest into beautiful orbs of naked
salivating virtue.

Behind her back, Beth's arms were folded onto one another, the wrist of one
touching the elbow of the other. A short leather tube was wrapped around
her rubber-covered forearms with a series of smaller leather straps running
down its length to keep her arms fixed tightly in position. Two final
straps completed Beth's ensemble for tonight. One, her wide collar
considered by some to be a posture collar with the word "SLAVE" embossed
boldly in red on it. The other, a leather gag strap with a rubber plug
forced deep into Beth's wet articulate mouth and buckled extra tight behind
her rubber clad head.

Katherine did her best to dress and display Beth as the wanton kinky bitch
in heat that her plan called for. Paul had to be having trouble accepting
his obsession right now. With each butt smacking mincing step Beth took,
Katherine knew Paul's Madonna illusion was crumbling right before his eyes.

"STOP! I think that's enough for one night pet." Katherine's words were
like a pardon to Beth's imprisoned soul. She was so glad that her modeling
career had ended just as fast as it started, and now her burning butt could
begin it's slow cooling off period.

Katherine looked at Beth with dazzled eyes, no doubt the same way that Paul
was seeing her too. Beth was breathing hard through her nose. She was
having some problem catching her breath. Her rubber covered flesh was
bulging over the tight leather straps that kept her chest from expanding to
it's fullness like it wanted to, like it needed to! Then Katherine turned
her eyes to Beth's bottom where she had spent the last ten or so minutes
using her riding crop.

"My goodness B, it looks as though I was a bit too zealous with the crop
upon your beautiful butt. Your derriere is so red and glowing. I dare say
your rear end looks quite like a female baboon in heat now. Here, come with
me to the cocktail table. You can kneel and rest on your haunches. Paul
should still be able to see how red your butt is while we go over today's
mail." Katherine took hold of Beth's collar ring and dragged her over to
the table. She then placed her hands on Beth's shoulders and guided her
down into a kneeling position. Beth eased herself the rest of the way down,
making sure her red cheeks did not come in contact with the pencil type
heels of her boots.

As Katherine positioned herself on the other side of the table in a
comfortable chair, Beth began to relax into her fetish captivity. A warm
feeling of pleasure seemed to be flowing through her body. The pain in her
butt was subsiding and becoming more remarkably delightful. The leather
strap that was rubbing over her wet hungry pussy was becoming more and more
gratifying with each passing second. And the rubber, that she once hated
with a passion, was now making her hot sweaty body feel more sexually alive
then she ever thought possible. Oh yes, the rubber was fast becoming her
most acceptable piece of clothing now. But it was never like that, not in
the beginning.

In the beginning, Beth really hated wearing the rubber outfits. She hated
it ten times more so than being gagged. But now, with Katherine's help, she
had come to almost desire it.

Back in the beginning, when Katherine wanted to REALLY dress Beth in
rubber, Beth became very afraid and almost panic stricken. This was
directly related to how the rubber made her feel once she was wearing it.
She told Katherine on several occasions how she hated that rubber material
and asked her, pleaded with her, if she could wear something else, even the
sexy abbreviated latex instead. But it seemed like the more she complained,
the more Katherine forced her to wear that damn rubber. Almost totally
ignoring her pleas for mercy. Many times Beth thought she was going to
loose her mind when she was dressed in rubber from top to bottom and then
bound and gagged into silent helpless immobility.

What made Beth so panic stricken was how the rubber was ALWAYS so hot,
tight and sweaty?

The latex and leather were tight too, but they had more of a limited tight
"hold" on her instead of a persistent, all engulfing, hot, squeezing and
suffocating "constriction". The rubber seemed to be overpowering and
relentless! It always reminding her that it was there, around her,
compressing her, controlling her and trying to dominate her every second
she wore it, more so than even Katherine! She couldn't move without feeling
the rubber's constant increasing pull on her delicate flesh. She couldn't
take a full breath without fighting against the rubber's python like
constriction, not to mention the ever-present smell and sometimes taste of
the foul stuff.

To Beth the rubber acted as if it was alive! It never took pity on her. It
forever oppressed her. And it quickly became her adversary, her antithesis
for living. Then one night it happened.

That night Katherine planned on pushing the B&D envelope to the max. She
planned on dressing Beth in layer after layer of rubber. Totaling
encapsulating her until only her nostrils and hard erect nipples would have
access to air and freedom. She had some straps made from that same damnable
stuff to bind her with. Then after virtually cocooning her in rubber she
was going to display her in front of the window for hours. Paul would be
able to watch the entire dress up and displaying process through the
undraped window. Thus it was necessary for Beth to act as a more than
willing participant in this intense unfolding chapter of the plan. Beth had
to show Paul how kinky and perverted her sexual cravings had really become.

Beth was drying herself off in the shower when Katherine told her what was
planned for that night. That's when she lost it. Before, Katherine used
only a few rubber items at a time. One night a pair of opera length rubber
gloves and thigh high rubber stockings. Another night, a long length rubber
corset, or a sleeveless rubber leotard with cut outs for her breasts and
pussy. Or just a rubber hood with a large cut out circle that framed her
pretty face. Those items alone were enough to make Beth dread wearing
rubber ever again. But when Katherine told Beth what was in store for her
that night, she completely broke down.

Beth dropped down to her knees and begged Katherine to please not have her
wear the rubber, not tonight, not ever again! Tears were running down her
cheeks and her voice was strained and frightened. Katherine seeing how
terror-stricken Beth was immediately knelt down next to her and hugged her.
She let Beth talk it out, all the reasons why she hated it so. She let Beth
cry it out too while she held her in her caring arms, stroking Beth's hair,
and rocking them both gently.

All the while she continued to tell Beth how everything was going to be all
right. There was nothing to fear. She soothed and consoled the frightened
girl until she quieted down.

When Beth regained her composure she and Katherine sat together on the
bathroom floor. Katherine had one arm around Beth and the other drying her
tears. Then the two had yet another long heartfelt talk like two
girlfriends whose souls had been bonded eternally to one another.

When it was all over Katherine was able to refute all of Beth's emotional
objections to wearing the rubber. Like many things in life, Beth's
antagonism to wearing rubber was based on her limited interpretation from a
narrow perspective. Once Katherine broadened Beth's vision and gave her
another one, a more personal one, Beth seemed to be a little more willing
to try and accept what needed to be done.

Katherine had told Beth of her own revulsion to wearing rubber many years
ago when she was young and experimenting with her boyfriend. Hearing this
made Beth change her focus from her own frightful plight to Katherine's,
her dearest friend. A friend who seemed to share her own same aversion to
rubber, but somehow over came it.

She told Beth how, like her, she quickly came to hate wearing the rubber.
All for the same reasons she did. But her boyfriend absolutely went ape
over her wearing it and she really loved him and wanted to make him happy.
So, she did a little research, some quiet self-reflection and then had an
unbelievable break through about it all, and about herself.

Back then, she was a headstrong and dominant young woman, a hundred times
more so than today. She had a major desire to succeed, her way, in all
facets of her life. Wearing the rubber seemed to attack the very core of
this part of her personality. Then she had remembered a bit of wisdom a
good friend and mentor had told her early in her career. At first she
though it pertained only to the business world, but then she saw how broad
and sweeping his message really was.

He said "the difference between winners and losers is that winners want to
win anyway they can, and losers want to win their way."

It was all a question of perspective and bending with the wind without
breaking. Katherine told Beth how her new revelation had changed her. In
the way she viewed life and the way she responded to wearing the rubber
clothes. Instead of seeing the rubber as her enemy, to her womanhood, to
her image as an unique and capable human being, she began to see it as an
ally, a friend. A dear friend who's ever present constriction was analogous
to the tender warm hug of a dear sweet lover. A complete body embrace, rich
with passion, love and security.

She accepted it on it's terms, submitted to it, flowed into it, let her
body be engulfed by it, stimulated by it, and yes, she even masturbated
with it. A whole new world opened up for her that day. And it all started
with, of all things, those damn rubber clothes.

Beth remembered how mesmerized she was listening to Katherine's story. Not
with just the story, or hearing how her mentor and dear friend obtained
sexual relief in what some might call a depraved kind of way, but the way
she told her tale, with such feeling, intimacy and without guilt. Beth was
awe struck. Never had Katherine shared such a tender and personal account
of her life with her. Not only was Beth touched by her story and how it
related directly to her, but how much Katherine trusted her in revealing so
much of her private side to her that Beth was willing to put forth the
effort to try again. To emulate her mentor and dear close friend. To wear
the rubber and look upon it from a completely different perspective.

Beth also remembered how Katherine left her. A final long hug, a gentle
sweet kiss on the lips and an order to get herself ready with talcum powder
while she prepared herself. A short while later Beth entered the great room
to find Katherine waiting for her. She was dressed in rubber. A black
sleeveless mini dress that looked two sizes too small. Her breasts and
femininity compressed firmly with her hard erect nipples showing only as
little flat buttons.

At the same time the rubber accented her waist and hips into full womanly
curves. She dressed herself in rubber as a gesture of support and
sisterhood. Once again Katherine showed how much she really thought of
Beth, not just in words but also in deeds. With such a woman like Katherine
on her side, how could Beth fail. So she approached her with a broad smile
on her lips and a single tear running down her cheek. Tonight Beth would
blindly follow wherever Katherine led.

Beth remembered that night very clearly. Katherine had given her the same
red rubber leotard she was wearing now only in back. Then she told Beth to
examine it first, to play with it and rub it all over her body. Katherine
wanted Beth to see it as a thing of beauty that would make her lovely
feminine form even more beautiful when SHE decided to put it on. She wanted
her to feel it upon her skin as a cool, smooth, excitingly sensuous
garment. The sensations would increase ten fold when it covered her soft
sensual skin. Beth should drink long and deep of its unique and powerful
fragrance, a scent that would soon engulf her soul as the garment would her
body.

It wasn't long before Beth was eagerly pulling on the rubber leotard
without any coaxing from Katherine. As soon as Katherine zipped Beth into
it, she began what one could only describe as an erotic melding of two
kindred spirits, one alive, the other just a piece of rubber. The way she
stretched, twisted and caressed herself while in the rubber suit was an
astounding sight to behold. Her rubber-clad hands sought out and slowly
cuddled her naked yearning breasts. Her full rounded derriere was rubbed,
grasped and playfully spanked by her own hands. The taunt rubber nuzzled
her hairless wet pussy. Beth seemed to be oblivious to all around her, to
Katherine, to Paul, and the many other voyeurs staring at her, at her
passionate discovery of her rubber skinned self.

When Katherine walked up to Beth carrying more items of black rubber she
smiled at her with a kind of wonderful dreamy look. For a short while their
roles were reversed, Katherine became Beth's servant, her dressing maid, as
she held out each garment for her to put on. First was a pair of thigh high
hose that snapped and crackled as they were put on. Next came a pair of
elbow length gloves that took some time to work over her already rubber
clad fingers.

Third was a G-string with small little nubs that fell directly over Beth's
hungry wet pussy. This item was easy for Beth to get into and her fingers
lingered around it until Katherine held open a pair of panties for her.

The panty covered most of her rear end and seemed to push the rubber nubs
of the G-string further against her sensitive love nest. One last crotch
covering was presented to Beth in the form of a thigh length pair of rubber
tights. Once she wiggled herself into these her entire crotch seem aroused,
hot and sweaty. But at the same time, almost numb to the touch of her
finger.

While Beth tried to alleviate the sexual itch between her legs, Katherine
produced two more garments in black. The first was a full cup rubber bra,
and like the G-string, it too had a series of hard rubber nubs lining the
inside of the cups. When Beth was fitted into it, she found her hard erect
nipples sticking out through the small opening in each breast cup. And
whemn she massaged her rubber clad breasts, she could feel the hard nubs
poking into her soft supple flesh with a pleasant, and highly erotic
effect.

The other garment was the once dreaded long line, very thick and heavily
boned, rubber corset. It went from the top of her hot rounded thighs to
just under her proud delicious breasts. Beth's eyes seem to glow with eager
anticipation as she felt Katherine wrap it around her torso and then
fastened the front clasps. Beth could barely feel the dangling rubber
garter straps that bounced against her multi-layered thighs. While
Katherine pulled on the back laces, Beth closed her eyes and focused her
awareness on having her torso constricted by the loving embrace of her
recently discovered rubber friend.

All through the lacing process Beth's hands were busy stroking and fondling
her new rubber skin. Little, soft, closed mouth moans echoed her self-
absorbed sweet torment. When the corset was laced closed, Katherine
stretched its garter straps to clip them to the tops of Beth's rubber hose.
Each one she would let snap back against Beth's thighs causing the girl to
let out a open mouth gasp that seemed to reflect a moment of stinging
pleasure.

Beth had her eyes closed in a kind of delicious hypnotic trance when
Katherine pulled her hands away from fondling herself and positioned them
behind her back. She used one of the long rubber straps to tie Beth's
wrists together and then wound it up both arms all the way to her elbows.
Beth didn't mind the tightness or her helplessness one little bit. She just
stayed in her erotic euphoria.

Katherine quickly took a second much longer and much wider rubber strap and
used one end of it to bind Beth's ankles together. Then she began wrapping
the strap around Beth's swaying rubber-encased body like a child with a
ribbon around the maypole. Only Katherine was more conscientious as to
where the rubber band went on Beth's body. She made certain the rubber was
stretched taunt first before it was wrapped tightly around the semi
unconscious Beth. The binding strap was long enough to go from Beth's
ankles all the way up to just under Beth's breasts, and then back down
again. It was tired off at the ankles usuing the same end that was use to
start the whole rubber wraping in the first place.

Beth was in a state of total rubber immersion. Her eyes were shut, her
mouth open, her breathing soft and shallow as she remained in a standing
position enjoying a feeling of sublime ecstasy.

Katherine stepped behind Beth and said one word "open". And like the door
to Ali Baba's cave Beth's mouth began to open wide. Katherine started
pushing a rubber plug deep into her mouth and all the while Beth remained
in her state of bliss with only a faint moan or groan that accompanied a
push or a shove on the rubber probe.

When Katherine was satisfied with the depth of the probe's insertion into
her willing slave's succulent mouth she wrapped the attached thick rubber
hood around Beth's head, making sure the breathing tubes were well placed
up inside Beth's nostrils. She then pulled and tugged the rubber edges
together in back while she zipped the hood closed from the top of her head
to the base of her neck.

Given that the rubber hood was thick and tight, a generic female face was
molded into the front of it. This way no part of Beth's face was compressed
more than any other. However, her entire face was forced firmly in contact
with the hot sweaty rubber and her lungs began to fill with its
intoxicating aroma.

The only item used on Beth that was not made of rubber was the same SLAVE
embossed leather collar that she now wore. And it too was padlocked closed.

Katherine took hold off her rubber-cocooned slave and cautiously lowered
her down upon the top of the cocktail table. She wound and tied off a
rubber strap around Beth's legs, waist and above her chest binding her
rubber slave girl to the table for safety. Then walking around to the long
side furthest away from the window, Katherine began touching and stroking
her mummy of rubber.

She could see weak undulating muscle movements in the rubber. Small wave-
like quivers traveling up and down Beth's entombed body. And she could hear
a faint whistle like sound coming from the breathing tubes in her nose.
Katherine noted how tranquil and completely relaxed Beth was, a major
difference from her panicky state an hour or so before. Then Katherine
decided to raise the level of excitement up one more notch, mostly for
Paul.

She collected a heavy duty vibrator and forced it between and under the
rubber cocooning straps until it was securely placed right over the multi-
layered rubber covering of Beth's pussy. A wire lead from it to a little
box she had set on the arm of her comfy chair.

Katherine then took two small egg shaped plastic clamps and fitted them
over each of Beth's exposed plump nipples until they were touching the
exposed areolas. A muffled audible groan was heard from Katherine's rubber
doll when these devices were clamped around each nipple. These two devices
also had wires leading from them to Katherine's little black box.

Katherine relaxed back into her chair and placed the black box, with it's
assortment of switches and knobs, upon her lap. She took a moment to stare
out of the window and into one area of a particular building directly
across from hers. Her lips formed a very sinful and satisfied smile as she
mouthed a few silent words.

Then, without looking at Beth, she flicked on a switch and slowly twisted a
single knob. A soft low hum began. A hum that grew in intensity as did the
rippling of Beth's muscles, as did the moans and groans of a deep seated
pleasure, and as did the strength of her breath through the rubber tubes.

The vibrations at her crotch were transmitted through the layers of rubber
until they were focused directly into Beth's oozing pussy by the hard nubs
that covered her there. One particular nub just happened to be in direct
contact with her more than receptive clit.

Her nipple clamps were really vibrating clamps. Their pulsating rhythms
were carried deep into Beth's quivering breasts. And those rubber nubs in
her rubber bra added immeasurably to her ever expanding pleasure spiral.

Oh yes, Beth remembered that night well. When the entire universe exploded
before her, even though she remained tightly sealed inside her multi-
layered rubber cocoon. Strange, how the tight rubber seemed to numb her
flesh into a state of helpless security, while her mind soared in a kind of
sublime waking dream. The very core of her being was ushered quickly into
the bizarre realm of intense sexuality. A surreal reality where she was
powerless to fight against or have any control over. And one she would
submit herself to, and flow with, until Mistress Katherine decided when it
was time for her to have a series of mind blowing organisms.

It was a night to remember. And if her memories became tattered, she could
always watch the video Katherine made from start to finish of that
wonderfully kinky night. Or she could look at the many pictures that
chronicled her passage into becoming nothing more than a rubber devotee
herself. Those same pictures, and video, that was sent to Paul in the mail.

"Oh here it is pet!" Katherine's excited discovery brought Beth back to the
present. A time where Katherine was dressed in her sedate manner and
sitting on the edge of her comfy chair, opening a brown envelope that Paul
had sent to them. While Beth was dressed in rubber, bound in leather and
gagged most foully kneeling close to Katherine like a faithful pet watching
her owner perform some task that was dedicated to a superior species.

"My goodness! Paul sure didn't like what we sent him last time. It looks
like he ripped up several pictures and then marked up the rest. I have an
idea! Why don't you try and put the torn up pieces back together again,
like a puzzle, while I go and prepare the next set of pictures to send to
him."

"MMPPHH?"

"I know pet, your all tied up and can't use your hands. But you can still
try. Use your nose B. I'll come back in a little while to see how you're
doing." Katherine patted Beth on her head and moved off to her desk where
the camera and computer equipment were kept.

Beth gave a shallow sigh. Her stringent outfit and bondage would allow
nothing more. She tried to work the torn pieces with her nose, but it was
just too difficult for her. So she sat back on her haunches and waited for
Katherine to return. In the mean time, she began to look at the other
pictures on the table.

She tried to shake her head in disbelief in what she saw, but her posture
collar prevented it. How could that person in those pictures be her? She
looked at them one by one. There was the one of her on display again. Her
legs were strapped together at ankles, knees and thighs. She was standing
in the center of a large square, wooden frame. Leather cuffs fastened
around each of her wrists and then pulled her arms to the top two corners
of the frame. Her position made her look like the letter "Y". A ball gag
and head harness had been used and its top ring was pulled upwards to a
clip on the top beam. It pulled her head up high and forced it to stay like
that. A wide leather belt with many buckles had been harshly cinched around
her waist and a narrow crotch strap attached to it was threaded deeply
between her pussy lips and butt cheeks. She remembered how it felt, like
she was being cut in two. A memory she did not like dwelling on in the
least, so she moved on to another picture.

The next one was worst. She wore the same belt and crotch strap, but now
the picture represented what Katherine called her method of discipline. It
was to show Paul how Mistress Katherine punished her slave when she became
unruly and in need of discipline, which Beth never did.

It showed her bent over at the waist with her head and wrists in a wooden
stock. The same stock that was used back in the time of the pilgrims to
publicly chastise and humiliate sinful town's folk. In her mouth was a bit
gag, a hard rubber rod forced deep between her wide stretched teeth and
fastened behind her head with a leather strap. On her legs, Katherine put a
leather sheath. A cross between an ankle length skirt and a corset. It was
so thick and heavily boned that once it was laced up she felt like her legs
were fused together and totally unable to bend at the knees. It also had a
large hole in back where her entire fleshy derriere was forced out of.

Positioned like this Mistress Katherine used an assortment of paddles,
crops and floggers on her helpless innocent butt cheeks. The combination of
the stocks and unyielding hobble skirt made it impossible for Beth to move
away from getting her ass thrashed. The picture showed her after the
chastisement with a very red butt. It also showed her with a pair of biting
nipple clamps and their associated heavy weights hanging from them.
Katherine added them early in the session to both add to Beth's visual
plight and to keep her from hopping around during her punishment.

"Let's see how you're doing pet?"

Beth's stiffly held body jerked at being surprised by Katherine's return.

"Oh for goodness sakes B! You haven't done a single thing yet, obviously
you need a little incentive."

Beth's eyes went wide when she heard that remark. She knew she was in
trouble now, but before she could grunt out a plea for mercy Katherine was
already fastening a pair of chain linked clamps onto her poor erect
nipples. She even added a large padlock around the chain as a weight that
pulled down on her distressed teats.

"MMPPPPPHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

"Be quiet pet! Now, you have a choice. You can either put those torn pieces
back together again, after which, I will remove your nipple clamps, OR, you
can continue your lazyness and I will add two or three more padlocks to the
chain. Then you can stay like that for the rest of the night. It's your
choice B. I'll be back in twenty minutes to see what you decided."

Beth squeezed her eyes shut against the pain radiating into her breasts
from the downward pull on her nipples. She opened her eyes and a tear began
to roll down her rubber-clad cheek. Once again, she was forced to make a
choice in the lesser of two evils.

She began to lean forward and try to piece the puzzle back together. The
weight shifted out in front of her, swinging in the process it banged into
the table. She immediately straightened her torso up again. The movement of
the weight increased tremendously the pain she was already feeling in her
tormented breasts and nipples.

She pondered a moment, which would be worse? Suffer the random spiking pain
as she tried to put the puzzle back together again. Or, remain still and
bear the present throb only to have it increased ten fold when Katherine
returned, AND, for the rest of the night. Neither choice was desirable.

She decided to get it over with now. She tried her best to put the pictures
back together with her nose while causing the least amount of self
inflicting pain in the process, but she wasn't having much success. Again,
she saw Paul as the one responsible for making her life a living hell, not
Katherine.

It wasn't long before Beth was almost done. What looked like a few pictures
turned out to be just one. One that was a series of smaller ones all put
together in one print. It was a sequence of pictures of the night when
Katherine had shaved her pussy bald. The first one was of her on her back
atop the same table she had just assembled the puzzle on. Her wrists and
ankles where tied to the bottom of the table legs and she was nude except
for heels, a leather blindfold and a simple ball gag. Between her and the
table was a drop cloth that Katherine used to protect the expensive marble
tabletop.

The next couple of pictures were close-ups of her hairy pussy with her legs
spread wide apart. One, with Katherine pulling on her pubic hair
haphazardly, and the other, with her pulling on the hair so as to stretch
and separate her labia lips. From this photo she could see how wet she was.
And anyone who viewed this photo had to believe that being played like this
was sexually arousing for her. Which, at the time, was exactly the
opposite.

The pictures that followed showed how Katherine used an old fashioned
shaving brush to coat her entire pussy and pubic area in a frothy white
lather. She readily remembered how good it felt being touched like that.
How the soothing, warm, creamy foam seemed to caress her hairy flesh. The
manner in which the soft bristles circled around and around her hooded love
nest, like a gentle erotic massage. This memory alone almost made her
forget her present tormented condition.

Then a few more pictures of Katherine removing her intimate privacy with a
double blade safety razor. At the time, she was so scared that Katherine
might accidentally cut or nick her, that her whole body was frozen solid
with fear.

Two final pictures remained in the sequence. One was a close-up of her
cleanly shaven pussy in all its naked glory. The other was a full-length
picture of her prostrated, bound, and gagged self, with her new, younger,
and innocent looking little girl pussy taking center stage.

A few moments later Katherine returned.

"Ahh, now I see why I thought there was more than one picture there. A job
well done pet, you deserve a reward. Would you like me to remove those
weighted nipple clamps for you now slave?"

"MMMMMM!"

"Ok B. Get ready."

Beth knew what Katherine meant by "get ready" from the first time she had
experienced having nipple clamps removed during her punishment session with
the wooden stock and hobble skirt. She thought it would feel a whole lot
better when they were removed, but again she was wrong. A wave of pain
almost on the same level as when they were first put on rushed through her
breasts and nipples. She had yelled in startled muffled surprise at the
agony she felt that first time. Katherine had to quickly finger her nipples
and massage her breasts in an attempt to rub the pain away post haste.

This time Beth squinted her eyes shut and groaned in an incresing pitch
as the flash of pain coursed through her chest. And, just like all the
other times, Katherine did her best to rub the pain away for her.

"There you go pet. All better now." Katherine left Beth to take her place
back in the comfy chair.

"Well B, what do you say about sending these pictures to Paul?" Katherine
placed three in front of her.

They were all the same size, as always, eight and a half by eleven, and all
in full brilliant color. One was a picture of her as she was tonight,
chained to the wooden pillar. The second was of her while she was putting
the picture puzzle together, weighted nipple clamps and all. The third was
the one Katherine always sent to Paul. It showed Katherine leaning back in
the chair, one leg spread off to the side and the other pulled wide and
draped over the chair's armrest. Kneeling before her with arms bound behind
her was Beth, her head buried in Katherine's crotch while one of
Katherine's hands was behind Beth's head holding it firmly in place.
Katherine's face beamed in exultation as if she were in the throes of
erotic ecstasy.

The picture was self-evident. Beth, the lesbian bimbo slave girl, was
giving her Mistress Katherine oral sex. At least that's what the picture
looked like. In reality, Beth's forehead was resting on the panty covered
pubic hair of Katherine. It was a simulated sex scene designed to make Paul
believe that his very moral heterosexual wife to be, the mother of his
future children, was in reality a lesbian, with a great desire to eat
pussy.

Beth remembered Katherine telling her what they were going to do an hour or
so before they actually did it. She wanted to prepare Beth and not shock
her, but Beth was still shocked to hear what Katherine had planned and
almost quit right then and there. Katherine had to tell her over and over
again how it wasn't going to be real, more like slight of hand or trick
photography. And after awhile, with more of Katherine's enlightening and
compassionate influence, Beth did have to admit, it would be the cherry on
the cake in making Paul believe that she wasn't what he thought she was.

So, she followed Katherine's lead promising to do her best to make it look
as believable as possible. And when it did happen, Beth took on the aura of
a disembodied bondage fetish doll. She was being pulled here, positioned on
her knees there, and letting her head be forced deep into Katherine's
hungry crotch. All without even the slightest resistance, as if she had
done it a thousand times before. The only bad part was whenever Beth looked
at that photo, for some reason, she could still smell that heavy odor of
sex emanating from Katherine's covered pussy from that one time.

Beth watched while Katherine gathered up the pictures and placed them in
the brown envelope. She could see the name written on the outside of it in
big letters "Paul, the doubting Thomas".

"There we go pet, all finished." Katherine stroked and patted Beth's rubber
covered head and then stood up. She told Beth to "STAY" with the associated
flat hand gesture to reinforced the command before taking the envelope to
another part of the room.

Being seen, controlled and finally responding like a household pet no
longer evoked a gut-wrenching wave of shame and guilt like it did in the
beginning for Beth. She had either successfully repressed those natural
human responses to a damaged self-esteem or rationalized them into silent
acceptance as part of her actress's role in Katherine's new and improved
plan. Whatever the reason, it made her appearance as a well trained
domesticated animal all the more believable to the casual observer and,
hopefully, Paul.

Beth heard soft mellow music playing in the background. She watched as
Katherine poured herself a glass of red wine and casually walked to the
window. She was looking out into the star lit night. Then, without making
eye contact, she said "Pet, come" and gently tapped her hand on the side of
her leg.

If Katherine had said "B, come", then Beth would have slowly and cautiously
worked herself upright and minced over to where Katherine stood. But she
said the word pet, which meant for her to crawl over to her Mistress on her
knees.

Beth did her best to hurry, but having her ankles shackled and some
"special furniture" in her path caused her to take the scenic route. When
she did get to her place next to Katherine, a bit out of breath, she
nuzzled the side of Katherine's leg with her face.

Again, without looking, Katherine's hand dropped to her side and cupped
Beth's chin, her thumb lightly stroking the top of Beth's puffed out cheek.

"Isn't it a beautiful night pet?"

"Mmm"

"The sky is so clear and the stars so bright. I wonder if we will have such
wonderful nights like this in California. What do you think pet?"

"mmm  mpphhh  mggff"

"Me too Beth. Me too."


***************************************************************************

Part 4 - "An Arresting Situation" Coming Tuesday

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 4)


                       "An Arresting Situation"


The workday was over and so was their meal. Katherine and Beth had dined
out at a local Chinese restaurant. It was a small out of the way place with
good food and a nice warm atmosphere. They received their usual concerned
stares and whispers about how Beth looked and was treated by her
questionable friend, Mistress Katherine.

They both knew this public display was necessary, if they wanted Paul out
of their lives forever. Thus, they both left the same way as they came in.
The austere woman of distinction followed by the flashy dressed submissive
bimbo.

Driving back to her apartment building Katherine took an unexpected turn
and pulled the car off to the side of the curb. She put the car in park,
but kept the engine running.

"Ok B, I want you to go into that corner store and get two items, a pack of
bubble gum and a carton of condoms. Here is the money. And make sure you
get the correct change this time! Lately you seem to be living up to your
scattered brain status for some reason." Katherine then tucked a $50 bill
in the cleavage of Beth's bulging breasts.

"Yes Mistress, B understands your concern." Beth didn't think she deserved
that last comment. She only messed up once and that was by accident.

"Mistress, why does B need to buy condoms," inquired a disquieted Beth as
she pondered what Katherine might have in mind for her with all those latex
cock sheaths.

"Oh for goodness sakes! Must I explain everything to you B? You're my bimbo
slave girl, remember? You are just to DO, not ask any questions. But just
this once I'll tell you. They're a joke gift for a friend of mine.
Satisfied nosey slave girl!"

"Yes Mistress Katherine, B is sorry for asking you why Mistress. B will do
better next time Mistress." Beth breathed a sigh of relief when she heard
that she wasn't the one who was to provide the orifice to be filled by said
items.

"That's a good slave. Now, when you're done just wait for me outside that
store, right over there on corner. I will be going to an ATM a couple
blocks away and will be only a few minutes. Do you have any questions about
that too slave girl B?" Katherine's voice was very sarcastic this time.

"No Mistress, B understands completely. B will do exactly what you told her
to do Mistress."

"Good! Now give your Mistress a nice little kiss and get yourself going."

Beth knew what Katherine wanted and it wasn't a simple little peck on the
cheek. Beth had to lean forward as much as she could making sure her
breasts were thrust up and out as far as they would go without popping out
of her tight dress. She then had to close her eyes, tilt her head back and
really pucker up her bright pink lips so her big smooching mouth seemed to
dominate her whole sluttish face.

Katherine would let her stay like that for a while. Sometimes she would
affectionately stroke the side of Beth's face with her hand, all the way
down her smooth feminine neck. Other times she would take her fingertips
and slowly trace along the rim of full supple lips. Of course, when she did
this, Beth knew that sooner or later Katherine was going to stick her
finger between her lips and then deep into her mouth, sometimes two or
three at a time. That was her cue to begin sucking on them. Her cheeks
would slowly cave in on themselves as she made little sensuous moans of
pleasure, even though she felt embarrassed beyond belief. Katherine would
then enthusiastically explore her slave girl's warm passionate mouth. She
would rub her fingers over the top of Beth's delicate sensitive tongue and
then along the smooth slippery surface of her inner cheeks.

Beth was glad that Katherine ordered her to keep her eyes closed. For if
she happened to see someone on the outside watching her give Katherine's
fingers a first class blow job, she would have been embarrassed to tears.

Tonight, however, Katherine was merciful. She only let a few minutes go by
before she gave Beth a little peck on the lips. Then Beth left the car and
headed for the store as Katherine drove away.

Beth never relished this part. And she knew Katherine did it on purpose.
Her excuse was for Paul to see her alone in public still playing her bimbo
role to the hilt. That is why she was now forced to walk half a block in
order to get to the store. Katherine wanted Paul, as well as everyone else,
to see how bimbo B had dressed for work on "casual Friday". That was a
little joke Katherine liked to tell. But Beth really didn't see much humor
in it since the joke was on her, or more appropriately WAS her.

Today Beth was the essence of a street slut. She wore her standard six-inch
heels in hot pink. On her arms were fingerless shoulder length, latex
gloves, also in glowing pink that matched her nail polish. She wore a body
hugging shoulder strapped latex mini dress, again in dazzling fluorescent
pink. Even her big hair and heavy makeup favored that trailer trash pink
color. Pink might have been a symbolic color of femininity for the average
woman, but the hot pink that Beth wore screamed "hot bitch on the hoof,
come and get me baby!"

It seemed like strutting down the sidewalk, parading her bimbo character
without inhibitions, was becoming second nature for Beth. She no longer had
to make a conscious effort to roll her hips, bounce her tits, wag her ass,
or even wave her arms from side to side as she walked along. She thought
the reason was because of her restrictive clothes and stiletto heels. But
in reality, Beth was re-identifying herself on the inside as well as out.
She was no longer simply playing a role, but in fact was taking on the
permanent identity of a bimbo. Even if she was able to dress like she did
once upon a time, she would still find herself doing the bump and grind
prance of a Las Vegas showgirl.

After walking past the barrage of wolf whistles and salacious invitations
by smiling drooling men, not to mention the angry stares and name calling
of "slut", "whore" and "tramp" by women, she finally made it to the store.
She began to wonder why such a derogatory experience like that no longer
affected her as much as it once did. Poor Beth was in full denial of what
she was unconsciously becoming.

Once in the store, she was relieved to see only two people inside. A middle
age woman behind the cash register and another slightly older woman, a
customer, dressed very conservatively talking with her. They both had
rather stern looks on their faces as they watched her swaggered deeper
inside. Beth thought that the best move here was to get what she needed and
then leave as quickly as possible.

Beth found the gum on the bottom shelf. Normally, when she was her "normal"
old self, she would have bent at the knees to get the gum. But all the
training Mistress Katherine had pushed on her seemed to become the norm
now. Beth picked up the gum by keeping her legs straight and then bent over
at the waist.

When she did this, she exposed her entire naked butt to the two women. Why
she didn't turn her butt in the other direction she didn't know. She simply
flashed them as if it was an every day occurrence.

Both women gasped with insulted surprise when they saw the panty-less
derriere that stuck right out at them. That's when Beth realized what she
was doing and to whom she was doing it to. She immediately straightened
herself back up, covered her butt with her hands and turned around quickly
to face the women. A surprised, big eyed, open mouth pout was now an
engraved part of Beth's airhead repertoire.

This only resulted in another shocking experience for the two moral women.
For the tight skirt that was part of Beth's latex dress was now caught and
jumbled up around her waist. Poor bimbo Beth was again flashing the two
women, but this time with her naked shaved pussy.

Shocked and outraged at the horrendous actions of this obscene, disgraceful
street slut in flamboyant pink, the two women quickly turned away
muttering, "bitch" and "whore" under their breath.

Beth knew she had made an absent minded mistake and was going to apologies
to the two women, but they seemed to be well intent on ignoring her
completely now. Thus, under the present cold shoulder circumstances, Beth
thought it best to just hurried on with her task and get out before things
got any worst.

With red face, Beth pulled her short latex dress back down and then tried
to find the condoms with no luck. So, reluctantly, she walked up to the
register and asked the cashier. Once again her training as a bimbo
dominated over her normal speaking voice as the words came out high pitched
and squeaky. She even giggled nervously afterwards completely oblivious
that she had even done so.

The cashier excused herself from the other woman and went to get the item
Beth wanted. She returned with a single packet and tossed it on the counter
in front of Beth as she went to ring up the purchase. The cashier wanted as
little to do with this gutter tramp as was possible.

Beth looked down at the single item and again in a high pitched voice said
to the cashier, "Excuse me, but B needs to have a carton of these condoms,
not just one."

Beth knew how stupid it was as soon as she said it. She had referred to
herself in the third person and called herself the letter "B", her slave
name. How could something so easy be turned into such a horrible nightmare.
It seemed no matter how hard she tried she still kept on screwing things
up. Maybe she was becoming a big air headed just like Katherine suggested.

The cashier looked at Beth with disdain, she was angry. She then marched
over to the back shelf, talking to herself quietly about how incredibly
stupid some women are. She picked up the requested carton, walked back to
the counter and, still muttering angrily, slammed the article down on the
counter. She rang up the sale using the cash register as a punching bag.

Beth knew the cashier's anger was directed at her. Which caused an
embarrassing feeling to well up inside of her that made her face turn an
even deeper shade of red. Beth didn't bother to look at the other woman.
For she could feel the other woman's eyes upon her, watching what was going
on with all the anger, contempt and loathing that the cashier was showing.

A short time later the cashier told her the total and Beth reached into her
cleavage for the money. By this time Beth had become very nervous. The
harder she tried to retrieve the money from between her bulging breasts the
further down between them it went. After a few more minutes of digging, she
finally did pull out the fifty dollar bill. Her big trembling breasts
almost coming out with it. She then handed the money to the cashier.

The cashier couldn't believe what just happened. She looked at the money as
if it was diseased and shook her head no.

Beth became anxious and started doing her little girl routine as if asking
permission to go to the washroom. She began moving up and down, with her
breasts bouncing obscenely. Her hands began flapping around in mid air as a
distressing expression formed on her heavily made-up face. And in her most
pitiful girly voice, she pleaded with the cashier to please take the money.

The cashier started to laugh. Her anger was replaced with humor by the
antics of her customer. The other woman also saw the hilarity of it all and
was soon laughing out loud too at the sight of the bizarre woman in glowing
pink. The two woman began pointing at Beth and sarcastically calling her
"Cry baby!" and asking, "Does baby want her bottle?" They then suggested
that, "Maybe the poor baby wet herself and needs her diaper changed." The
two women were soon becoming hysterical with laughter at Beth's expense.

At that point all Beth wanted to do was to get the hell out of there! She
dropped the bill on the counter, took her bagged chewing gum and carton of
condoms, and high tailed it out of the store. Katherine, Mistress
Katherine, would surely understand why she didn't wait for her change after
she tells her what happened, wouldn't she?

Once outside Beth looked for Katherine's car, but it was no-where to be
seen. She wanted to run as far away from the store as she could, but she
had to follow orders and wait for Katherine to pick her up. She had already
screwed up the purchase and feared a second mishap would bring her even
more unwanted torment from the hands of her Mistress. So she waited at the
corner.

Beth looked like the typical street corner prostitute on the prowl for a
deep pocket John. She was strutting her delicious self back and forth
waiting for her Mistress's return. Sometimes she would stand still, but
assumed the bimbo pose she had been trained to do by Katherine. She even
mindlessly popped bubbles with the gum in her mouth to help alleviate the
tension that was building up inside of her. But that only added to her
cheap whorish appearance. Beth's bimbo persona had now become a fully
ingrained instinctive response. Going back to her normal self would not be
as easy as she might have thought.

Her exotic presence on the corner did not go unnoticed. Many a passerby
would comment on her wanton prostitute presents. Some asking her, without
even a second thought, how much she charged for a blow job, a fuck, or
taking it up her hot, sexy, tight ass. Beth was amazed, insulted and
angered at how she was talked to by the local cavemen, not to mention the
one or two women who also found her appealing. She was about to yell back
some foul comments in return, but remembering what just happened with the
shopkeeper she decided to simply ignore them. Better to be thought of as
whore than to speak and remove all doubt.

But she could not ignore them completely as her increasingly nervous and
agitated state showed. Her movements became even more pronounced as her
bouncing tits, grinding hips and gum popping synchronization made things a
hundred times worst.

A few minutes had gone by when all of a sudden a police car pulled up. Two
women cops got out of it and walked slowly over to her. Beth knew she was
in serious trouble and prayed that Katherine would show up soon, very soon!

One of the policewomen told her they received a call that a woman matching
her description was turning tricks on this corner. Beth was stunned. It had
to be those two women in the store who called them and told such lies. Beth
told the police what happened, but her high pitch voice made her side of
the story sound stupid as the grinning faces of the policewomen attested
to.

It seem the more Beth tried to explain her situation, the more she made the
case against herself. It was quickly going from bad to worst for Beth, but
she still had not quite hit bottom.

The police finally asked her for ID. She had none. They asked her what was
in the paper bag. She reluctantly showed them the carton of rubbers. They
asked her if she was wearing any underwear. Beth crossed her hands in front
of her crotch, lowered her face in shame and shook her head no. The police
told her they had no choice. They had to take her in.

Beth tried to plead with them not to, to let her go, that her Mistress
would soon be here and she would explain everything. The two officers just
began laughing at her antics. It was hard to take such a flamboyant bimbo
street whore seriously, especially one so well established in her role.
They each took one of her arms and began to lead her to the squad car.

Beth resisted, still maintaining they were making a mistake. She kept
telling them that all they had to do was to wait for Katherine. But the
more Beth resisted, the more serious the policewomen became. It got to the
point were they had to use force and handcuff her wrists behind her back,
but Beth continued to be combatant. The policewomen had to use another pair
of handcuffs on her arms, just above her elbows. This slowed Beth down, but
it certainly didn't stop her. Then the cops added a pair of leg irons that
locked around her ankles. Now Beth was a lot easier to handle as they
pushed and shoved her into the back seat of the police car.

Unfortunately, this is where Beth really lost it. She started to yell and
scream all manners of profanities at the officers. She told them in no
uncertain terms that they were making a big mistake. That they were the
stupid ones not her. And that they were going to loose their jobs over this
and have to become real street whore's, which she definitely wasn't! Beth
was adding the icing to the cake. She was acting exactly like an irate
vulgar prostitute being placed under arrest.

Now it was the two policewomen who had had enough. They had a brief
conversation about using some kind of new device to quiet down boisterous
and loud-mouthed offenders. So they went to the trunk to fetch it.

In a desperate attempt to work her arms free from the handcuffs, Beth
somehow managed to work her tight skirt up around her waist and also caused
one of her bouncing jiggling breasts to pop out of its hot pink latex
covering.

The next thing Beth knew was that the policewomen were back in the backseat
with her, one of them on each sise. Beth continued her ranting and raving
when one of the cops suddenly grabbed her chin with one hand and pinched
her nose closed with the other.

Beth tried to break free, but the policewoman was far too strong. She tried
to keep her mouth shut, but soon found that she needed air to breath. She
opened her mouth just a little and the officer pinched the sides of her
cheeks into her mouth pushing them into the gap between her teeth. This
hurt Beth and the only way she found to alleviate the pain was to open her
mouth even more. The lady cop continued the pressure on Beth's cheeks and
soon had her mouth wide open. And it was kept that way by the officer's
solid grip on Beth's face.

At that point Beth began to make distressing noises and tried to swear at
the cops, but most of the words came out sounding funny. The officer took
her hand away from Beth's nose and rapidly clamped it behind her head. The
lady cop was in full control now as she forcibly bent Beth's head back
until Beth looked like a baby bird beckoning to receive a worm.

Beth watched in wide eyed horror as the other cop held what looked like a
black stubby cigar in front of her mouth. It had some sort of small black
tube leading from the back end of it and that's all she saw. For the other
rounded end was quickly approaching her gapping mouth. She knew what was
going to happen as soon as she heard one of the cops say, "Say ahhhhh
slut!"

Beth closed her eyes as the thing was pushed into her forced open mouth. It
tasted foul, like rubber, as it slipped passed her tongue. She heard a
hissing noise and felt the thing begin to expand. That's when she began to
fight in earnest. But restrained by the metal cuffs and held firmly by the
other cop's grip, her best efforts were useless. Her mumbled words soon
became intense groans for mercy as the other lady cop continued to squeeze
the air pump bulb.

The growing thing forced her tongue down flat as it advanced out beyond her
teeth and into her cheeks. At this point the cop removed her fingers from
the sides of Beth's face to allowed the rubber bladded to further expand.
She still had Beth's chin in her grasp and kept her other hand firmly
behind Beth's head. It was much too early yet to let the rambunctious bimbo
whore go.

Both cops began to smile and chuckle at how funny Beth was beginning to
look. The inflating bladder ballooned out her cheeks and mouth far more
than either one would have ever thought possible.

Beth's bulging mouth area dominated her whole lower face to the point that
she looked like some surreal cartoon character from a damsel in distress
comic strip. And the word "Distress" described Beth's plight perfectly.

"Hey Mary, how far are we suppose to keep pumping this thing? My hand is
getting tired," said the lady cop who stopped pumping for a minute to flex
the cramp out of her hand.

"According to the manual Erica, it's until the offender quiets down
significantly. Lets see what happens when I release my grip." The other
policewoman slowly let go of Beth's head.

Beth just sat there, her eyes squinted and looking straight ahead. She was
too overwhelmed with her bloated aching mouth to be aware of her head being
set free.

"Well, I'll be," said Erica. "I do believe that device does work after
all!"

"It sure looks like it. I wonder if they make one to keeps kids quiet,"
Mary said jokingly. Then both women began laughing again and their laughter
somehow woke Beth from her trance.

Thinking they were laughing at her again, Beth became reanimated. She began
to shake her head from side to side trying to get that damn thing out of
her mouth. Her antics were far weaker than before, with much of her
rekindled rebellion displayed in the swinging movements of the rubber
squeeze ball.

The officers were not going to take the chance of possibly losing control
of their prisoner again. So the one who held Beth's head was able to catch
the squeeze bulb on her third attempt. Now it was her turn to puff up
Beth's severely distended mouth even more. But hard as she tried, neither
cop could see much difference in how Beth looked.

Beth, on the other hand, sure felt the difference! With no more room to
expand outward, the rubber bladder began to travel towards the back of her
throat. When it became all to clear to Beth that the rubber thing might
cause her to choke she immediately stopped all movement and squeezed her
eyes tightly shut.

"Wow, did you see that Erica?"

"Yea, I sure did. Looks like that's it. Damn if this thing doesn't do a
fine job."

Erica started to unscrew the pump connection at the bladder's end. She
tried to tug the hose fitting off, but for some reason it wouldn't
disconnect like the manual said it should. She became a little frustrated
and soon had her other hand over Beth's face for support. She pulled the
fitting with one hand and forced Beth's face back with the other. Beth just
remained quiet because she was in dreadful fear of choking to death.

Finally a crack and snap was heard, followed by an audible "Oh SHIT!" Erica
had broken the connector off, but the bladder still remained full.

"Well, looks like your gonna have to wear that thing for awhile slut. My
partner here has broken the connector and we have no idea how to let the
air out," Mary told Beth.

"No big deal," said a casual Erica. "We'll find someone at the precinct to
get it out. Besides, now we can enjoy the quiet ride back." Again both
officers were laughing as they left Beth alone in the backseat.

They climbed into the front, buckled themselves in and started the car.
They both turned and took one last look at their prisoner. Big smiles
crossed their faces. The half nude slut looked so funny and sad at the same
time. Erica then put the car in gear and drove off.

Beth leaned back into her seat. She turned to her side and rested her head
on the top of the seat with her eyes staring blankly out the window. She
was a total mess. Her arms were bound securely and painfully behind her at
elbows and wrists. One of her breast was squeezed tightly against her low
cut latex bodice with its firm flesh bulging threateningly over the edge of
the material. Her other breast was completely exposed and bouncing around
as the squad car drove down the pothole infested street. Her mouth was
stuffed way beyond normal capacity, making her look like a greedy hamster
storing food in her cheek pouches.

Then she saw Katherine's car exiting a parking lot and turning in the
opposite direction. She tried to get the attention of the two cops, but
gagged so severely all she could do was make a low grade moan that even she
could barely hear. She tried to move her body to get their attention, but
in her severely bound state it was very slow going. She strained to look
out the back window and saw the red brake lights of Katherine's car go on.
She instantly thought that Katherine was at the corner she told her to wait
at and was now looking for her.

Again she tried to get the officers attention, but suddenly she found
herself flying off the backseat and on to the floor. The police car had
come to an abrupt stop and the cops had forgotten to follow procedure and
fasten her in her seat with the seat belt.

She grunted and strained trying desperately to regain her seat and after a
minute or two she finally worked herself to a kneeling position on the
floor. She then stretched herself erect and looked out the back window. She
was just in time to see Katherine's car turning the corner. The patrol car
took off again and Beth's face went straight into the vertical part of the
back seat. This time, when she was finally able to look out the back
window, Katherine's car was no where to be found.

Beth laid her body down on the seat. Her bulging cheek was the only part of
the side of her head that came in contact with the seat. She was looking at
the back of the front seat with empty eyes. For what she saw was only in
her mind's eye now.

Something was wrong, so terribly wrong!

How could things get so mixed up? This was not suppose to happen and try as
she might she could not stop it from happening. She knew that she was
playing a role like an actress in a play, but something had gone wrong. It
was as if she was no longer playing a role on stage, for herself, for
Katherine, for Paul. It was no longer art imitating life, but life
imitating art.

She was no longer playing a role, she had become the role. And everyone saw
her, and responded to her, as if that was truly who she was. The people on
the street, the two women in the store, the police officers, EVERYONE!

Everyone saw her as some moronic bimbo slut. No matter how hard she tried
to convince them otherwise, she was still seen as a laughable piece of sexy
fluff on parade.

She remembered something, a piece of literature. How did it go again, "I
found myself no longer a man dreaming he was a fly, but a fly dreaming he
was once a man." She was no longer Beth Jenson, an intelligent heterosexual
woman dreaming she was a lesbian bimbo slave girl. She WAS a lesbian bimbo
slave girl who dreamed that she was once Beth Jenson.

Something was wrong, so terribly, terribly wrong!

************************************************************************


Part 5 - "Tonya Takes a Hand" Coming Friday

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 5)


                         "Tonya Takes a Hand"


Beth was as lifeless as a rag doll for the rest of the ride to the station
house. Her old world was crashing down around her and from the rubble a new
one was being formed. A new world that she had no desire to live in, to be
part of, or have anything in the least to do with. She was being molded
like a lump of clay and she didn't like the object, the sex object, that
she was becoming.

The patrol car came to a smooth halt and the policewomen got out. They
opened the back door and one of them said, "OK slut, get out of there. It's
time to book your sorry ass."

"Now Mary! That's no way to talk to the bimbo, I mean offender. I can see
all that sensitivity training we went through was wasted on you. After all,
these street whores are people too. With feelings, desires and dreams just
like us. Isn't that right, you pathetic low life cunt!" The two cops broke
up laughing at their sarcastic comedy routine. For yet again, Beth was the
butt of someone else's joke.

"OK O-FEN-DER, get out before we drag you out, now!" Mary lingered on the
word offender, as if it were a new word in her vocabulary. She then poked
Beth roughly in her bare ass with her nightstick to get her moving.

The poke brought Beth out of her stupor. Being bound and gagged as she was,
it took some time for her to scoot to the edge of the backseat and then
ready herself to get out.

"Let's go, let's go! Your wasting time. Our shift is almost over and I'll
be damn if I'm gonna pay my baby sitter overtime for the likes of you."
Mary grabbed Beth's upper arm and pulled her out of the car almost causing
her to fall face down on the hard pavement.

"You hold her steady Mary while I remove the leg irons." Erica began using
her key when suddenly she barked out, "Son of a Bitch!"

"What's wrong Erica," asked Mary still keeping a firm grip on both of
Beth's shoulders.

Any fight that had been in Beth was now completely gone. She just stood
there, a pathetic disheveled mess with one naked breast still in plain view
and her shaved pussy equally on display. Before her arrest, she was a
vision of delight to men and the scorn of women. But now, she was just a
laughing stock, a partially clothed, bound and gagged hooker. A mockery
without a shred of human dignity. Beth felt as though there was no end to
the amount of humiliation she was going to suffer this night.

"My key won't work. Shit!"

"Here, try my key."

Mary let go of Beth and searched for her key while keeping an eye on Beth.
The slut was trouble before and Mary refused to tolerate any more of it,
particularly here at the station. All they needed now was to get into a
brawl with some enraged hooker. Then all the guys would come running just
to watch a cat fight. It was hard enough to get the guys to respect them as
bonafide police officers as it was. They sure didn't need any more hassles
because they weren't capable of handling one simple screwed up prostitute.
But if Mary would have looked into Beth's eyes, she would have seen that
the only thing left in Beth was shame, and a desire to go and hide under a
rock somewhere.

"Damn it! Your key doesn't work either. There must be something wrong with
these cuffs. Let's just take her in as is and book her. Let someone else
worry about getting her free again."

Both cops grabbed an arm and almost dragged Beth into the station house.

It was hard for Beth to keep up, what with her legs hobbled and wearing
those spiked heels and all. Most of the time she was forced to hop and jump
along like a bunny rabbit. Beth knew her freakish appearance would catch
everyone's attention, which only added to her misery. But right now she was
in a world of hurt and all she wanted to do was to get this nightmare over
with.

The three came to a halt in front of the desk sergeant. Beth was wheezing
heavily through her nose. Even though the distance they had traveled wasn't
all that far, her restraints, gag and cotton tail hop made the short trip
seem like a marathon.

When the old desk sergeant looked up from his paper work, his black-rimmed
bifocals down on his nose, all he could say was "Good grief!"

It took him a few minutes to stop staring at the bizarre female before him.
He had never seen a sight as strange as this in all the time he had been on
the force, and he had seen some pretty unusual things. He asked the two
grinning women cops what was going on. Beth was still busy catching her
breath and was only slightly aware of the cop's bias summation of how she
was brought here in her present state.

The desk sergeant shook his head and took his glasses off before talking to
the two cops, and Beth.

"Ok, the cuffs and gag are made by the same company. We received a letter
from them late this afternoon. They are recalling both items because of
some sort of defect. I'll call them and tell them to send someone out to
free you lady. But until then, you'll just have to remain like you are.
Sorry, but that's the way it is. Next time think twice before resisting
arrest."

Beth's eyes closed and her head fell in despair.

"Now, for the book, what's her name?" He took a pen and stayed poise ready
to write down what was told to him.

The two women cops looked at each other and then at the sergeant with blank
faces.

"You did ask her for her name, right OFFICERS?" There was a harsh note of
displeasure in his voice when he said that before continuing.

"You didn't even get her name before doing this to her?"

The women cops were full of excuses and looked at Beth for the answer. Beth
finally felt a little reprieve from her humiliation as the desk sergeant
began giving her two abusers the riot act.

"What's that around her neck," asked the sergeant pointing with his pen.

The cops roughly inspected Beth's collar and tag.

"It's a choker sergeant, no wait, it's a dog collar and it has some kind of
ID tag on it." Erica replied with astonishment in her voice.

At this point some people and more cops were coming closer to hear what was
going on. Beth saw them out of the corner of her eye and she felt another
intensive wave of humiliation begin to fall upon her.

The desk sergeant was beginning to get unnerved with this whole thing and
wanted to have this woman processed and out of here as soon as possible. At
least before the whole thing became a public spectacle. One could hear the
anxiety in his voice when he asked, "What does it say, what does it say?"

Erica looked hard at the embossed writing and giggled before saying in a
clear loud voice for all to hear, "B, property of K. S."

All those in ear shot started to giggle and laugh. Everyone except the desk
sergeant whose face turned a deep shade of red.

Beth felt her face flush too along with her eyes becoming teary. She was
doing all she could to keep from crying knowing that it might cause her to
choke from being so severly gag. But it was so hard. She was tired, and her
arms, shoulders and ankles ached from the metal cuffs. Her legs were
beginning to cramp from her high-heeled shoes. And her jaws and mouth ached
terribly from being stretched so far apart by that damn inflatable gag.
Beth just wanted it to be over with, soon, anyway possible.

The desk sergeant was becoming angry and told everyone to get back to work
and move along. He pondered the letter "B" as to whether to write it down
in the book or not. He looked down at Beth, in more ways than one, and
asked her if the letter stood for something?

Beth nodded her head yes.

The desk sergeant was really confused by the situation. He didn't want to
play twenty questions with this woman, but what was he going to do. He
looked at her again, and wondered how he missed the obvious.

"Officers, please make this woman more presentable. This is a public police
station, not a freak show or bordello . . . I said do it NOW policewomen!"

Mary immediately began lowering Beth's skirt to cover her naked ass and
pussy. Erica was going to choose the skirt too, but her partner beat her to
it leaving her to deal with Beth's exposed breast. She heed and hawed a bit
trying to figure out the best way to get the bountiful thing back into the
tight latex dress. But upon hearing the loud methodic tapping of the
angered desk sergeant's pen on his desk, she started to get very nervous
and frustrated. The tension was soon too much for Erica. So she grabbed as
much of Beth's exposed breast as she could in one hand and shoved it back
into the top of latex dress.

Beth moaned in pain from having her sensitive breast squeezed, mangled and
then stuffed violently into her shiny tight bodice.

Then all of a sudden, Mary spoke up as if a light bulb had gone off in her
head.

"I know what the "B" stands for Sarge. It's really self evident. It stands
for . . . BIMBO!"

Both cops started snickering and giggling uncontrollably. Mary was just
trying to add a little humor to the situation, but the desk sergeant would
have none of it.

"Ok, I had enough of this. "Ms. Bimbo" it is then. We can get things
squared away later when she can talk. Is there anything else on that tag?"

This time Mary looked more closely at it and found more writing on the
other side. She told the desk sergeant it said, "If lost, please call" and
then the phone number.

Again the two cops snickered and laughed at how Beth's collar made her
sound like someone's pet bitch. But ironically, she really was someone's
pet, Katherine's. And that was her phone number on the tag.

The desk sergeant wrote down the number and then told the lady officers, in
a routine manner, "Put her in a cell and do your paper work. I'll call the
number later and see who this K. S. person is and what's really going on
with her. That's it. Now get out of here!"

The two women cops took Beth's by the arms and led her to where the jail
cells were. It was a short distance away, behind some sturdy steel doors.
And the cellblock itself was dark and seemed vacant. It was late now and
the only light that availed itself was coming from a single bulb down at
the end of the hallway.

The cops took Beth to a cell at the end of the hall, unlocked the door,
shoved her in, and then locked it. Again they taunted her with more
laughter and more insults. Then they told her as soon as the cuff guy got
to the station they will make sure they sent him back here to help her.

Of course, Beth knew they would do no such thing. She would be lucky if he
even came at all.

Their final insult was to call her, "B, the lost little puppy". And before
they left, they told their little puppy that if she was good, they might
bring her some doggie treats later. That is, if her gag was removed by
then. The cops then left her, laughing to one another as they walked down
the hall.

Beth leaned against the cell wall and watched them disappear into the
darkness with her sad puppy dog eyes. A short time later, she heard the
sound of a heavy metal door being closed and then locked.

She turned her head and stared out into the hallway, towards the only
light that was there. She was alone now. No more laughing, no more snide
remarks, no more being made fun of or ridiculed. She closed her eyes and
began to wonder what hurt more. The physical pain of her bound and gagged
condition, or the pain she felt deep inside her soul.

She slowly opened her eyes. Again, she looked down the long dark hallway
and thought to herself, 'Oh Katherine, my Katherine, where are you. I need
you so badly now. Please come. Please come and get your B out of here.
Please?"

Beth felt so alone and lost. Her whole life seemed to be out of control
now. In a few short hours her life, her entire existence even, had gone
from bad to worse. She began to wonder if she had finally reached rock
bottom, being alone here in this jail cell.

Then she heard a voice, a female voice.

It came from within her cell, from the darkness where the light could not
reach. It was the combination of the words and the tone in this voice that
made Beth feel like rock bottom might still be some distance below her yet.

She looked deep into the darkness and heard footsteps approaching. The
distinct "click, click, click" sound made from high heels frightened her.
Then as if a dark shroud was pulled away, a black woman stood looking at
her. Again, Beth heard that same seductive voice and those same words that
sent goose bumps flowing over her skin.

"My . . . my . . . my . . . aren't you a very pretty THING."

The way the black woman emphasized the word "thing" made Beth's flesh
crawl. She was bound hand and foot, gagged into numbing silence, and now,
before her, was an eerie dark woman. She felt like the proverbial fly
caught in the web of an evil spider.

Beth took time to really look at this strange black woman. She had a
stately presence about her. Her silky black hair was styled elegantly atop
her head and it still held a faint glimmer, even in this dim light. Her
face was flawless ebony. Her lips full and ruby red. And her eyes seemed
warm, but soul searching.

She wore petite jewelry of dazzling brilliance that only enhanced her
natural beauty. Her figure was slim, but strong. And the way her black
velvet gown flowed around her womanly curves, it complement quite nicely
the seductive powers in her voice.

This was a woman of substance, status and power. Which was in sharp
contrast to her own trailer trash image. Again, Beth felt another wave of
humiliation wash over her tormented soul.

Beth closed her eyes tightly, praying that when she opened them all of this
would have been a bad dream. But when she opened them again, the nightmare
was real. The black woman was standing right in front of her now, the
woman's clear warm eyes looking deep into her own red and teary ones. She
then spoke to Beth again.

"Hello pretty thing. My name is Tonya. And from what I see printed on your
little doggie tag, I know you will understand when I tell you my
professional name is Mistress Tonya. . . Am I not correct, pretty thing B?"

Beth was frozen, part in fear and part in astonishment. This woman, this
Mistress Tonya, had an aura about her that instilled a sense of disturbing
calm in Beth. So enthralled was Beth with the hypnotizing effect of this
cultured woman's voice, and presents, that she began to slowly nod her head
yes without even realizing it.

The black woman made her move. Her arms felt so warm and inviting, like a
lover's embrace, when she wound them around Beth and then nudged her
forward. She held Beth close to her, tenderly, compassionately, as she led
them both over to the cell's cot. The gentle woman of quality seemed to be
half carrying poor Beth while they slowly walked in a considerate attempt
to alleviate part of Beth's heavy burden. And when they came to the cot,
Tonya gently lowered Beth down upon it.

Somehow, someway, Beth was beginning to feel that Tonya really cared about
her, about the hell she was put through and that she was trying to ease her
strained condition the best she could. Beth found herself being drawn to
this woman's kindness, not unlike how she was drawn to Katherine.

Tonya sat besides Beth and without saying a word, began massaging her
shoulders. Oh that felt so good for Beth. Having her arms pulled back so
harshly and for so long was really painful for her. But now, with Tonya's
soothing massage, the pain was fading into bearable discomfort. It reminded
Beth of the times Katherine massage her as well, in the office and at home.
Those caring times seemed so distant now.

Beth was so into the relaxing massage and the stress relieving kindness
that she was unaware when Tonya eased her dress straps off her shoulders
and down her arms. Her tightly compressed and twisted breasts bounced
eagerly to freedom. An action that resulted in Beth being able to breathe
much easier, which helped her relax even more. And when Tonya began to
gently rub her breasts, Beth became a little anxious. But then again, it
felt so good having this woman fondle and caress her breasts the way she
did.

Tonya was so tender, caring and gentle with her, with her breasts. Beth's
body was so desperately in need of some soothing loving attention that her
body could not help respond favorably and quickly to Tonya's sensuous
touch.

But her mind was trying to tell her it was wrong. It was wrong for a
stranger, a woman no less, to be touching her in the way that Tonya was.
To allow this woman to continue to take such intimate liberties with her
was not the correct behavior for an intelligent heterosexual woman like
herself. Even though it did feel so very good. It was still so very wrong,
wasn't it?

Once again her mind was telling her one thing while her body was telling
her another and together they were confusing her to no end. Unbeknownst to
Beth, her confusion was not rooted in her mind-body fight for control. It
was solely in her mind. For a gap still existed between her conscious and
unconscious mind. Her conscious mind was telling her she was a pure man
loving heterosexual woman, while her unconscious mind was trying to
enlighten her that she was far more than that. The gap, the confusion, was
one of acceptance. Acceptance for her deep dark hidden desires that her
cellmate, and her severely stressed out condition, was now bringing out in
crystal clarity.

Beth began to shake her head no and then lean away from the kind-hearted
woman. But Tonya only drew her back to her until Beth was firmly nestled
into the soft confines of her black womanly embrace. Beth was far too
fatigued to put up more than a token resistance at this point.

Tonya's soft warm arms were cradling Beth, lovingly. She brushed her cheek
up against Beth's and whispered in her ear, "Everything will be all right
B. I will not hurt you. Nor will I take advantage of you either. You were
used far beyond your limits, poor sweet thing. So just relax in my warm
caress and you will soon feel much better. I promise you."

It was exactly what Beth needed, not only to hear, but to feel as well.
Tonya soon had them rocking together, and Beth felt loved and cared for,
not unlike how Katherine had made her feel. 'Oh Katherine, my Katherine,
where are you,' Beth asked herself.

Beth looked up into the calm brown eyes of Tonya, her mouth still ballooned
out to the max from the inflatable gag. For a short time, Beth's situation
seemed to have gone from night to day. It was hard for her to believe that
just a mer few minutes ago she was in the middle of a real life nightmare.
And now, she felt a little serenity had touched her soul, thanks to Tonya.

Tonya smiled and traced Beth's tightly stretched lips with her finger. She
lightly stroked the side of her puffed out cheek, and in a soft, caring
voice said, "My goodness sweet B, that is a very nasty gag you have there.
I have used toys like that from time to time in my trade, on my subs. It is
most effective when used properly. But it is also extremely uncomfortable
if worn for any length of time. And some of them, like yours, have a
tendency to break now and then. Would you like me to remove it sweet thing?
I can you know. But only if you tell me that your owner, K. S., didn't put
it there to begin with. I am very respectful of other people's property and
would never do anything that I first needed permission for. So tell me
sweet B, did the big bad police put that big bad gag in that scrumptiously
big bad mouth of yours?"

Beth eagerly nodded her head YES! She even tried to yell out, 'YES, those
damn policewomen put this damnable thing in my mouth,' but nothing short of
a short quiet moan was heard.

"You are sure B, that your owner did not gag you like this?"

Tonya began to smile. She had a tendency to tease and play with her prey,
like an evil cat, whenever the opportunity allowed it.

Again Beth shook her head NO! And tried to add the words 'No, my owner,
Mistress Katherine, did not do this to me.' But again, the most that came
out was a little louder grunt to enhance her pantomime effect. It never
even occurred to Beth how easy it was to accept the thought that she was
now owned like property and that Mistress Katherine held the deed.

"OK sweet thing, I believe you. Now you just remain still while I try and
set your mouth free."

Tonya took a pin from her hair and began to fiddle with the broken
connector. It took several minutes before a hissing sound was heard. And a
few more minutes than necessary too. But Tonya liked looking into Beth's
distressed, yet hopeful, eyes far to much to bring a quick end to such a
pleasant view.

As the air was hissing out, Beth could feel the punishing force of the air
bladder begin to recede. She was anxious to get rid of the gag and began to
wonder why it was taking so long, not to mention why Tonya kept slipping
off the release mechanism time and time again.

Of course Beth did not know that this was Tonya's way of deriving more
pleasure from someone else's distress. The elegant black woman loved it so.

Finally the gag lost enough air for it to be pulled out. But here again,
Tonya left a little more air in the bladder than necessary. So it would
purposely be a bit more difficult to remove it. Again, Beth's distressing
condition was being used for someone else's pleasure.

When the gag was finally removed Beth tried to close her mouth, but she
felt a searing pain in her jaws. Tonya explained to her that this was to be
expected and began to massage the pain away. Beth tried to say thank you to
her hero, but the words came out all garbled. It seemed the pressure of the
gag on her tongue had caused it to go numb. And with her numb tongue and
stiff aching jaws every time Beth tried to say something it sounded like
she had a mouth full of marbles.

Tonya would giggle and laugh every time Beth tried to say something. She
found the helpless state of another, especially a woman, and one as
attractive as Beth, to be very stimulating and sexually arousing.

After several unsuccessful attempts at trying to thank Tonya, Tonya put her
fingers to Beth's lips and told her to hush. She understood what she was
trying to say and there was no reason to exhaust herself anymore than she
already was. Once more Beth felt touched by Tonya's concern. She looked up
into Tonya's warm humane eyes and smiled.

Tonya lowered her head in kind and kissed Beth softly on the lips . . .
once . . . twice . . . and then a third, long, time.

Beth responded in turn, partially out of a sense of gratitude, but mainly
because she found herself wanting to for some reason. Beth was quickly
falling under the seductive spell of the sensuous black woman.

Their kiss broke and Tonya began to caress the side of Beth's face again.
This time, Beth moved into it, to enjoying the caress.

"Oh you are such a pretty sweet thing B. So beautiful, so sensuous and ever
so docile. If another did not own you, then I would take you home with me
and make you mine, forever.  Forever you would be mine and mine alone B. I
would own you in all that you are . . . mind . . . body . . . soul. And you
my dear sweet thing, you would obey me in all that I command . . .
willingly .  . . faithfully . . . and passionately.

I would mark you B. Brand you deep with my mark so all may see and bear
witness that you are mine. I would become the center of your universe B,
the very life force itself. You would do what I want, be what I want, and
become whatever I want. Why? Because in me you would see your salvation,
your reason for being, your virtual destiny B.

You would adore me. You would love me and serve me in all ways possible.
You have the heart of a slave B and only a Mistress like me could ever give
you what your heart desires. And what is that desire? To be owned by one
who loves you more than life itself. A love that is full, rich, passionate,
and unconditional. And you B would love me even more than that. For I would
be your owner B, your one and only Mistress to whom you would pledge
yourself in all that you are and all that you could ever hope to be. You
would be mine B. My property. My slave. My love. Forever and ever."

Tonya's words of passion were weaving around Beth's soul like a spider
cocooning its prey in silk. Beth felt excited and alive like she never had
before. There was something inside of her building, spiraling, wanting to
explode out of her. She wanted to say, 'Yes, take me Mistress Tonya. Make
me your property, your slave. I don't care if you are a woman. I want to be
owned by you, to be made love to by you, and only you. Brand me with your
mark and keep me hidden away in your lair. I will give myself to you,
willingly, in all that I am. Make me your slave. Make me love you beyond
life itself Mistress Tonya. Make me yours, forever!'

Beth was on the verge of saying this when Tonya continued, "But alas B, I
already have such a slave. I do love her and her alone. And she loves me
too. Would you like to meet her B? She is here with us."

Beth was shocked! Shocked that Tonya had rejected her. She was shocked that
another woman could be in this small jail cell without her even knowing it.
And most of all, she was shocked that she was about to give herself,
willingly, to another, to a woman no less, as property, and as a slave.

Beth's weak condition along with her still aching mouth allowed her to only
nod her head yes. 'Maybe,' she thought, 'I could learn something from
Tonya's slave. Some inside information as to what it's like being a real
live slave, unlike my pretend status. Information I might be able to use to
play my part better with my own make believe owner, Mistress Katherine.
And maybe someday, I might make it real, for a short time that is.'

Then there was the possibility of Beth seeing what "might have been for
her" if she really had become Tonya's property and slave. Was Beth about to
gaze into the looking glass, to see what might have been, if not with Tonya
then with possibly Katherine? Beth's extreme stressed out condition was
allowing her to lose herself in the fantasy.

Tonya wrapped her loving warm arms around Beth and hugged her even closer.
Their heads snuggling up to one another with one of Tonya's hands gently
fondling Beth's breasts and nipples. A position and activity that Beth was
finding very pleasant and relaxing now.

"Look over there B, at the dark end of the other cot. She is there. You
will have to excuse my slave B, for she is very shy around new people. But
I have found that her shyness makes me become even more infatuated with my
precious THING."

Beth looked up at Tonya in question at her heavy use of the word "thing"
again.

"Oh don't be surprised B, you pretty sweet THING you. It's just a pet name
of endearment, like poopsy or love muffin. Although I must admit it didn't
start out that way."

Again Beth looked at Tonya with concern, but Tonya just ignored her and
began talking to her "thing."

"OK THING, time to come out and meet a sister slave like you. Her name is
as objective as yours THING. She is called B. Come on girl, don't be shy, B
isn't going to bite you. Her mouth is still too sore for that." Tonya
giggled after that last phrase and cuddled up closer to Beth still lightly
playing with her breasts and nipples.

Beth heard some rustling of cloth and a distinct sound like metal clinking
against itself. Her gaze strained to see into the dark gloom that engulfed
most of the other cot.

A foot, then a leg suddenly appeared and Beth jerked backwards, but Tonya
held her firmly in her grasp. Beth focused on the leg and found it was
really a shoe, no a boot that stretched all the way up to the wearer's
knee. Beth frowned at it. It was a high-heeled boot all right, but one she
had never seen the likes of before. The boot looked extremely brutal and it
must have been the height of cruelty to endure walking in, if one could
walk in it at all.

The shoe part curved the foot outward in an unnatural shaped bow like a
ballerina en pointe. In fact, the wearer had only two points to walk, and
balance, on. The one formed by the pencil thin shape of the high heel
itself, which was frighteningly much longer than her own. And the other
formed by the shoe itself as it tapered the wearer's foot and toes
dramatically, clamping them into a confined and no doubt painful single
point fixed position.

Then the other leg, or boot, made it's way slowly out of the darkness and
into the light. They were a matched set. Both knee length, both in black
shiny leather and both engulfing, shaping and forcing the lower leg into a
totally immobile, unrelenting, ballerina en pointe pose.

Beth did not like what she saw. If this was the beginning, then what on
earth could possibly come next? Her stomach was feeling queasy, and her
nerves were stretched like violin strings. She was only half aware of
Tonya's preoccupation with her breasts when the black woman spoke again.

"That's a good thing. There is nothing to be scared of here. B just wants
to see you and marvel at your unique beauty. Who knows, maybe she could
have been you? Or maybe, some day, she will be?"

Both women stared at each other after that last remark. Beth with a
distressed look of concern and Tonya with a big smile suggesting she was
just teasing, maybe!

Beth returned her gaze to the boots only to be stunned into immovable, eye
bulging, mouth dropping astonishment! Thing had come out of the darkness
and was quietly kneeling in front of them, motionless.

Beth no longer heard or felt anything. Not even while Tonya was pinching
and pulling on her nipples. Not even while Tonya increased her embrace
around Beth to the level of squeezing her like a python. Not even when
Tonya began to muzzle Beth's neck and ear with her full luscious reds lips
and long venomous tongue. So shocked to the core with what she saw, that
Beth's breath was literally taken away.

Was this Thing? Was this Tonya's exclusive love slave? Was this even a
human being anymore, let alone a woman? If Beth thought that her own bimbo
image had mutated into the extreme of the sexually bizarre, then what would
she call the person kneeling before her now? A thing?

A cold long chill ran down Beth's spine as thoughts of how this might have
been her flooded her mind. Then terror struck her fast and deep like a
dagger thrust into her chest when she heard Tonya whispering in her ear.

"This could be you B. This still could be you!"

************************************************************************


Part 6 - "The Making of THING" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 6)


                        "The Making of THING"


"This could be you."

Those words ripped through Beth's soul like finger nails dragging across a
chalkboard. Shivers, goose bumps and a blood curdling fear flooded her very
being. She sat silently on the jail cell cot, still wrapped up in the
spider woman's embrace, still staring at the surreal aberration kneeling
before her, and still unaware of Tonya fondling of her fully exposed
breasts.

"Look at her B."

Tonya's head slid closer to Beth's, her lips less than an inch away from
her ear as she began her enthusiastic tale of "Thing".

"Isn't she magnificent! You will never find the likes of her anywhere on
the face of the earth. Oh, you might find similarities between her and
other cultures. People in far off lands with manners of living and beauty
that are significantly different from our own civilized ones. But you will
never find anything like what you see here kneeling before you right now.
Never!

Thing is totally unique. Literally a one of a kind if you will. And it took
a tremendous amount of time, money and energy to get her to look just the
way I wanted. She is a true labor of love B. And love that originated from
deceit, anger and obsession, from her and from me I might add. But now, I
would find it extremely difficult to live my life without my dear precious
Thing.

She brings so much joy, happiness and love to me B, and I know that Thing
feels the same way about me too. Don't you Thing?"

Beth watched in horror as Thing, the human oddity, moved in confirmation.
An unsettling sound of metal clinking against itself seconded the motion.

"Look at her skin B. Look how black, smooth and flawless it is. I am of
African descent and yet, her color is still several shades darker than
mine. It makes you think she came from some remote dark jungle of deepest
Africa. A bush woman of some very primitive, almost ancient culture, whose
people sees physical beauty in a completely different light than we do.
Would it surprise you to learn that Thing doesn't come from Africa B? Nor
South America, or from any exotic region of the Far East. In fact, Thing is
not even black."

Beth was confused at Tonya words. How could this person not be black, or of
African descent? Her skin color, even her features attested to a lineage
from the Dark Continent.

"No B, Thing is really Anglo Saxon, a Caucasian woman, white just like you.
You see, once upon a time, Thing was the essence of the California Dream
Girl. Her hair was long and golden as the sun. She even had the perfect
peaches and cream complexion. Her eyes were warm and bright, her nose was
cute as a button and she had a smile that made her look like a happy little
pixie.

She wasn't very tall back then, barely over five feet, but she did have a
very nice figure, more on the athletic side than a Rubenesque type. She
could easily catch the eye of any man, or that particular woman with an
extremely unique tastes."

Tonya then gave Beth's breast a little extra squeeze to drive home her last
point.

"So you're probably wondering how such a transformation could possibly
occur?"

Tonya began caressing the side of Beth's delicate face with her own, in a
kind of warm, cuddling motion while her hand was still busy indulging
itself with Beth's supple breasts, and excited nipples.

"It all started about two years ago. One of my clients, and a good friend,
asked me if a woman friend of his named Cynthia Hamilton could do some
research in my field of business. My business was in providing special
services for the rich and powerful. To be frank B, I was a Madame. A woman
who provided for the sexual appetites of society's upper crust. And I, as
well as my staff, were compensated very well for providing such services.

My friend told me that Cynthia was in her 20's and working on her Ph.D.
thesis in the area of prostitution with a bias towards legalizing it. So
any help I could give her would be a benefit for all concerned. My friend
vouched for her credibility and integrity, and I believed him. In
hindsight, I was foolish though, but then again maybe not too foolish after
all. Otherwise, I would not have Thing here today.

So, a positive phone conversation led to a personal interview. We seemed to
get along very well. Cynthia impressed me with her credentials and
polished academic personality. Oh she was quite the con artist back then.
So, I was soon won over in allowing Cynthia to preform her research.

At first, Cynthia wanted information, case histories, all anonymous of
course. But then she wanted to do more personal research. She wanted to
play the role of a prostitute and collect as much personal data from the
experience as possible. However, she didn't want to have oral, anal or
coitus with the clients. She said she had a personal moral and ethical line
that she would not cross.

Well, after hearing that I became even more impressed with the dedication
and devotion of this delicious looking beach bunny. Thus, I readily agreed
to help her. I suggested that she work with what I would call my soft,
kinky clients. These were the people whose sexuality was connected with
fetishes, being dominated, or just plain spanked. Cynthia agreed and things
progressed from there.

I was amazed at how well she took to the role. That should have warmed me
right off that something was wrong. I mean, a well-established bookworm who
never did anything kinky in her entire life takes to wearing tight
revealing latex outfits and then develops a creative dominant persona to
use with her clients virtually overnight! I'm sorry, but no one is that
talented, or gifted, in life. But everything was working out and running
smoothly until one day I received an anonymous phone call.

The message was short and to the point. 'Cynthia is an imposter. She is a
con artist, with plans to blackmail everyone concerned,' and that was it.

I began to wonder if I might have been tricked. Thus, I had no choice but
to find out the truth. There was too much at risk, and too many powerful
people involved who could get very ugly if crossed. So I had Cynthia
checked out, which I should have done in the beginning.

The phone call was correct. Cynthia Hamilton was really Cynthia Hanson with
a record as long as your arm. My PI's found incriminating evidence in her
apartment that proved she had plans to blackmail certain wealthy clients of
mine, not to mention me as well. They also found that my anonymous phone
caller was the friend that had recommended her to me in the first place. It
appeared that she was already blackmailing him to get to me.

I couldn't be too harsh with him. But I did get him to pay me a large sum
of money for damages and told him not to worry about Cynthia anymore. I was
going to take care of her.

The next day I called her and asked if she wanted to come over to my office
for a drink. We could have a chat about how things were going and that I
had another wealthy client, if she was interested. She came over that very
same day.

We talked. I served her a doctored drink and in a few minutes Cynthia was
feeling sleepy. I just sat there in my chair, sipping my cognac, watching
the drug slowly take Cynthia out. I was wondering if she was smart enough
to figure out what was happening to her.

She was, and the look she gave me before passing out was priceless.

I remained sitting there for the longest time simply watching her sleep
thinking to myself what a waste. I finally did have her taken away and
prepared for me.

I remember our first meeting as if it were yesterday. Cynthia was stripped
naked and forced to stand spread eagle in the middle of my special room.
When she woke up she was vile mouthed and angry. She demanded to be let
loose. She called me all sorts of derogatory racist names. She made threats
and told me she knew important people who would destroy me if I did
anything to hurt her. She even tried to blackmail me into believing she
still had some incriminating material hidden away somewhere. She told me in
no uncertain terms that if I didn't let her go, then her silent partner
would release all of the information that she had gathered to the news
media and then my big black ass would be in one serious world of hurt. Oh
she played every card left to her very well indeed, but I trumped them
all.

I told her that I had already found out who her accomplice was, and that he
had told me where all the blackmailing pictures, tapes, and video's were.
My expert PI's were able to find more evidence and were hot on the trail
for any more that she might had stashed away somewhere. Anybody she knew
who could help her, I knew, and more. And if anybody's ass was in a sling,
it was her lily white one.

But I had to hand it to her B, when she was confronted with the bad news
she still kept it together. Even when I told her that I wasn't going to
kill her, but make a living example of her to all who would ever think of
crossing me, she still held her cool. In fact, she laughed at me. She told
me it didn't matter what I did to her, for as long as I kept her alive she
would one day find a way to take her revenge on me and that I would never
break her will, never! And then she spat on me. Would you believe that? In
the hopeless situation that she was in, the little wench still found the
courage to spit on me. Right then and there I knew it was going to be a
battle of wills.

So, to show her who held the superior position, I took a riding crop from
the wall and began to use it with extreme prejudice on her soft white
flesh. Now it was my turn to vent my anger on her.

Until then, I had never experienced such an intense, emotional moment of
both anger and lust in my entire life. A short while later I stopped. I was
almost totally out of breath, drenched in sweat and horny as hell.
Cynthia's body was glowing, and I do mean glowing red! There were a few
raised welts and spots of blood on her stretched carcass, but that was all
superficial.

I just stood in front of her. My legs far apart. My hands on my hips. My
posture erect and commanding. I wanted her to look at me, to fear me, to
ask, no, beg me for my forgiveness and save her miserable life from
whatever evil I had in store for her.

But when I looked into her sad, tear filled eyes, I felt it, strongly! All
in one motion, I walked up to her, pulled her sagging head back by her hair
and kissed her, hard. It seemed like I wanted to engulf her with my mouth.
My lips eagerly massaging hers, my tongue probing and flickering around
inside of hers. I wanted to possess and own her soul, like I already did
her chastised body. It didn't matter to me if she wanted me or not. I
wanted her, all of her! And if she didn't come willingly, then I would take
her by force until one day she wanted me in turn.

That whole situation seemed so out of character for me. Oh, I sometimes
found myself attracted to beautiful women, but I never really acted upon
it, not until then. Something just came over me, no, out of me. You know
how some people, or situations, can fuel a small spark inside of you. A
spark that you keep secretly hidden deep inside. Then something happens
where you just have to act on it, else you will explode! Well, that was one
of those times."

Beth could empathize with what Tonya was saying. A few minutes ago she was
ready to give herself completely over to Tonya as a knee jerk reaction to
what she had felt rising up inside of her. Something that was first sparked
to life with Katherine. But now, with herself in a less stressed out and
exhausted condition, she knew how wrong she was. It was brought out because
of her role-playing with Katherine. That's all it was. Even though she
could still feel those gnawing desires deep within, she knew it had to be
wrong to act on them. So, she continued to try and keep them repressed deep
inside of her.

"Well B, when I finished raping her mouth, I still held her hair in my
grip. We were looking into one another's eyes, not saying a word. Then she
smiled at me and mouthed a word in a hushed whisper, "Never".

I jerked her head back, then let go of my grip. I backed up slowly taking
her whole bound strained image in at one time. My sweat was saturated with
the scent of sex. I could have easily masturbated myself off to an orgasm
right there in front of her. or forced her to do me with her mouth and
tongue until I came, one long hard orgasm after another. But I didn't want
to give her the satisfaction of knowing how easily her distressed condition
could get me off. It was I who controlled her, not the other way around.

So I took a deep breath and exhaled. Then, with all the emotional control I
could muster and looking straight into her eyes, I said as calmly as I
could, "Yes, you will."

I then turned and walked away. I walked into another private room and
fingered myself to the most intense orgasm that I had ever had, and then I
cried. I still wonder to this day why I cried. Was it something from my
unconscious breaking forth, was it Cynthia causing my tears, or was it what
I had planned for her that made me cry--in sorrow or delight?

Right after that I implemented my plan to get my pound of flesh out of
Cynthia, to break her completely! Originally, I planned to turn her into
the biggest bimbo slut that you had ever seen. Train her to lick pussy,
suck dick and take cock up her ass. Then I would display her and rent her
out as an example, for all who would even think of betraying me. After a
few months or so, I would sell her to some foreign interest and never see
her again.

Well, that was the plan and it even started off like that. Oh she resisted
of course. But I was determined to see it through, no matter what the cost.
There really isn't much a petite woman can do when she is kept in bondage
and forced to act like a slut in heat at the end of a well used riding
crop. Cynthia learned alright, reluctantly, but learned she did. And I did
break her, just like I promised I would. But I learned too, about myself.

As the days passed, I found myself spending more and more time with
Cynthia. It seemed like I couldn't get enough of her, at looking at her,
in training her, and even just touching her. I had video system installed
so I could watch her all the time from my office. I even recorded her when
I couldn't be there in person. I had a small room made for her to sleep and
rest in. It had a cot with restraints and more cameras. I was putting too
much time, money and energy into this project and I was blind to this fact.

My business began to show the strain of my obsession with this project,
with Cynthia. Clients were going elsewhere, my staff was losing work and,
what's more, money! I brought in a manager, and he almost ran the business
into the ground. I couldn't think straight anymore. I couldn't run the
business and do what I wanted, needed, to do with Cynthia. So I sold the
business.

As much as I possessed and controlled Cynthia that was how much this
project, and Cynthia, possessed and controlled me. But I didn't care, I was
like a junky hooked on drugs, and I didn't even know it, but I soon found
out.

In the quiet times when I would watch her sleep, forcing myself to stay
awake, I would ask myself why? Why am I doing this? Why am I sacrificing so
much for this one off of the wall obsessive act? Why don't I just get rid
of her and be done with it?

Was it for revenge, because of what she almost did to me? I had to answer
that question with a no. Oh, I had felt anger and even rage towards her in
the beginning, but those feelings seemed to fade away in a short time.

Was I a sadist? Did I really get off in inflicting and watching Cynthia in
physical and emotional pain? This was a hard one for me to answer honestly.
I did find erotic enjoyment in playing the Mistress and causing Cynthia
varying degrees of distress and discomfort, especially in the beginning.
But did I really get off on causing pain to Cynthia? Again, I had to answer
no. My pain and pleasure interest was nowhere near the level of a Marquis
de Sade. No, I was not a true sadist.

Was it a reaction to an assault on my pride, a challenge for me to prove to
her that she was no better than I was? That, in fact, I was better than her
and I needed to drive that point down her throat by converting her into an
object of pure lust. Again, in the beginning, this was part of it. But it
too changed as time went on.

I finally came to the conclusion, maybe too late, that in the beginning the
reason was all of the above. Revenge, a touch of sadism, hurt pride, a
challenge to my ability to make others see me as an equal, or even superior
to them. But all that changed somehow, and then replaced with some other
reason, or more like some other feeling.

It felt like, "NO!" I said to myself, not that! Maybe a form of that, a
twisted perverse form of infatuation at the most. But not the kind that
artists are inspired by and people, the world over, pledge their last
dying breath to. I could not believe it B. I mean, if I loved Cynthia then
why was I so obsessed with dominating and changing her so?

Then it hit me. Like the proverbial ton of bricks it hit me. It wasn't
Cynthia, the person that I loved. It was the submissive, sexy, feminine
object that Cynthia was becoming that I was focusing my adulation on. I was
coming to grips with my own incredible overpowering need for a
dominant/submissive lesbian relationship. THAT was the reason for my
obsession and infatuation with Cynthia!

It seemed like throughout my entire life I had been repressing my
lesbianism and my desire to sexually dominate women. But now, with
Cynthia's betrayal, I had both the reason and the excuse that allowed me to
set my dark side free, in all its salacious, eccentric and erotic glory. I
was having an epiphany B. Like some kind of Freudian revelation. I was
finally allowing myself to embrace my own latent, sexual, lesbian desires.

It all fell into place after that. I knew the path that I had to take. I
was going to turn Cynthia into a symbolic representation of my innermost
desires. I was the inspired artist, and Cynthia was the lump of clay. At
that very moment Cynthia ceased to exist. She was only raw material for me
to mold. I felt like Michelangelo when he looked at the massive piece of
marble, before it became his 'David'. I looked at Cynthia the same way and
I saw "Thing". She was to become an icon of my dominant/submissive, lesbian
love. I felt reborn, as if the haze had dropped from my eyes and I could
see everything clearly now for the first time in my life.

In my mind's eye I could see "Thing". Now all I had to do was to turn my
fantasy into reality.

I did massive amounts of research to see what was possible and what wasn't.
I found, that with the right amount of money, virtually anything was
possible. I was ready to spend whatever it took to get what I wanted. If I
was obsessed before, I was ten times beyond that now. I felt like I was on
a quest for the Holy Grail, and I would not rest until I found it and drank
heavily from its cup, or it killed me in the process."

Beth was shocked to the core! Was she in the embrace of a mad woman? She
could understand some of what Tonya was saying. It even enlighten her a bit
about her own hidden desires, about her liking women and the good feelings
she sometimes had when she was with Katherine, as her slave. But how could
Tonya do this to another woman, to any human being for that matter. Her
story was like some bizarre catharsis. In order for her to accept her own
sexual identity, she had to create THING!

Tonya had snapped! She had gone too far with her zeal for self-realization
and her need for revenge on Cynthia. And what of poor Cynthia? Hard as Beth
tried she could not see any remnants of a once upon a time blonde beach
bunny. All she could see was an exotic object created from a sick savage
mind.

Beth began to tremble as she thought again on how this Thing before her
could have been her. But what Beth did not realize was that Thing was
indeed her, only in a much less evolved form.

Tonya looked at Beth, and with either uncanny insight or with an eerie side
effect of her madness, saw how Beth was disassociating herself from Thing.
But Tonya was going to set her straight, even if Beth didn't want to hear
it.

"I can see in your eyes B you think me mad, don't you?"

Beth shook her head NO in fear. How could she defend herself if this
lunatic decided to hurt her or worse! Best to play it safe until help
comes. 'Oh Katherine, my Katherine, please hurry and save your B from the
clutches of this stark raving mad woman,' she said in her mind.

"Fair enough, look at Thing now and see her through my eyes before you sit
in judgement of me."

Tonya took Beth's chin in her hand and turned her head towards Thing. She
was intent in setting Beth straight about her thinking she was mad.

"Thing is the personification of what it means to be a woman, in what we
subjectively call a civilized society. She is also a woman that I love with
all the passion a human being can have for another. It is important that
you thoroughly understand that last part B. Passion without love is nothing
more than eye candy without a soul. And do not think for a minute that what
is kneeling before you, or sitting next to you, is without one."

Beth felt her curiosity begin to stir.

"So, where do we begin? Lets start with her feet shall we. No article of
clothing makes a woman feel sexier than her high-heeled shoes. When we want
to be taken seriously, but still hold on to our femininity, we will wear
shoes with a low heel. The more we want to feel sexy, feminine, and
desirable, the higher the heel will go. Why? Because of what the raised
heel does for us. It changes our posture by having us push out our chest
and derriere for balance. They force us to walk slower and with smaller
steps, instilling in us, as well as being seen by others, a small degree of
helplessness. An archaic attribute no doubt, but never-the-less a
characteristic of being a desirable woman even in today's world.

High heels cause us to walk differently too, to roll and swing our hips to
make us look and feel sexy. Even the sound they make when we walk on a hard
surface is not without it's own unique sexual overtones. I am wearing a
three inch heel, but I am dressed for an elegant night out. I feel, and I
am seen, as seductive and desirable. Wouldn't you agree B?"

Beth slowly nodded her head yes, not just out of fear, but because there
appeared to be method to Tonya's madness.

"Now look at your shoes B. Your shiny pink six inch heels. Put them
together with your matching short, tight latex dress and I bet they make
you feel like a slut. A true, mindless, sex starved whore ready to fuck
anything at a drop of a hat. And what's more, I bet that is how others
perceive you too. Don't they B?"

Beth lowered her eyes in shame and again, reluctantly, nodded her head yes.

"Now look at Thing. I carried that concept to the max because I wanted
symbolism. It took her months to be able wear those boots. Every few weeks
I increased the height of the heels until she was able to walk on her toes.
Oh it was hard for her, but I made her do it, giving her nothing but praise
and positive reinforcement all the way. And with time, she accepted them
willingly. She looks and feels totally helpless and desirable now, like the
ultimate submissive sexy woman that she is. She can only take the smallest
of steps. Her hips and derriere roll and bounce like they had a life of
their own. Her butt and chest are pushed out so far that her spine is
shaped like a lazy sensuous 'S'. Once a man gets over her wild exotic
appearance, I dare say he would wet himself pondering what it would be like
to fuck a woman like this.

Look at her figure B. One major characteristic of all woman is the shape of
her body. The flowing curves of an hourglass figure have been in vogue for
centuries. A woman with a small waist has always been a major attraction,
to both men and women. The best way to get a small waist is with a corset.
Not only does a corset make a woman look curvy and desirable, it makes her
feel the same way just like her shoes. An old fashion corset, worn
correctly, will make her feel warm and secure like being in her lover's
timeless embrace. It gives a woman good posture, erect carriage and a boost
to her feminine self-esteem, not to mention another boost to the size of
her breasts and hips.

By artificially enhancing her figure like this, she once again increases
her desirability and appearance as a sexy woman. I know you are wearing a
corset B. Doesn't it make you feel more desirable as it enhances and
displays your female assets for all to see and marvel at?"

Again Beth had to agree with Tonya. She remembered all the drooling men and
the nasty stares from women she received whenever she went out in public.
And truth be told, it did make her feel desirable and sexy.

"In Thing's case I just took it to a higher level of symbolism. Instead of
an hourglass figure, I gave her a wasp waist.

Long periods of wearing tighter and tighter corsets brought her from a
thick 27 inch athletic waist to one of a mere 13 inches. Her overall shape
could be considered nothing less than bomb shell sexy.

Now, what do you think is the single most identifiable characteristic that
totally defines a woman as female, sexy, and desirable?"

Beth knew the answer to that. It was what Tonya had been doing to her all
this time while sitting next to her. Beth just looked down and watched
Tonya continue to massage her puffed up breasts.

Tonya giggled at the way Beth had answered her question. With less stress
and with more of a friendly tone in her voice, Tonya continued with her
lecture.

"That's right B, BREASTS! I know very few women who don't worry about their
breasts. They are too big, too small, the wrong shape, they sag too much,
their nipples are too small, or not hard enough, and so on and so on. Even
men fantasize over them virtually 24 hours a day. You can see there
preponderance everywhere, in magazines, on TV and in the movies. I like
your breasts B as you no doubt can tell, but I always had a thing for women
with really big breasts."

Beth began to blush now. She knew her breast were slightly above average
being a C cup. A fact she learned to accept and enjoyed taking advantage of
when she wanted to feel sexy and desirable to men. But with the tight
corset they seemed to have grown to almost a D cup size now. A size that
made her feel cheap like a real whore instead of the fantasy one that she
was portraying.

"Big breasts have always been desirable for women. There is a billion
dollar industry built around making less endowed women into voluptuous
breast bouncing sexpots. Personally, I find big breasted women arousing,
especially when I can play with them. So it was natural for me to give
Thing big breasts. Cynthia only had an average size bust, a "B" cup, which
was totally unacceptable for me. I wanted them BIGGER. The corset and shoes
only increased them to a C, still unacceptable. I could have easily given
her implants, but I wanted the real thing for my THING.

I knew this doctor who had created a drug to make women's breasts bigger.
It caused the basic cellular structure of the breast to increase the number
of cells in it, thus making the increase in size more likely to be
permanent. He even created a salve that would increase the size of the
nipple and the areola around them. Of course, since it was only available
on the black market I had to spend a lot of money for it, but it only
needed to be used once because the results WERE permanent. I was possessed
beyond reason in making Thing a reality B.

In the course of that treatment, I do believe Cynthia enjoyed seeing her
breasts increasing from a "B" to a size "C". But when they continued
growing to a size D she became concerned. When I increased them to a DD she
began pleading for me to stop. She thought they were too big and made her
look like a sexual freak, especially being so large on her petite body. I
had to explain to her that she was becoming a vision of beauty, a work of
art, and other positive reinforcing statements like that. However, I didn't
tell her the real reason that I wanted them bigger, or that what she wanted
was of no concern to me. I stopped the treatment when they grew to a size
"E".

While her breasts were growing, I was using the nipple enlargement cream on
them as well. I am pleased to say, as you can plainly see, her nipples
increased to an inch long and as thick as your little finger.

I soon found myself playing more and more with her breasts. And as they
increased in size so did their sensitivity. Not only was Thing able to
attain an orgasm from just having her breasts stimulated, but she was also
able to experienced her first multiple-orgasm at that. I dare say she has
since changed her mind about the size of them now.

But I was still not satisfied. Oh they were big enough, especially on
Thing's small frame. In fact, they looked deliciously gigantic! But
something was missing. Her breasts needed something to add to their
symbolic meaning to make them really stand out like the proud object of
female sexuality that they were. These gems that were the central focus of
both men and woman should be placed on pedestals and decorated in splendor.
That's when I hit on several ideas. One of which I saw on television of all
places.

It was a documentary on the giraffe women of Burma. In their culture, to
make themselves more attractive to their men, they would stretch their
necks. A long feminine neck was considered very desirable in their society.
As in our own, but not by artificial means and not to such an extreme.

What they did was to put metal rings from the base of their necks, or tops
of their shoulders, to just under their chins. Every so often, they would
add a ring to stretch their necks even longer. So I used this same idea on
Thing's breasts.

I had a series of gold rings placed around both of them. I started from the
base, right up against her chest, and built them out. The first one was the
largest and then I gradually tapered them down in size as I worked outward.
After a little while, I then increased their size again until they were
almost the same diameter as the one at the base.

They looked absolutely marvelous! Like black bowling balls resting on a
concave pedestal of gold. The color contrast looked so good that I added
another color, red, to her nipples and areolas. I had them tattooed, as
well as her mouth and pussy lips, but I'll talk about those later. I had
her nipples pierced and a gold ring inserted through each of them to
complete the look. And they do look superb! They became permanent erotic
symbols of femininity, accented in red and gold, a truly awesome sight to
behold.

Oh it took time, months in fact, to stretch the skin to the point where
they are today. From her chest to the tips of her ringed nipples it
measures a full twelve inches. I even had to increase the size of the hole
in her nipples to get the proper thickness of nipple ring that I wanted
there.

Oh yes, it all took time. And when they were done, I was so taken with the
results that I adopted the same method to stretch Thing's neck, like the
giraffe women of Burma. Her neck is a full three inches longer now than
when I began.

Is it a bit surreal, possibly over the top? Yes, but that was the whole
idea, and I do believe that it was well worth it. Again, Cynthia was not
too keen on the whole idea, but by now she was well on her way to becoming
my own personal wet dream. So I paid little attention to her moans and
whimpers of distress. I just kept giving her positive reinforcements on how
beautiful she was becoming with each passing day. It's amazing what a
little positive praise can do to control a person's psyche."

Beth was beginning to see some similarities between Tonya and Katherine.
Many a time Katherine would give her positive reinforcement when she wore
something tartish, did some act of air headedness successfully, or
continued to stay in her slave role during the hard times. Could this be
why her role as a bimbo was becoming second nature to her now? Could this
be the reason she was developing stronger and stronger feelings, lesbian
feelings, toward Katherine? And could this be why she seemed to be more and
more comfortable with her subservient slave role to Katherine? She took a
hard look at Thing and began to see far more similarities than differences
between them.

"Those are the most dramatic symbolic changes I did to Cynthia to make her
into a Thing of beauty. The other changes I carried out were to make her
more into MY Thing of beauty. As I told you before, Thing is a reflection
of my own lesbian dominant/submissive interest. So all these other outward
changes were to appease my own unique artistic flair and carnal desires."

All Beth could do upon hearing this was close her eyes and shake her head
in quiet disbelief. There were times when Tonya was making so much sense
that it scared her. It scared her how persuasive and seductive Tonya made
Cynthia's transformation sound. It scared her how Tonya's story made her
feel more accepting of her role as a bimbo and slave to Katherine's
Mistress. It scared her that this whole escapade made her feel like she was
Alice falling through the looking glass and into a land too bizarre to make
the slightest sense of. It seemed that all she could do was just go with
the flow and hope that she would find her way out of this wonderland
nightmare soon. Again, Tonya's voice brought Beth back to reality, or was
this all still fantasy and Tonya was really the Queen of Hearts?

"I played around with her facial features and body piercing, from both a
dominant/submissive perspective, as well as what made me hot and excited.
I changed the color of her skin to black because even though I loved women,
all women, I have a personal preference for black women. Thus, another
expensive illegal drug changed the pigment of her skin. It is supposed to
last a year before needing a booster dose.

That is also why I changed her lips and nose. The more exotic I made her,
the more sexually excited I became. And making the illusion that Thing had
an African ancestry was just the right ticket. I found some small, semi-
rigid cone shaped tubes that I could insert into her nostrils and expand
them at will. Over a period of time, I was able to change her nose from a
small turned up little pixie type, to a broad, flared likeness of a woman
born in the heart of Africa.

With regards to her lips, repeated collegian treatments and tattooing them
a nice shade of red, like her aureolas, made them big, full and luscious.
They seem to dominate her whole pretty face now. And I have found that I
love the feel of a set of full pouting lips on my own skin, and lips, as
well as having them suck on my hard sensitive nipples and wet throbbing
pussy. Something that Thing has learned to do that quite well I am proud to
say.

I also carried on with the piercing in her septum, both sides of her
nostrils and several times in each ear. Somehow, I do believe Thing looks
far more erotic with all those gold rings hanging from her. The sharp
contrast of the gold color with her black skin is very artistically
pleasing to me. I particularly like the effect obtained when I placed large
heavy rings in each of her ear piercings. For not only did they stretch her
ear lobes making them look longer, more primitive and sexy, but every time
Thing moves I hear metal clinking, like wind chimes. I enjoy listening to
them as much as listening to the sound of her ballet boots clicking away on
a hard floor. Whenever I hear those sounds a wave of warm tingling
eroticism seems to flow through me.

Her hair presented me with a problem though. I liked Cynthia's golden
blonde hair quite a lot, but I also wanted something completely void of
hair as well. The look of Thing as a primitive, but yet elegant bush woman,
would easily send erotic chills through me, and still does. So I
compromised. I removed all Thing's hair except for a three inch circle at
the back of the crown of her head. I gathered that part up into a ponytail
and wrapped a wide black leather strap, encrusted with gold studs, around
the base of this scalp lock. I really liked the image that it created for
Thing. It looks like a fountain of golden water is flowing out from her
head and cascading down behind her.

It also adds a nice golden background that really sets off her black head
and big red lips. The gold color is carried forward and around her face,
neck and breasts with all the gold rings there. Everything just seemed to
fall into place.

Her hands and arms are not used very much anymore. I had gold wristbands
and arms bands, just above her elbow, permanently attached around them.
Sometimes I connect them together behind her back, not unlike how you are
held now B. But most of the time I have her elbows connected tightly
together behind her back, while her wrist cuffs are connected to the gold
studded leather belt around her waist, right over her waist cinch. The
elbow cinch forces her to thrust out her chest even more so and that in
turn adds a little extra to the dramatic display of her breasts.

Having her hands restricted to her waist not only draws one's attention to
her helplessness, but also shows off her long red fingernails that match
the color of her lips, nipples, and pussy. And speaking of her pussy.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do there. I mean, I had no real image in
mind to work from. It was very perplexing for me. Everything so far had
worked out exceptionally well, but Thing's pussy was still a stumbling
block. I finally decided to be selfish. My first move here was to reflect
what I personally liked in a woman's pussy. That meant no hair at all! So,
I had all of Thing's hair permanently removed down there.

Next, Thing had the type of pussy with very fleshy inner lips. Now I grant
you, such lips do lend themselves to all sorts of D/s interests, like
suspending various heavy items from them, but that is not my style. Having
Thing with sagging pussy lips is just too weird for me to handle."

Beth couldn't believe what she just heard. What Tonya had done to poor
Cynthia most people would call an abomination to Cynthia's humanity,
definitely mentally perverse, and boarding on, if not actually, criminal.
But the only behavior that Tonya, herself, thought as being "abnormal"
was the possibility of suspending something from Cynthia's sagging fleshy
labia lips.

Beth heard an old saying faintly echoing in her mind, "There is only a
razor's edge that separates genius from insanity." Then she began to wonder
how many times Tonya had fallen on the wrong side of that fine edge.

Once more Beth's attention was refocused on Tonya's pleasant voice as she
continued with her bizarre tour of her sub-human creation called 'Thing'.

"So I had them fixed. The excess was removed and the rest smoothed out. Not
only did Thing's pussy look immensely better and more youthful, but now I
thoroughly enjoyed myself as I played with it. Many times I had Thing
experience repeated orgasms from being stimulated on her new remolded
pussy.

However, a refurbish pussy was just not enough me. Her pussy looked too
barren and plain. It needed something more done to it, to enhance its
symbolic significance. A woman's pussy is her sexual altar stone and it
needed to be artistically displayed in all its regal glory. That's when I
decided to continue my red and gold motif down there as well. I had her
pussy lips tattooed red, from the top of her clit hood all the way down to
a little past where the lips join. It looked great! Just like a wedge of
fully ripen red melon on a black background. Of course I added several gold
rings along each lip to complete the effect. I even added one very special
one, if you know what I mean B."

Beth did know what she meant, and it wasn't from Tonya's repeated plucking
of her right nipple to make the inference of the love button either. She
could easily see for herself where that one extra special gold ring went as
it hung sedately from Thing's clit hood.

"I was finally done with my creation, my THING! The first time I saw her
standing before me, looking the way she does now, I actually became so
aroused, that I had an orgasm right there on the spot. No masturbation, no
mind fucking fantasy, no self-touching anywhere. I simply felt the wave
coming, closed my eyes and let it happen. That was a moment I will never
forget in my entire life. I almost felt like I had created or given birth
to a new life form. The entire experience was so strikingly awesome!"

Beth quietly watched as Tonya closed her eyes and tried to relive that very
same moment. She soon began to feel Tonya's body shake and then her right
breast being squeezed in Tonya's fervent grasp. It didn't last long though,
as her right breast was once more free of Tonya's hand, temporarily.

Beth looked upon Tonya and Thing with very different eyes now. Her eyes
were no longer full of fear and panic like before. There was a marked
sadness in them, for both women.

"Ohhhh my, that felt so good," Tonya exclaimed in a voice that literally
strained with eroticism.

"Now, were was I? Oh yes, there was only one final change I needed to make,
and this one was more radical than any of the others. The others were all
passive in nature. They were to present Thing in a symbolic light of
exotic, distressed, female sexuality. A sight that I find most visually
appealing and desirable, just like you B."

Beth felt the cold chill of fear suddenly brush across her soul.

"This other change that I had in mind, was to restructure Thing into
"actively" being able to make me feel good. But this one you cannot see B,
not unless I tell Thing to show it to you. Would you like Thing to show it
to you B?"

Beth was unsure about this, especially the way Tonya was looking at her.
She was smiling in a way that reflected a side of her erotic evil that Beth
was frightened to look at.

But Tonya worked her seductive ways on Beth. Snuggling and cuddling close
to her, rubbing her hands all over Beth's naked chest, breasts and hard
nipples, and finally adding a series of soft little kisses around her ear
and neck, whispering words of positive reinforcement in her ear.

"You know you want to B. You can't help yourself. I know you're a bit
frightened, but I am here to help you through it. I like you B. Even Thing
likes you. We both want to show it to you B. I want you to see what makes
Thing very precious to me, more precious than life itself. I know you want
to look B. I feel it in you. It gnaws at you. You can't help yourself. You
are going to look B, aren't you?"

The spider woman's powers of seduction were too much for Beth's weakened
state. She began nodding her head yes as sweet moans of contentment flowed
from her open pouting mouth. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this
was how Cynthia was seduced into becoming Thing.

"OK B, look upon Thing now. Thing, show your sister B what makes you all so
beautiful, sexy, and VERY precious to me."

Beth watched Thing with nervous anticipation. All this time Thing had
remained motionless and in position. Her knees were wide apart to display
her red pussy lips and all those golden rings hanging from them. Her
constricted torso slightly bent forward at her tiny golden wrapped waist
with her red painted fingernails resting sedately on her thighs while her
wrists were held immobile to her waist belt. Her breasts like big black
ostrich eggs atop golden pedestals adorned with impressive red nipples and
large golden rings hanging down from them like Christmas tree ornaments.
Her head stretched high by a pillar of gold, a vision of exotic elegant
African ancestry adorned with more gold rings and full succulent lips of
red. And her eyes, always looking down, were wide open and calm.

This "thing" of art, of symbolism and exotic erotic beauty, soon began to
move. Her tilted torso moved slowly back until she was fully erect, on her
knees and facing Beth. Even though her eyes continued to look down.

Beth stared intently as Thing's thick red lips slowly parted and her tongue
began to slither out like a snake exiting its dark abode. Her tongue crept
out more, and more, and . . . Oh my GOD!

Beth eyes and mouth opened wide in shock. Thing's tongue was long, very
long! Then Thing opened her mouth and pulled back her plump red lips to
reveal another attribute of Tonya's passion driven insanity. Beth jerked
herself back from what she saw. But like driving past a terrible car
accident, she could not turn away. She just continued to stare in abject
horror at Thing's toothless mouth.

Tonya's voice was very controlled and calm now. It was as if what she had
done to Thing, to the human being formerly known as Cynthia, was nothing
more than to re-style her hair. It was a pleasant contained calmness that
was the exact opposite of what Beth was feeling.

"You are looking at Thing, but I don't think you truly understand what you
see B. I don't know if you are aware of this fact, but a woman's tongue,
and mouth, are very important in making love to another woman. The level of
sexual arousal and orgasmic satisfaction from an experienced set like Thing
has can be limitless and sublime.

I had made Thing into the ultimate visual expression of female sexuality.
The perfect sex object from my perspective. But again, I wanted more.

I wanted to complement her visual image with functionality. It was not
enough for her to look the part, she had to act and be the part too."

Beth felt her heart jump right out of her chest. Those words! Katherine had
spoken those very same words to her about her role as a bimbo. What was
going on here? A coincidence, or did Tonya know Katherine? Is Tonya the
friend Katherine said she went to for help? Did Katherine know how much of
a lunatic Tonya was? Was Katherine becoming another Tonya? Or worse, was
she on her way to becoming another Thing?

Beth stopped looking at Thing and directed her surprised expression up
to Tonya.

Tonya met Beth's startled look with her own Cheshire cat smile. She then
placed her hand on Beth's chin and gently closed her gapping mouth while
saying in a sweet voice that reeked of conspiracy.

"You do understand how important it is for some situations, and for some
people, to be perceived as totally real by all concerned, don't you B?
Because that is the only way fantasy can be transformed into reality."

Tonya held Beth's chin for a few seconds letting those words sink deep into
Beth's confused, alarmed mind.

Beth instantly thought of Paul when she said that.

Then Tonya turned Beth's head gently so that she was again looking at the
toothless mouth and snaked tongue of Thing, before she continued with her
dialogue.

"I'm glad you understand that B, because that is how I wanted it to be for
Thing and me. This is not a fantasy. A short period of playtime with limits
and safe words, or a temporary split from the real world into dreamland.
This is how I live. How Thing and I live, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. So
I had a doctor modify Thing's mouth, and in the process, Thing went from
being an incredible piece of eye candy to full functioning reality.

He was a very talented surgeon. He was able to increase the length of
Thing's tongue to twice its original length while still maintaining its
sensitivity and dexterity.

You see that little gold ball near the tip of Things tongue B? That is
another piercing called a barbell. I put it there for one reason. To
stimulate my "G" spot. And I have to tell you B, Thing has learned to make
me cry with unbelievable pleasure just by how she uses it on my hidden love
button.

Now the reason I had Thing's teeth removed, was again for sensuous
stimulation, both hers and mine. The feeling I get from having my ears,
nipples and pussy lips stimulated by Things chewing gummy mouth is out of
this world! And Thing likes to have her gums given some loving attention
too I might add. Many a night Thing has spent in my arms, like you B, with
my fingers maneuvering in and out of her mouth, rubbing and massaging her
gums to her splendid moans of contentment.

Of course, with Thing's mouth modifications it makes speech practically
impossible for her. Everything comes out all garbled, just like you B when
I took your gag out. But since most of our communication is from me to her
Thing really doesn't need to talk any more. Kind of like you and me B. Here
we are, having a good old time, talking about Thing, communicating with one
another, and you haven't said a single word, just like Thing here. I do
believe you and Thing have more in common than you really think B. Don't
you, you sweet adorable thing you."

Then Tonya pulled Beth as tight as she could into her embrace, snuggling
her head and cheek up against Beth's and rocking them both from side to
side.

Beth understood what Tonya meant by "sweet thing". In a single phrase she
had put Thing and herself into the same category. Both sensuous objects in
a wonderland of distorted reality and perverted sexuality. Again, Beth
closed her eyes in hopes it was all a bad dream. But when she opened them,
Thing was still there, as real as ever.

Beth continued to look at Thing, but she was trying to see Cynthia. Her
mind was trying to reach out to her, to see if she was still there after
all.

'Cynthia? Cynthia? Are you in there Cynthia? Poor Cynthia, look what this
mad woman has done to you. How can you go on? Poor, poor Cynthia.'

'Poor, poor Beth' came a distant voice echoing back in Beth's confused
mind.

Beth followed every incredible word of Tonya's story as to how she had
captured and turned Cynthia into her Thing. But Beth still wondered if
Tonya had succeeded in transforming Cynthia's soul along with her body. Was
there not a single shred of Cynthia's spirit left, locked somewhere deep
inside of that "thing"? Where had Cynthia gone? A tear flowed down Beth's
cheek. She was crying for Cynthia. A single tear that might have included
herself in it too.

Beth felt Tonya gently brush the tears from her cheek. Then she heard
Tonya's compassionate voice that made Beth feel like she was reading her
mind.

"Don't feel like that B. I thought I had showed you, proven to you with my
story, that Cynthia is no longer there. You are looking at her as if
Cynthia is still there, inside of Thing. She is not there B. Cynthia is
gone forever, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. But out of those same ashes,
like the great Phoenix, rose THING!

Look at her as Thing B. She is an unique being dripping in bizarre
sexuality. Her entire existence is based on the erotic. She no longer has
the worries of the everyday person. I take care of all of that. Thing
simply takes care of all of my sexual needs and desires, and at times, I
hers.

Thing is a work of artistic, passionate beauty B. An icon to all who would
see the "who" that she really is and the "what" that she represents. Do not
feel sorry for Thing B. Thing certainly does not. She fully accepts with
profound love and joy her new identity in life, without regrets, and so do
I. Thing and I are not just two eccentric individuals living on the fringe
of existence. We are the same person. We are one. One in being, one in
heart, one in mind, and one in soul. Separate, we are empty and longing.
Together we are everything. We are powerful, passionate, and fulfilled.

We are in love with, and loved by, one another. Until you are able to find
that rare combination of eternal bliss in life that Thing and I have, do
not weep for Thing, or me, or us. Weep for yourself B. Weep for yourself."

Beth put her head to Tonya's chest and cried. Why was she crying? Who was
she crying for? And why did she miss Katherine so much now?

Tonya wiped away Beth's tears and rocked her in her arms as Beth cried like
a heart broken child. She even began to hum a tune she was fond of, to help
Beth feel better. The same tune she hummed for Thing when times became
hard.

Once in a while, Beth would look at Thing from the corner of her eye and
wonder about what Tonya said. Was this the work of a woman gone mad, or of
a woman who knew what she wanted and went after it with reckless abandon,
hoping it would all work out for the best in the end. It was all so
confusing. Did the end justify the means? For Tonya and Thing it seemed to.
Would it be the same for her and Katherine with Paul?

Beth began to pull herself together while Tonya told Thing to get into
position. Beth watched Thing pull her tongue in as though it was a length
of spaghetti, her big lips smacking together when her tongue was all the
way in. Then she slowly tilted her torso forward and remained perfectly
still, just like before. Thing's behavior caused Beth to smile. The horror
that Beth felt when she first saw Thing seem to dissolve away into
nothingness, just like her sadness, and just like Cynthia appeared to do, a
long time ago.

Tonya nudged Beth away from her body and began cleaning up her wet face and
smeared makeup. She began talking to Beth in a warm, supportive voice. She
told her how much she liked her, how beautiful she looked, even with a
dirty face, and how lucky her owner was to have such a loving, willing and
gentle slave girl like her. At that point Beth tried to talk again saying,
"Whank Wou Mitwiss Wonya". And the two women both laughed and giggled like
schoolgirls. But Thing remained quiet, in position, and motionless.

A loud heavy metal sound echoed down the hall. Both women became quiet and
looked out through the bars where the sound came from.

"Looks like we might be having company B. Maybe we should get you a bit
more presentable, or would you rather go topless like you are? I know I
wouldn't mind it."

Tonya gave Beth a teasing smile while she resumed playing with Beth's
breasts causing her to wince as Tonya was becoming a little too zealous
with them.

Beth was beginning to panic. She heard the main door open and close. Then
footsteps were heard approaching them. She looked at Tonya with pleading
puppy dog eyes to help her and even tried to ask her to hurry, but her
mouth and tongue were not quite up to speech yet.

"OK B, lets get you standing and I'll put poor little Humpty Dumpty back
together again."

Tonya stood up and began adjusting her own long velvet gown about her
voluptuous figure.

Beth tried to get up from the cot, but she ended up falling backwards. With
her arms and legs manacled as they were, she felt like a turtle on its back
trying to get up. Tonya was giggling at Beth's antics. She so loved
watching sexy women in distress.

Finally, when Beth was back into the sitting position, and with those
footsteps much closer now, Tonya said, "Here B, let me help you before you
fall completely off that cot."

Tonya reached down to help Beth, but instead of lifting her by her
shoulders or arms, Tonya grabbed both of Beth's nipples and began pulling
her up by them.

The pain Beth felt in her nipples and breasts was overwhelming. She had a
immediate surprised and painful expression fixed on her face, which she
flashed directed at Tonya and her pseudo helpful intervention.

It didn't take Beth long to get herself up and at attention though. But
Tonya did not release her right away. She continued to strain Beth's
nipples and breasts upward as she guided her around the jail cell on tippy
toe, using the excuse of better light over here than over there.

All Beth could do was scrunch up her face in pain and follow Tonya wherever
she pulled her. The expression of glee on Tonya's face as she danced Beth
around like a puppet on a string made Beth again wonder if she wasn't under
the control of a mad woman.

Tonya let her go when Beth's back was facing the jail cell door. The foot-
steps were no longer heard, which frightened Beth. Then Beth jumped in
fright when she heard a male voice say, "Is there a Ms. Bimbo in here? She
has someone waiting to see her."

Beth couldn't answer "Yes!" fast enough. She didn't want to miss her
possibly one chance to get out of the clutches of the spider woman. She
then added, "Won oment pease."

The jailer made a questioning face and asked, "What did you say?"

Beth looked pleading into the eyes of Tonya's grinning face. She even
whispered a "please help me Mistress Tonya" that even began to sound
correct.

Tonya took Beth face in her hands, brought her lips to hers and kissed her.

Beth responded in kind, part out of fear that Tonya would not help her,
part out of gratitude for opening her mind and feelings about what she felt
with Katherine, and partly because it just felt so good.

Tonya broke the kiss first. She told the officer that she would be ready in
a second. And then began putting Beth's two large breasts back into the
bodice of her too small dress. Beth felt a little tingle from the residual
sweetness of their kiss and the way Tonya maneuvered her breasts gently
back into her dress.

A couple of minuets later Tonya turned Beth around and walked her to the
now open door. As the officer was closing and locking the cell door behind
Beth, Tonya said one final thing.

"Take good care of yourself B. And tell Katherine that I said hello. Maybe
the four of us could get together some time soon for some interesting
entertainment. Wouldn't you like that, Beth?"

Tonya winked at Beth before turning away from her. She began to laugh while
she walked back to her cot and to her Thing, who was still in the same
position and motionless as ever.

Once again Beth was shocked to the bone! It even required the officer to
forcefully nudge her a few times to get her walking down the hall and out
of her surprised stupor. In a very short amount of time Beth's life kept on
getting harder and harder for her to understand. Just like Alice, in her
bizarre Wonderland.

***************************************************************************


Part 7 - "The DA Does Damage" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 7)


                         "The DA Does Damage"


Two sets of footsteps were heard coming down the hall. One, from a heavy
set male with a long slow stride, the police officer. The other, a very
fast paced clinking pair of high heels from a woman, which was Beths',
still wearing the leg irons.

They stopped before a door, a wooden one with opaque glass in it. The
officer opened it and firmly escorted a panting, hobbled Beth inside. Her
arms remained cuffed at wrist and elbows behind her. It looked like an
interrogation room with an old wooden table and a couple of chairs next to
it.

In one chair sat a young woman dressed in a conservative gray business
suit. She had shoulder length blonde hair styled loosely around her head
and she was busy reading an open file on the desk.

"Here is the one you wanted to see Ms. Assistant District Attorney, a Ms.
Bimbo," said the officer with a sarcastic tone in his voice and a wide
smile on his face.

Without looking up from the file the woman said thank you to the officer
and told him to leave the woman with her. The officer then moved Beth to
the side of the table and left.

"Well Ms. Bimbo, you seem to have gotten yourself into an awful lot of
trouble this evening. Maybe if you tell me your side of the story I might
be able to . . ."

The young blonde woman stopped in mid sentence after looking up and into
the face of Beth. She squinted her eyes as if she might have known who this
street slut was. Then she smiled from ear to ear and said, "Beth? Beth
Jenson? Is that you?"

Beth looked hard at the woman in return. A good part of her didn't want to
find out who this woman was, because if she did, she knew she was going to
have a lot of explaining to do. And who would believe that someone, anyone,
would go this far just to get rid of a boyfriend.

"Beth, it is you, isn't it? Well isn't it a small world. You do remember me
don't you? Christine, from college?"

'Oh God no! Not her, not Christine,' Beth prayed to herself as the memories
of this woman came flooding back to her.

Not the one she almost had a cat fight with over Christine's boyfriend. A
boyfriend who was nothing but a piece of crap because he hit on her while
he was still dating Christine. Not the one she insulted by calling her
'Crissy, the typical blonde bimbo cheerleader.' And how did such an airhead
like Crissy get to be an Assistant to the District Attorney anyway?

Beth decided not to play as dumb as she obviously looked. So, in as
pleasant a voice as she could, she responded with, "Crissy? I mean
Christine? Is that you? You're sure looking good girl! And holding a job as
an Assistant D.A. too. My goodness your sure doing well."

Christine rose from her chair and walked over to Beth. Once there, she gave
Beth one big tight bear hug. A hug that to Beth felt more like, 'Now I've
got you, you bitch!'

With her arms still handcuffed behind her back all Beth could do was stand
there and receive the false embrace. Even if she was free to respond and
hug her back, she wouldn't, not with that bitch. She still remembered the
night Crissy caught her with her boyfriend at the bar and grill. That's
when Crissy accused her of trying to steal him away from her and ended up
throwing a glass of beer in Beth's face. Maybe it was a good thing that she
was still handcuffed after all.

Christine broke the hug and gave Beth the once over with her eyes before
saying, "Yes, I did change, a little. I finally took stock of myself and
decided to get serious with my life. I applied myself, pulled myself up by
my bootstraps if you will and became an assistant DA. It was all hard work,
but it paid off. I see you have changed quite a bit too Beth.

Now, if memory serves, you wanted to become a hot-shot businesswoman. And
from the looks of you, and your arrest sheet, it's easy to see how "hot"
you really are and what "business" you decided to apply your natural
talents in. But why don't we just sit down and you can tell me your side of
the story. Maybe, for old times sake, we can get you out of this mess
without you going to jail or having a permanent mark on your record, OK?"

Beth was amazed, angered and embarrassed all at the same time. She was
amazed at how Crissy, Christine, had turned her life around with such
positive results. She was angered and embarrassed at how unkind fate was in
what seemed like she and Christine had changed places in life. The contrast
between the two women would have been laughable, if it wasn't so sad. It
was all so unfair and it was all that's Paul's fault too, or Katherine's,
or those policewomen. Then a piece of literature entered her mind, 'The
fault is not in the stars, it is in thee.' She began to wonder if it really
was her fault that resulted in her being in this horrible situation after
all.

"Beth? Beth?"

Christine nudged her college "friend" to wake her from her numb state.

"Let's sit down now and you can tell me how you came to be arrested."

Both women went to facing chairs and sat down. But before Beth could start
explaining herself, the door opened and in walked Katherine. Her knight in
shining armor was here to rescue her!

Beth's face lit up with a smile that filled the whole dreary room. She did
her best to meet Katherine half way to the door, being hobbled as she was.
And as soon as she was close enough, Beth fell into Katherine's open arms.

Beth eyes once again filling with tears, but this time they were tears of
joy clouding her vision. If she could, Beth would have happily returned the
warm hug she received from her Mistress. It was odd in a way, how a small
part of Beth could accept Katherine as her Mistress now.

Katherine whispered in Beth's ear, "My goodness me! My pet sure knows how
to get herself into trouble, now doesn't she," and then she smiled, still
hugging and rocking Beth in her arms.

"B's sorry Mistress, B is so very sorry!"

Beth's response was very sincere. Sincere in that she really thought it was
her fault for being where she was. Sincere in that she had disobeyed
Mistress Katherine's orders in not waiting for her on the corner or getting
the change from her fifty dollar bill like she was suppose to. And sincere
in how her conscious mind had easily accepted her "B" slave status even in
this place.

"Ok pet, pull yourself together and let's see how much trouble you are in."

The two women walked over to the table where Christine was intently
watching what was going on, even though she could not hear what the two
were saying to one another.

As Katherine was sitting down Christine matter of factly asked, "And you
are?"

Katherine finished sitting down and made herself comfortable before
speaking. She would not let someone's young assistant rattle her in the
least. One important fact she learned over the many years in business was
always to present herself in a calm pleasant manner. In short, never let
the opposition see you sweat.

After a moment, Katherine folded her hands together in front of her and
said, "My name is Ms. Katherine Sloan and I am a friend, a good close
friend of the accused. I am here on her behalf, to see why she has been
arrested and, if it is warranted, to see what can be done to make amends to
all concern."

The authoritativeness of Katherine's voice, and persona, brought a spark of
hope to Beth's troubled soul. It also caused Christine to sit up straight
in her chair.

Christine looked for a minute at Katherine and then at Beth's face beaming
at Katherine, her savior.

"I see. In that case we share the same goal. We each want to help our
mutual friend. But I must warn you, I will not commit any illegal act to
help out anyone, even a friend like Beth here. You do understand that,
don't you Ms. Sloan?"

Christine seemed a bit ruffled with Katherine's unexpected presence and it
was noticeable in her tone to both Katherine and Beth. It now appeared that
Beth had only one true friend at that table after all.

"Of course. I am a successful businesswoman and I too would never do
anything to jeopardize my position in the business community, least of all
risk criminal prosecution even for a close friend like B here."

Beth's face changed suddenly as she heard Katherine call her B, her slave
name. She looked over to Christine to see if she might have heard
Katherine's inference too. What she saw was one of Christine's thin arched
eyebrows rise a little.

Christine turned her gaze from Katherine to Beth. She gave her one of those
long hard looks of assessment. Then her lips began to pull themselves back
in a sinister grin of sweet revenge. She held that evil look at Beth for a
few seconds before turning her attention back to the open folder on the
desk.

For a third time tonight Beth's heart sank into the open arms of despair.
Christine, her arch enemy in college, knew what was going on. She probably
even seen the tag on her collar along with its ominous connotation stamped
into it when they hugged. Christine was no dumb blonde, not any more. With
her position in the state's judicial system, she probably saw it all, and
more! Now all Beth could do was pray.

Then, all of a sudden, Beth's mind was full of questions concerning the
integerity of her savior. 'Why did Katherine have to call her B? Why didn't
Katherine tell Christine that she was her boss? Why was Katherine being so
cold and confrontational with Christine? And why was Katherine making
things so much more difficult than they needed to be?'

Once again, it all seemed like it came down to whether she trusted
Katherine or not. And given the situation she was in, NOW, what else could
she do but act the part Katherine left for her to play. A blonde bimbo who
didn't know squat.

"I am glad to hear that Ms. Sloan, again we see eye to eye on this. Now,
let's go over the charges shall we?"

Beth couldn't believe her ears when Christine read off the charges against
her; prostitution, indecent exposure, harassment, resisting arrest! Beth
couldn't hold it in anymore. So she told Christine in a harsh voice that
they were all lies! None of it was true! She was being set up by an
incompetent system of justice and those that were sworn to up hold it!

Christine looked up at Beth with calm disbelief. Beth sounded just like
every low life criminal did when arrested for a crime; angry, hurt, and
unbelievably stupid. Christine simply smiled back. Somehow stupid looked
good on her ex-girlfriend, Ms. Bimbo.

Katherine looked up at Beth's outburst too, with anger in her eyes. In a
commanding voice she told Beth to, "Be quiet pet! I will handle this mess
you have gotten yourself into. So now, and for the last time, hush up pet!"

Again, Beth was thrown for a loop at what Katherine TWICE called her, pet!
She looked at Christine and saw it glaring back at her, intense glowing
satisfaction.

Beth had enough of this. She might have had to take it from Katherine, but
not from Christine. All this time she had to stand next to Katherine
because there were only two chairs in the room. But she wanted to sit down.
So she tempted fate. She demanded that CRISSY get her a chair. Then she
gave the woman her own nasty look. She might appear to be a secondary
citizen with her bimbo attire and criminal charges, but Christine was still
a public servant and sworn to treat all people as equals. And that she was
to be presumed innocent until proven guilty.

Christine was noticeably put off by Beth's demands for a chair, but she had
learned early in her career that losing her cool with offenders was never
the answer. What was the answer, however, was twisting things around and
throwing it right back at them, in their own arrogant face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, "B", but with cut backs and such, the state only allows two
chairs per room now. But if you really are tired standing there, then why
don't you kneel down and sit on the back of your legs right next to Ms.
Sloan. I'm sure your "Mistress" wouldn't mind you doing that. Would you
Katherine?"

When Beth heard Christine's reply oozing with sarcasm and directed at
Katherine as well as herself, she knew right then and there that she should
have never opened her mouth to begin with.

Katherine's whole persona hardened for a moment as her eyes shot daggers at
Christine. Then she closed them and took a deep breath. Once more she fell
back on her years of doing successful business deals. Not all of which were
done with "ideal" clients. So she maintained her professional businesswoman
character and responded back calmly to Christine.

"My name is Ms. Sloan, Christine. And your idea is a good one. I am sure
"B" here is very tired after the long and difficult time she has been put
through by this so called system of justice. Pet, come and kneel down
beside me."

Most of Beth's makeup was washed off by her tears when she was back in the
cell with Tonya, thus making it easy now to see how many shades of red her
face had turned upon hearing Katherine's order.

She tried to tell Katherine that it wasn't really necessary for her to rest
anymore. But Katherine replied with only three short commanding words.

"Pet! Down! Now!"

Beth closed her eyes and bent her head in shame. She had to obey. If
Katherine turned against her now, then she was lost for sure. So Beth
slowly lowered herself to the hard floor and then onto her knees. She eased
herself backwards until she felt her spiked heels jabbing her in the butt.
She did not dare look at Christine's face. For Beth was sure she would be
delightfully pleased with herself as the originator of Beth's current
humiliating position. Beth just sat quietly, her head hung down in complete
and total disgrace.

The two women then began to talk about the charges.

Soon Beth felt the hand of Katherine compassionately stroking her head.
Beth was once again torn with opposing feelings. Part of her was glad at
Katherine's continued show of affection and support for her, while another
part of her felt even more humiliated at being treated as a well-trained
dog at their master's side.

As time passed, Beth could no longer keep track of the conversation. Many
times she thought about interrupting the discussion, but feared doing so
would only make things worse for her. But Beth was really hurting now. Her
shoulders ached terribly, and her general discomfort was now turning into
spasms of outright pain. She could no longer endure it. That's when she
made another big mistake. She said it in a loud clear voice, right in the
middle of the two women's conversation.

"EXCUSE ME! But I was told that a man was called to remove these damn
defective handcuffs. Could you PLEASE see if he has arrived yet? They are
really starting to hurt me badly."

Christine knew it was directed at her. She also knew that Beth was probably
justified in asking that they be removed. Even the words Beth used were
more on the order of a submissive request than her former command for a
chair. But the tone of her voice, now that was all pure condemnation and
Christine disliked that just as much as being ordered about by a bimbo
criminal. Adding to that, it was getting late and Christine was very tired.
Put it all together and it made sense what Christine said to Katherine.

"My, my, my, Ms. Sloan. I do hope you train your animal pets with much
better manners than you do with your human ones."

Beth sighed deeply and shook her head. She knew Katherine would not
tolerate Christine's blatant insolence because of what SHE just said. Beth
knew she was about to suffer another indignity at the hand of Katherine and
instigated by her enemy Christine. But what could she do? She was damned if
she did and damned if she didn't. So lost in her own depression that Beth
was barely aware of Katherine's response.

"You are correct Christine. There is no excuse for bad manners. I must
apologize for my pet's unwelcome, but NOT without cause, outburst. I will
see to it that it doesn't happen again, AND, if YOU don't mind, YOU can see
what is keeping that man who is supposed to release my pet from your crude
defective restraint equipment."

Although Christine showed Beth what for, Katherine seemed to show Christine
her place in turn. The pecking order was well established. Beth was now as
far below Christine as Katherine was above Beth's hated enemy. It might
have made Katherine feel good establishing her superiority over Christine,
but it certainly made Beth feel a lot worse kneeling on the floor in front
of both women.

Beth heard Christine's chair squeak as it was forcefully pushed back. At
the same time she felt Katherine's hand grab her hair and pull her head
back. Beth's eyes squeezed tightly shut from the hair pull and she let out
an audible groan of pain that was immediately stifled with a large nerf
ball being forced deep into her mouth.

Beth was instantly made more totally helpless. She was shackled at ankles,
elbows and wrists. She was kneeling on the floor with her stiletto heals
trying to impale her butt cheeks. Her head was held firmly in place by a
hand tightly wrapped around her hair. And now, a foam nerf ball was being
stuffed into her gaping mouth silencing her cries of distress into pitiful
senseless moans.

Beth opened her eyes and saw the hand of Katherine cramming that huge
spongy ball into every unfilled space in her disobeying mouth. Then she saw
Christine looking down on her and never had she seen another person look
so joyfully at the distress of another. But then her mind turned to Tonya,
when she looked at Thing. Tonya and Christine both had that same gratifying
self indulgent look.

Beth quickly shut her eyes. She did not want to see that demoralizing look
again, especially when it was directed at her. She was not a THING, even
though everyone seemed to treat her as one.

It was done. The pain she had felt in her hair had moved. It had gone to
her over stretched mouth now. Twice in one night, Beth's mouth was full to
bursting. It almost felt like she was still wearing that inflatable bladder
gag again.

Katherine grabbed Beth's lower jaw and directed her line of sight up
towards her. She told Beth to open her eyes and look at her.

Beth slowly did hoping not to see Christine looking down at her. She saw
instead the angry eyes of Katherine.

"Now you listen to me pet. Since your bad manners have embarrassed me in
front of the assistant DA and your behavior is more like a spoiled little
child than a devoted obedient slave, I have no recourse but to punish you
as a child. Now get up and place yourself over my knees for a spanking."

Beth's eyes flew wide open as she vigorously shook her head no. How could
Katherine do this to her? Wasn't she here to help her, to rescue her from
the hands of her college nemesis? To give her a spanking was bad enough,
but to do so in front of Christine was infinitely worst. 'Why not just cut
off my head and give it to Christine on the end of a stick' Beth thought to
herself as she tried to communicate this to Katherine. But how could she?
Her arms were helplessly bound behind her. Her mouth was packed with foam.
And being restrained at her ankles made it impossible for her to run away.
All she could do was to beg, to plead with her eyes, for Katherine not to
do this ultimate act of humiliation before her sworn enemy. But Katherine's
eyes were cold.

"Pet, you have a choice. You will either place yourself over my knees now
for twenty hard whacks, or you will put yourself over the knees of
Christine for 50. Considering how your temper and bad manners were directed
at her, I doubt if she would mind punishing you. So who do you want to
spank the naughty little girl that you have become? Decide now, or I will
do it for you."

The look in Katherine's eyes made the choice easy for Beth. So with tears
streaming down her cheeks Beth raised herself up and slowly lowered herself
over the knees of Katherine.

Katherine pushed her bound arms off to the side and raised what little was
left by her abbreviated pink latex mini dress. Beth's chubby butt cheeks
were now fully exposed to Katherine's hand and Christine's salivating eyes.
A few seconds of silence passed and then . . . WACK!

This was the worst of Beth's waking nightmare. Her body and mind were in
agony, part from the stinging pain in her ass, but mostly from the intense
shame she felt in her soul. Katherine, her knight in shinning armour, had
instantly turned into the black knight. With each painful whack, she felt
herself slipping further and further into a dark agonizing abyss. Her head
would jerk up with muffed screams of torment. Her hands would grab out into
the air trying to shield, trying to stop, the violent abuse. But Katherine
held her arms firmly off to the side with one hand while the other
continued the punishment.

When five slaps had been issued Katherine said, "B, I am so ashamed of you
and your bad behavior that I am going to ask your caring friend Christine
if she would like to finish your punishment by giving you the remaining 15
whacks upon your disobedient ass. Christine, would you mind finishing B's
punishment? After all, it was you who she offended the most."

Christine could not believe what she just heard. She was already in heaven
watching Beth get what she deserved at the hand of someone who, supposedly,
cared for her the most. But now, being offered the chance to punish Beth
herself was the proverbial cherry on the cake. So excited was Christine
that words failed her. She could only nod her head yes and moved quickly to
where Katherine had Beth draped over her knees.

"All right Christine, considering that Beth's worst nightmare would be
receiving a spanking from you, it will be necessary for me to hold her
down. Now, whenever you are ready Christine, give this very bad girl
fifteen whacks just as hard as you can. Enjoy them B and let this be a
lesson to you. Maybe next time you will act more like a proper well-trained
pet instead of a disobedient one. Christine, you may begin."

SMACK! Went the first one. So hard was it that Christine had to rub the
sting out of her own palm. The rest followed at random and with as much
force as Christine could muster. Beth's pain was unending, both physically
and emotionally. Her misery was compounded by insult and all that was left
her was to accept, endure and pray for a quick finish.

To Beth, her spanking, her complete and total degradation at the hands of
her sworn enemy and her most trusted friend seemed to last a life time. To
Christine, it was over far to quickly, even though she relished each and
every slap. And to Katherine, it was just something that needed to be done.

Katherine pulled a whimpering Beth off her lap and took hold of her wet
jaw. Several times she had to tell Beth to look at her before she finally
did.

"Pet, I want you to get up and go stand in that far corner, facing it. I
don't even want to see you. I don't want you to move from that corner until
I tell you too. And I certainly don't want to hear a peep out of you
either. You are being punished like any naughty little schoolgirl would be.
Once in your corner I want you to reflect on how this was all your fault.
How you showed very bad manners to Christine here, and in so doing, you
have embarrassed me, your Mistress, who cares very much for you. You have
hurt two people who are trying to help you. You are a very bad girl pet and
you should be ashamed of yourself. Now go!"

Beth was lost in an emotional wasteland. She was still weeping and
sniveling as she shuffled off to the corner. She stood there, her wet face
almost touching the corner walls. How could all this be her fault? She
tried to rationalize her way out of it, but in all honesty could not. She
was rude, indeed hostile to Christine.

Maybe Christine did change, and was actually going to help her after all.
Could she have been that wrong about how she felt about Christine's
motives? And what about Katherine? Why didn't she help her instead of
continuing to humiliate her every chance she got? She couldn't have
deserved all of it. Why didn't Katherine tell Christine she worked for her?
That this was all an unbelievable misunderstanding, a plan to get rid of a
stupid boyfriend and have a better life in California.

But when she searched her emotions, they seemed to point to her and not to
Katherine as the person responsible. She even felt like she was to blame
for Katherine's anger towards her. That Katherine was justified in
punishing her for her childish behavior.

Beth was totally lost in the moment. Her butt was burning from the
spanking. Her shoulders and arms were aching terribly from the strain of
being pulled back so brutally and for so long by the metal cuffs. Her legs
and ankles were throbbing from the shackles and her high heel shoes. Her
feelings were hurt by the way Katherine had betrayed her the way she did.
Or maybe it was really her, who betrayed Katherine? Beth was so confused
and in pain that she really didn't care anymore. All she wanted was for it
to end, the sooner the better.

"CHRISTINE" shouted Katherine as the assistant DA just stood mesmerized at
her former classmate's situation. She was rubbing her stinging red palms
together to sooth her own physical discomfort, which was a small price to
pay for such an outstanding act of sadism that she played a major role in.
So excited with Beth's debasement, that Christine began unconsciously
rubbing herself between her legs until Katherine shouted her name and
shocked her out of her mouth watering wet dream.

"You were supposed to check on the status of the man who is to take off B's
handcuff's, remember!" Katherine's voice was definitely commanding now.

Christine was caught off guard, both from seeing her long time fantasy come
true and now Katherine's dominating presence. All she could do was to nod
her head and then slowly make her way to the door on the opposite wall from
where Beth stood, still whimpering in her corner.

Christine opened the door and found an officer standing in the hallway.
They had a short conversation and then Christine re-entered the room and
closed the door. She slowly walked back to the table all the while staring
at the bright red ass of her college foe. Once she was at the table she sat
back down in her chair, still staring, and still smiling from ear to ear.

"Well?" Katherine demand in a clear loud voice.

Christine, again startled out of her pleasant state, finally turned her
attention to Katherine.

"Umm, they said he is on his way and will be here in about 20 minutes."

"Good! Twenty minutes should be all the time we need to wrap this up,
correct Christine?"

Katherine knew now was the time to play her hand, to take control of the
situation and to play hard ball. Christine was totally distracted by Beth's
horrendous situation and Katherine was going to use that to make a deal
with Christine for Beth's freedom.

Thirty minutes later a knock on the door was answered by strong woman's
voice.

"ENTER!"

A short, thin, middle-aged man came in. He said he was here to remove some
defective handcuffs.

He was answered by a mature poised woman sitting at a table and pointing to
a corner.

The man squinted through his heavy bifocal glasses. When he was able to
focus, his mouth dropped open. In the corner he saw a woman in pink latex.
Her latex covered arms were bound behind her in two sets of handcuffs. Her
skirt was up around her waist displaying a totally naked derriere that
still had a subdued red glow about it. He was about to say something, but
the older woman, who was obviously in control, looked at him sternly and
told him to remove the cuffs, and to pay no attention to the girl wearing
them. His only job was removing the three pairs of defective cuffs and then
get out.

The little man was so shaken that he seemed to stumble on his way to the
girl in the corner. He glanced at the table and noticed another woman
there. She was much younger and hard at work writing on one of many papers
scattered in front of her.

Christine took one final exhausted look at the folder and said to
Katherine, "Well, I guess that does it. I'll go and run this down with my
boss for his ok. I don't see any trouble though. I'll be right back in
about 10 or 20 minutes, OK?"

"That will be fine Christine, the quicker we finish, the sooner we can put
this all behind us."

Christine smiled in agreement. She stood and took one more look at Beth.
The funny little man was blocking her view. He had already removed Beth's
ankle cuffs and was now working on the wrist cuffs and thus obscured most
of her view. She sighed, grinned and left the room.

A couple of minutes after she left, the little man was putting his tools
away. Less than a minute later he picked up his toolbox and the three pairs
of cuffs, and scurried out of the room. He didn't even look at Katherine,
let alone ask why a hooker had been handcuffed and made to stand in the
corner. His departure left Katherine sitting alone at the table and Beth
standing facing the corner with her hands at her sides. Her butt was still
fully exposed and she was as still and quiet as the air in the room.

Katherine turned in her chair and slowly stood up. She walked over to Beth
and stopped a short distance from her. She took a minute to look at her
chastised pet, then she reached out and began to gently rub Beth's upper
arms and shoulders.

Beth shook Katherine's touch off her and tried to moved deeper into the
corner.

Katherine smiled and put one hand over her lips to hold back a giggle. Beth
was acting just like the proverbial hurt little child and this thought made
her laugh to herself. She thought it was so funny how well Beth was
acclimating to her play role in life. It seemed, even to her, that it took
less and less of a conscious effort on Beth's part to stay in character
now.

"Poor, poor B. I am so sorry I had to do that to you sweetie, but you,
Christine and the whole awful situation left me no other choice."

Again, Katherine began to rub Beth's arms through the pink latex material
where the cuffs had sunken into, and and this time Beth did not pull away.
Katherine then pulled Beth close to her so she could whisper in her ear.

"Really Beth, I had no choice. I had to play it this way. It was our only
way out!"

Beth's eyes opened wide and she turned to face Katherine. She heard her
real name, Beth. It seemed like years since Katherine had called her that.
Maybe Katherine didn't betray her after all. Maybe there was a reason, a
method to her dominating madness towards her. Beth looked into Katherine's
warm compassionate eyes and found herself starting to cry.

Katherine pulled Beth into a full loving embrace, and this time, Beth
hugged her back with all the love and joy her aching body could deliver.

"There there pet, let's go sit down. And while I clean up your wet dirty
face, I will explain to you why I did what I had to do, and why YOU must do
what you need to do."

Like mother and daughter they walked over to the chairs with their arms
around each other in support. But before they sat down Katherine had to
tell Beth to pull her skirt down over her butt. Beth was becoming so
obedient and more simple minded with each passing moment.

Katherine took a handkerchief from her purse and began to clean Beth's face
while telling her the reason why. Beth just sat there like a poor little
child on their tender burning butt ready to listen to the parent's tale of
why she had to be disciplined. All the while, the nerf ball was still
packed deep into Beth's mouth with no attempt by Katherine, or Beth, to
remove it. More and more the submissive slave status was becoming ingrained
into Beth's new psyche.

Katherine told Beth why she chose not to tell Christine that she was her
boss. She knew what charges Beth had been arrested for from the desk
sergeant, prostitution being the major one. In addition, she had overheard
Christine and Beth's initial conversation while they were alone in the
interrogation room. Putting two and two together, she gathered that
Christine was really not Beth's friend, and in fact, could seriously do her
a world of hurt. This fact she soon had confirmed with her own short
conversation with Christine.

Beth felt the heaviness in her spirit lift when Katherine confirmed her own
suspicion that Christine was really out to get her.

Katherine surmised that if she told Christine that she was Beth's boss,
Christine might have thought by boss she meant "Madame". Once Christine had
that thought in her head, then she could quite possibly go after Katherine
as well. So Katherine had to think up some kind of relationship that
existed between the two of them to ward off that illegal connotation.

Katherine was too old for the two of them to be just girlfriends. So she
had to hint at something, a little more intimate, without saying it out
right. The old philosophy of a little information can go a long way did
have some merit in situations like this. And considering the way Beth was
dressed she also had to make Christine think that this special relationship
was on the kinky side, again without coming out and admitting to it. That
is why she had no choice but to treat Beth as her private slave girl in
front of Christine the way she did.

Beth's depressed heart lightened tremendously when she heard Katherine's
explanation. She even felt a little shame and guilt for having thought that
Katherine might have betrayed her.

From their continued conversation, Katherine told Beth how Christine was
really out to get her. She was intent on getting her pound of flesh from
Beth to the point of making it her personal goal to see to it that Beth did
jail time. That outcome would have ruined all their hard work not to
mention their future plans.

Beth's heart missed a beat when she heard that one.

Given Christine's need for revenge and Beth's increasing antagonism toward
Christine, the situation left Katherine with just one solution. To
humiliate Beth with a spanking at the hands of Christine with the result
that Christine would have obtained her much needed revenge and Beth would
finally stop making a bad situation worse. Then, she could negotiate a deal
with an appeased Christine and maybe keep Beth from going to jail. Which
was exactly what she was able to do.

Katherine explained to Beth that there was no other way, that formidable
problems require drastic solutions, and given the small amount time to work
with, that was all she could come up with. She had hoped that Beth would
understand and forgive her for taking matters, and her, in her own hands
like she did.

When Beth heard that, she threw her arms around Katherine and hugged her
with all her might. She truly had a good trustworthy friend in Katherine.
She was even glad that the nerf ball was still stuffed in her mouth. This
way she could not tell Katherine how she thought she might had betrayed her
and how she had wished all manner of ills will upon her while she was in
her corner.

Katherine gently pushed Beth away and told her about the deal she made for
her, for both of them.

"Now listen to me carefully B. The deal I made with Christine will allow
you to go free tonight, but, you must sign some papers first. Keep in mind
those papers will mean nothing when we get out to California. Besides they
only go into effect for a limited amount of time before they become null
and void. You have to trust me B. I did the best I could and this was the
best deal I could make under the circumstances.

You are going to have to sign them tonight in front of a judge or else you
will go back to jail to stand trial for your crimes, and most certainly you
will receive a long prison sentence. Do you understand how important it is
for you to sign those papers B? You have to do this if you want to come to
California with me and start your brand new life at my right hand."

Beth nodded her head yes with complete trust, whatever those papers were,
whatever they forced her to do, she would sign them all. Her trust in
Katherine was absolute. She will never doubt her again. Katherine was a
shrewd businesswoman and a very good friend. She would never again doubt
Katherine's benevolent interest in her. To this and all else she pledged to
herself, and to Katherine--her true white knight.

A short time later, the three women found themselves in Judge Barbara
Stone's chambers. The judge was getting on, probably in her 60's. Her hair
was gray and short, and her face showed the lines of both stress and
wisdom. She wore the long black robe symbolic of objectivity and justice.
She had called a short recess from the matter she was presiding over in
open court and was now going to witness Beth signing of some official
documents.

The judge sat behind a large dark oak desk with Beth standing in front of
it. To Beth's left sat her college foe and antagonist Christine. To Beth's
right sat her salvation and dear friend Katherine. All three of those
sitting women reflected intelligence, wisdom and power. And all three were
impeccable role models for today's modern woman.

Beth, on the other hand, stood in the middle of them on her pink stiletto
heels. She wore a bubble gum pink latex mini dress that displayed all of
her luscious feminine attributes most provocatively. She had to remain very
still or else the crackling of her latex dress and gloves sounded like
bombs going off in the dead silence of the judge's chambers.

The contrast was dramatic. Three women symbolizing integrity, morality and
human dignity with just a touch of femininity, and one gussied up tart, a
blonde bimbo with all the trimmings, and an affront to women everywhere.
And this stark contrast was not lost on Beth either, as again all she
wanted was for it to be over with, as soon as possible, no matter what the
cost.

The judge was reviewing the papers before her through her thick glasses.
Only a few minutes had passed when she spoke to Beth while still reading
the papers.

"Have you read and agreed to the contents of these documents young lady?"

Beth nodded her head and murmured an inaudible yes.

"Speak up dear, I didn't hear what you said."

Again Beth shook her head and made an effort to make a louder sound of
affirmation to the judge. She would have said the word yes, but with the
nerf ball still filling her mouth she thought it would be better not to say
anything. There would be less chance of her humiliating herself any more
than her dressed already did.

The judge, a bit perturbed now, looked up at Beth and asked her, "Is there
something wrong with your mouth young lady?"

Beth's eyes grew wide with fear, as she shook her head no. Her big gaudy
earrings making a distinct rattling sound in the process.

"Good, then tell me in plain English if you understand what is in these
important documents?"

Beth's head dropped down as her eyes closed in shame. Then she tried to say
the word yes, but it came out muffled and totally unclear, compliments of
that large foam ball.

The judge began to look upon Beth with consternation. Then she took off her
bifocals and asked Beth in a firm voice, "Is there something in your
mouth?"

Beth nodded yes, her eyes remaining down cast as her hands fidgeted with
themselves behind her back. The sound of latex creaking seemed overly loud
in the room.

Sternly the judge commanded Beth to take whatever it was out of her mouth
and to answer her question post haste!

Beth glanced over to Katherine, who with a little smile on her face, nodded
her head yes. Beth then began to dig that damn nerf ball out of her vocal
canal. It never even occurred to Beth that she had looked to Katherine for
permission first even after given a direct order by a high court judge.

The judge looked on with only partial amazement. She had been a judge far
too long not to have seen the many ways a person could humiliate themselves
in front of her. This was just another one of those times.

Beth finally got the thing out and quickly hid it behind her back like a
child hiding a cookie. She coughed once, quietly, and then again, much
louder. Her mouth was dry. So she swallowed hard and said in her girlish
voice, "yes". She looked over at Katherine, who gave her a stern look with
one raised eyebrow. She then quickly repeated herself, "Yes, your Honor."
Beth remembered the value of good manners and even rubbed one of her butt
cheeks to emphasize how hard a lesson it had been.

"Well, if you have read and agreed to the contents of these papers, then I
see no reason for you not to sign them. Here is a pen young lady sign at
the bottom of each page marked with an X."

'Three papers,' Beth thought to herself. But there was only suppose to be
two. Katherine said there would only be two. One stating that she was a
full-blown lesbian and would never ever even think of having sex with a
man. Katherine said Christine demanded this, because it was just a little
added dash of revenge on her part. It also helped to negate the
prostitution charge. Caught dressed as a sex-pot while standing on a street
corner without any underwear on and caring a bag full of condoms would make
it very hard to disprove to a jury that she really wasn't a bonafide trick
turning prostitute. Thus, having her sign a document stating AS FACT that
she was a homosexual, a die-hard lesbian, would help immensely in getting
that charge dropped.

The second paper was to give Katherine power of attorney over Beth. Again,
this was part of the deal with Christine. She thought by giving Katherine
power of attorney over Beth then Katherine would be held responsible for
Beth's future actions. There would then be a good chance that this sort of
thing would never happen again.

Beth trusted Katherine completely, and agreed to this part of the deal as
well. She had no reason to doubt Katherine's intentions. Besides, as
Katherine told her, both documents would become null and void in California
anyway.

But a third? Katherine didn't tell her about a third. The judge noticed
Beth's hesitation.

"Do you have a problem in signing these documents young lady? You just
finished telling me that you have already read them and fully understood
their meaning. Why are you wasting this courts valuable time by delaying?
Sign the papers now or go back to jail, I don't have all night. Now
choose!"

Beth's face showed her fear. In no way did she want to go back to jail,
period. She took a quick look over at Katherine who gave her a
compassionate smile and nodded her head as if saying go ahead, trust me,
everything will be all right just as soon as you sign the papers. Beth face
then showed relief and she strutted up to the judge's desk, her latex
clothes making all sorts of sounds. She picked up the pen and then bent
down to sign the bottom line of all three documents.

The lady judge quickly leaned back into her chair. The view of Beth's full
ripe breasts bulging out of her very low cut pink dress was too much for
her Honor to take up close. The judge took a deep breath and sighed. She
wondered what was happening to the young people these days. To allow
oneself to be turned into a mindless freaks of depraved sexuality without a
care for their own self worth was beyond her understanding. Lucky for her
she was nearing retirement and would no longer have to deal with degenerate
people like this much longer.

Beth tried to see what the third paper was, but they where all arranged
over one another with just the bottom of the documents showing where her
name was to go. The top one was her lesbian identity affidavit and the
other two were covered by it.

Beth put the pen down and stood up again. She felt a wave of goose bumps
flow over her exposed flesh as if she had just fallen out of the frying pan
and into the fire. Her eyes were still cast down. She didn't dare look at
the judge even after she took a couple of steps back to where she
originally stood. This time she did remember to pull down her skirt when
she was again standing at attention with her hands behind her grasping her
ever present soggy nerf ball.

The judge quickly signed the documents making them official then told all
parties that the proceedings were officially over. The assistant DA was to
file the documents and everyone was free to go. She rose from her desk and
headed back into the courtroom without a single look back.

Christine rose from her chair and picked up the documents. She walked over
to Katherine and shook her hand. She commented to her on how glad she was
that a mutual agreement could be reached without Beth going to jail. She
then told Katherine that she could be reached at the DA's office whenever
she was ready for her.

Christine looked at Beth, smiled, and told her she was looking forward to
seeing her again, really soon. Then she turned and left the room.

Beth was a bit perplexed by what Christine had said to Katherine, and to
her as well. She watched intently as her hated foe left the room. If she
had anything to say about it, she would never see that bitch again as long
as she lived.

Katherine stepped in front on Beth, took hold of her face in her hands and
gave her a soft warm kiss. Beth closed her eyes and accepted the kiss from
her Mistress. And this time, she even used her own tongue to play with
Katherine's.

Katherine was the first to slowly break this mutual endearing act of love.
She gently shook Beth's head to nudge the beauty from her pleasant dreamy
state.

"Wake up sleepy head. We have a lot to do and very little time to do it in.
You are out of this mess, but we still have Paul on our heels. The Board
has released the news that I am to head the California branch. It is now
official, which means they will want me to get out there as soon as
possible. We have only a few days left to dump Paul and for you to come
with me. I have one last plan that will get rid of Paul once and for all in
the short time we have left. This is a do or die situation B. You have to
trust me like you never trusted me before. It is going to be hard for you
and that cannot be helped. But the reward for success will be more than
compensatory. I need you to follow my orders quickly and to the letter if
this is going to work. And I have all the confidence in the world that it
will work too! Are you with me on this B?"

The answer for Beth was easy, "Yes Mistress Katherine. I am yours, in mind,
body and soul." She remembered those words, the same words she almost spoke
to Tonya a few hours ago. She was very glad she was able to say them to
Katherine, her Mistress, her owner.

"Good! Now put that ball back into your mouth and follow me."

Katherine turned and left the room. Beth immediately followed her, taking
two mincing steps to her one, and trying as quickly as she could to force
that big nerf ball back in her mouth. As she followed Katherine she could
hear people giggling, laughing and making snide remarks at the pink bimbo
trying to eat a large piece of sponge. But it didn't matter to Beth, she no
longer felt humiliated at what she was, or what she was doing. Her White
Knight was there for her when she needed her most.

If Katherine didn't mind people laughing at her, then Beth didn't either.
Besides, it would all be over very soon. The Promised Land was there before
her. All she had to do was whatever Mistress Katherine said and it would
all be hers for the taking.

Again two sets of footsteps were heard walking down the hall. One, a woman
in low heels, impeccably dressed with a determined look of confidence and
drive on her face. The other, another woman, a bimbo street slut in pink.
Her gait of small mincing steps had a sexy swagger to it. She emitted a
look of confidence and eagerness as well, one that made every man who saw
her drool with sexual craving.

***************************************************************************


Part 8 - "Katherine Does a Delilah" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 8)


                      "Katherine Does a Delilah"


This was it, the last page of Katherine's plan was about to be turned. Beth
could hear voices in the other room, like the voices of an anxious audience
waiting for the final act to be played out. When the curtain rises again,
there she will stand, on center stage, the fair damsel in distress waiting
for her heroine to save her from certain doom.

Beth was anxious for the final act to begin. She was on the downward slide
now, with her role as a dynamic actress in Katherine's great plan reduced
to that of an inert prop. The unique, cognitive and complex human being
known as Beth Jenson was about to be sacrificed on the D/s altar of sexual
depravity. She was to become a simple object of lust, of property, and of
depraved indifference. She was passing through the final torment of hell
with grand expectations of being reborn again on the other side in
California.

Katherine, dear wonderful Katherine, was her spirit guide. Beth could not
have asked for anyone more knowledgeable, more resourceful and more
dedicated to her salvation than her boss and now closest friend. Katherine
was truly a dear friend for all seasons.

Beth remained in Katherine's great room, her body nude, helpless, and
fully displayed. She was waiting, waiting in anxious anticipation for the
end to come at long last. And she was waiting in trembling fear for the
"bonding ceremony" to begin.

She closed her eyes and felt the hard wooden surface on the back of her
head. A smile formed on her face, a smile of self-pity. How could she have
allowed it to go this far? Was there something wrong with her? It was bad
enough for Katherine to cut her long brunette hair short and then dyed it
blonde for her role as office bimbo, but to take it to this extreme was
beyond any degree of normality.

Normality? She chuckled when that word passed through her mind. Nothing
about her life was normal any more. Not her clothes, not her job, not even
her identity, nothing at all! Except, for her relationship with Katherine.
That was real! That had substance! And that was her lifeline back to a
normal way of life!

Many times she found herself falling over the edge and into the dark abyss,
only to have Katherine's strong will and determination bring her back from
certain destruction. If it weren't for Katherine, then she would be in
prison with all hopes of a wonderful life in California gone. Thus, her
devotion to Katherine was absolute. Whatever Katherine wanted, she would
do. When Katherine told her time and circumstance required drastic action,
she told Katherine she understood and would comply. But her understanding
and loyalty did not come easy, especially when Katherine told her what she
had planned for the final act.

Beth tried to flex her body but the straps held her fast. With the smile
gone and her eyes closed she began shaking her head from side to side. An
unconscious act of resistance, as her mind began to re-live those dark
memories of only a day ago.

That night, when the two returned home from the exhausting experience at
the police station, Katherine told Beth what she wanted to do to end this
farce. Beth was shocked into disbelief when she first heard it. She was
equally dumfounded with her own response to Katherine's barbaric strategy
when she heard her voice say, "Yes Mistress, whatever you want of me, your
devoted slave, I will obey."

Beth already knew, because of the lack of time, that other options were not
an option. Her only recourse was to do what Katherine had planned or suffer
the consequences. But what truly scared her was the way she was so
accepting and compliant, as if her role as a slave girl had truly become a
reality. A reality that was beginning to make her question her ability to
continue "playing" the role as a fantasy anymore.

If it wasn't for the fact that this farce was to end soon, then Beth
thought seriously of running away from the whole charade. From Katherine,
from Paul, from the corporation, even from this part of the country to save
herself, to save her identity, to save her sanity, to even save her very
soul.

But for the sake of the future, her future, Beth followed Katherine's lead.
She said yes to the bonding ceremony with dread and fear, and she said yes
to having her head shaved with the same distaste and regret.

Beth began to slowly bang the back of her bald head on the wooden post
trying to stop the flow of images that were projecting themselves with
disturbing clarity in her mind's eye. But she remembered it all to well,
every humiliating minute of it.

The evening after they came home from dining out Katherine told her to go
and remove all her clothes and meet her back in the great room. Beth
remembered how nervous she was, not from being seen nude in front of the
big picture window, but nervous as to whether she would be successfully in
playing out her role of happy little slave girl throughout the hair
removing process.

A strong image appeared in her mind of what was the first thing she saw
when she entered the great room. Katherine was standing with a big smile on
her face behind a wooden chair with armrests that was facing the center of
the window. She was wearing a long white wrap-around smock tied with a sash
such as someone in a beauty salon would wear. And on her feet were a pair
of white low heeled shoes. That was all. One of her hands was on the top
part of the straight back chair while her other was beckoning her to come
and sit down in it.

Beth remembered how slowly she walked over to Katherine, all the while
stroking her blonde hair and trying her best to keep a smile on her face.
When she was close enough, she touched and then grasped Katherine's hand.
She could still feel how warm and steady Katherine's hand was compared to
her own cold and trembling one. When Katherine compassionately eased her
into the chair she could feel the coldness of the seat on her bare butt.

As long as soon as she was seated, that damn yellow nerf ball appeared in
front of her. Katherine was holding it there, steady as ever. Beth knew
what to do next, and part of her was grateful for it as well. For once that
ball was in her mouth, any speech from her, any pleas to stop, would be
completely unintelligible and the scene would continue on no matter what
she tried to say.

She took the ball in her hand and opened her mouth wide to accept it. In
the process, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror that was placed
directly in front of her. It startled her at first, seeing herself with her
mouth stretched wide ready to accept that yellow ball. She thought for a
moment at how odd it was. All the other times Katherine was the one who
gagged her. But now, she was the one doing it without a second thought. She
watched in weird fascination as she shoved that brightly colored ball deep
into her own gaping mouth wondering yet again if her slave role was really
just a part she was playing in a fantasy game.

Just as the last bit of yellow foam vanished, she was suddenly struck by a
revelation. Her eyes went wide and her red lips parted into an "O"
revealing a patch of yellow like that of a target on a bull's eye. She was
going to have a front row seat, watching every little prolonged step in
having her hair removed at the hand of her most closest and dearest friend.
Her mind searched for a reason why. Why did Katherine want to make her
watch her own humiliation? Why couldn't she just experience the lost of
this aspect of her femininity by the sense of touch alone? Why did she have
to compound the intensity of her shame and embarrassment by making her
watch the whole damn thing? She searched in vain for a reason and could
only come up with one. As a slave girl hers was not to reason why, hers was
but to do or . .  .  and die she did, on the inside, on that accursed
night.

She opened her eyes, and found herself still tethered to the wooden pole in
the great room. She tried to focus on her present situation, but all she
could see was her image in that damn mirror and Katherine's hands caressing
her face and upper body in an attempt to relax her before the lady barber
practiced her trade.

Again, she closed her eyes and allowed her memories to flow just like she
let Katherine's soft, delicate touch flow over her tense body. It helped,
Katherine's gentle caring massage. She remembered how Katherine slowly took
her hands and rested them on the armrests. She remembered how Katherine put
her warm arms around her and hugged her tightly from behind. And she
remembered how Katherine kissed her ever so lightly on the cheek before
asking her if she was ready to begin.

She remembered all that. But somehow, she didn't remember nodding her head
yes, while nuzzling her cheek up next to Katherine's. Nor did she remember
when Katherine released her warm cuddling hug from about her. She did,
vaguely, remember Katherine running her fingers through her hair, fondling
it, caressing it ever so gently. And she most definitely remembered hearing
that distinct buzzing sound when that electric clipper was switched on!

That's when her eyes shot open and her hands grasped the armrests with all
her might. Her fingers and nails trying to dig deeply into the hard
lacquered wood. That's also when she heard Katherine say those odd terrible
words to her.

"Why don't we have a little fun in the process B. Lets see what you would
look like with a Mohawk. Won't that be fun pet?"

Fun? FUN! How could anything as ugly and loathsome to a woman as losing her
hair be even remotely considered as fun. But alas, once more she was forced
to look, and act, the part of a happy slave girl. A slave who was eager to
have her golden locks removed to please her dear Mistress. An act that made
her feel more like a farm animal, a sheep, that was about to be shorn.

So she widened her lips, to force a big smile from then, while barely
shaking her head yes. She continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Her
eyes full of fear, sadness and regret, which was the complete opposite of
what her happy smiling face was indicating.

The whole exhibition was all so surreal for her. First feeling the cold
vibrating metal clippers touching one side of her smooth brow. Then
watching it move slowly up and over her head like a miniature lawn mower
leaving behind it a straight well defined path of closely cropped fuzz.
When it's trek ended, at the back of her neck, she could feel a tickle as a
small tuft of hair logged itself between the back of the chair and her
exposed goose bump flesh.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion now. Her vision was fixed and
focused on the changing image before her. She could not stop herself from
watching as row after row of her blonde hair was being systematically
removed, leaving in it's wake something barely visible to the human eye.
Nothing more than stubble that looked like it belonged more on a man's face
than on her head.

She continued to stare into the mirror. A small little smile, or was it a
grimace, remained frozen on her face as Katherine began running the buzzing
clippers on the other side of her head. And again, the horrible process was
repeated. A few minutes later the buzzing stopped and she felt something
warm being brushed into her stubble. The smiling face that stared back at
her took on another change in appearance as each side of her head was being
covered in white foamy lather.

In a way, she felt a little better now, for the warm soapy foam reminded
her of shampoo and the many times she enjoyed washing her lovely long hair.
She could even smell a faintly familiar scent between the shampoo she once
used and that of the shaving cream Katherine was using on her now. But once
more, Beth's silver lining was covered by a dark cloud as Katherine
carefully guided a double blade safety razor over her frothy white crown.

Soon she was looking at herself with a kind of disembodied fascination.
With one side of her head completely shaven, she could see how big it made
her ear look. Beth relaxed a little as she turned her head to one side to
get a better view. It's not like she never saw her ear before. She just
never seen it in full view without any hair surrounding it.

All of a sudden, she felt Katherine rubbing her head with a towel to remove
any left over shaving cream from both sides. She could not see the finished
product because her view was quickly obstructed as Katherine moved in front
of her. Her chin was grasped in Katherine's hand and her head moved from
side to side. Katherine was busy inspecting her skills as a barber.

She remembered catching Katherine smiling in satisfaction at the result of
her handiwork. She then felt a wave of delight flow across her damaged
soul. Again, she wondered why Katherine's happiness would instill the same
effect inside of her, especially in the middle of such a humiliating
experience like this. She decided to close her eyes and wait for Katherine
to finish playing barber. She had no desire to enjoy, out of empathy, such
a bitter waking nightmare.

Katherine spent a good amount of time brushing and combing her remaining
hair back and then up. No doubt intent on getting that special look she was
after. When Katherine finally finished, she was reluctant to look in the
mirror. But with a little coaxing and some positive praise whispered in her
ear, she did open her eyes.

Her body became rigid as a board as she stared long and hard at the
creature staring back at her. Her smile was still wide and full around that
gag, but her eyes clouded over and a single tear ran down her right cheek.

Beth was looking up at the vaulted ceiling in the great room. Her head
moving from side to side in complete disbelief of that horrid memory. She
closed her eyes tightly as a word began echoing in her mind. That same word
that came to her when she first saw herself in that damn mirror, FREAK!

Katherine had indeed given her a Mohawk, but on her it made her look like
some stupid punk rocker. Her soft feminine features took second stage to
her ears, pale scalp and Fuller Brush type hair cut. But as much as she
despised it, that's how much Katherine loved it. And of course if Katherine
liked it, then she had to like it too, or at least pretend like she did.

More humiliating memories flooded her mind. How she was told by Katherine
to stand and display herself in the window for Paul's benefit, and all
those other anonymous voyeurs who also wanted a good look see. She
remembered fighting the urge to run away and cry her eyes out in her
bedroom. She had to follow through with this no matter how badly she felt.
Her future rested on her talents as an actress to continue to play this
difficult part to a successful outcome. Besides, Katherine would have been
very disappointed in her if she had failed. And considering all the time,
effort and how much of her own credibility was on the line now, that made
another strong reason for her to carry out this humiliating charade to the
end.

The only resource she had to fall back on was her mantra. 'I am Beth
Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a
better life and this too will soon be over.'

Even now, strapped to the pole, alone in the great room, waiting and
remembering, Beth's lips moved in silence with those same words. 'I am Beth
Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a
better life and this too will soon be over.'

Over and over again, she had repeated those words to herself while
Katherine told her to assume one pose after the other. Just like in
Katherine's office, at lunchtime, Beth moved like a puppet to Katherine's
verbal tug on her control strings. But this time Katherine took pictures of
her, lots of pictures of her Mohawk pet, in the most photogenic and
pornographic ways possible.

Beth felt like a doll in Katherine's hands. She smiled, pouted, danced and
held her pose on command. She remembered being ordered to fold her arms in
front of her and then sit on a table facing the window like an American
Indian. Her Mohawk hair cut, big bare breasts and wide shaven pussy in full
view for Paul and her loyal voyeur fan club to see and marvel at.

She remembered hearing the click, click, click of the camera shutter as
Katherine took picture after picture of her sexy poses. Poses with her
mouth open, eyes closed and her head tilted back in ecstasy. Poses with one
of her hands on her bald scalp while the other was busy playing with her
breasts, nipples and pussy. Each picture was a record of her supposedly
erotic gratification with what Katherine had done to her. She made herself
look like she enjoyed it, even when Katherine told her to get down on her
knees, bow her head and kiss her Mistress's shiny white shoes. Once more
the camera clicked away, recording another tender moment between Mistress
and slave.

It was all so obvious, even to the most causal observer, that the tears
flowing down her cheeks were tears of love and joy. Obvious to all except
Beth, who felt so incredible degraded by her public display of self-
debasement that the silent flowing tears were all she had to show to how
hurt she was with her outrageous disfigurement. Beth thought, in hindsight,
how funny it was that those tears could have two such different meanings.

What seemed like hours later, a smiling Katherine ordered her back into the
chair so she could finish what she had started. She obeyed her Mistress
promptly and took her place in the chair, her eyes going to that strange
image of herself in the mirror. A "self" that was slowly dissolving away
with each pass of the clippers.

Her NEW reflected image was burned deep into her mind. She looked so
different now, so cold, so sterile. Even her ever-present beautiful smile
looked so faked, just like the rest of her doll like features. Katherine
became so lost in her barber persona that she even shaved off Beth's
eyebrows as well. But the final act to Katherine's bizarre transformation
of Beth occurred when she rubbed a little oil into her bare scalp to give
it a nice shiny luster.

Amongst all Beth's nightmarish memories, there was only one good one that
stood out from all the bad. It happened right after Katherine kissed her on
top of her bald head. She then lowered her mouth and whispered in Beth's
right ear.

"I know this was very hard for you Beth and words can not begin to tell you
how proud I am of you. Your courage and tenacity to follow the plan and
your trust and loyalty in me is beyond reproach, boarding on inspirational.
I am so very lucky and grateful to have such an incredible and unique woman
like you going to California with me. I just wanted to say thank you Beth.
Thank you ever so much for being the woman that I know you could be." And
then Katherine kissed her on the cheek.

Beth's dark feelings just melted away. She quickly turned in her chair and
hugged Katherine for all she was worth.

Never, not even in her wildest dreams, had she hoped to receive such
glowing praise from Katherine. And to all who were observing them about
then, Katherine and Beth made one very strange lesbian couple. It seemed
like one of the women was showing a deep and touching appreciation for
being turned into some bald headed kinky sex doll by the other. But in
fact, at that very moment, objectification was the last thing that existed
between the two women.

Oh yes, Beth remembered the circumstances under which she lost her hair
that horrible night, and of the sharp contrast that existed between
Katherine and herself from that point on. Katherine was the warm erotic
seductress of both unique talents and tastes. And her, oh yes, HER! That
generic term suited Beth well now. HER, and DOLL, and SEX TOY! All those
words used to describe someone, no, some THING, of a nondescript nature.
Just like the term "generic female" did, which was how she was beginning to
see herself as.

Even though there was that one tender shared moment of warmth, love and
shared admiration, beth still had to look at herself in the mirror. And
with each time she looked, it was getting harder and harder for her to see
the "Beth" she once was. And what she did see, was someone who was quickly
approaching what she saw in that jail cell with Tonya, THING!

Oh yes, she will be happy when this bad dream of hers was all over with.
Then her new dream of being a corporate executive in sunny California with
Katherine could begin.

Beth tried to take a deep breath, but the straps that held her to the pole
were far to tight to allow anything but a shallow breath. Oh why didn't she
tell Tonya not to make them so tight!

Oh yes, Tonya! Another person she would be happy to see out of her life
along with Paul. Especially with what she did to her all this morning to
prepare her for her role as serving wench. Another role that Katherine told
her she had to play before tonight's bonding ceremony.

Beth wonder if her butt cheeks were still as red as they felt.

***************************************************************************

Part 9 - "Maid Madness" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 9)


                            "Maid Madness"


Oh yes, she will be glad to see Tonya out of her life. Her relationship
with Tonya was bittersweet and it frightened her more than it angered her.

In her two meetings with Tonya, Beth found herself in the inferior role and
totally at her mercy both physically and emotionally. The latter was what
scared her the most. Tonya's mastery of the art of seduction was
incredible. Even with her, an intelligent heterosexual woman, she was
amazed at how easy it was for her to be lured into Tonya's lesbian world.
Her soft feminine touch and tender sweet words, filled with alarming
insight into Beth's own dark yearning soul, made her feel like a spell was
cast upon her whenever she fell into the spider woman's web.

Her only salvation came in the form of a vision. An image so macabre in
nature that it always shocked her back into the real world. "Thing" saved
her. Each time she felt another soft silken thread binding her closer and
closer to Tonya's exciting embrace, all she had to do was to remember
Thing. Poor Thing, she was the last woman to be caught in the spider
woman's web and was now and forever changed into a silent surreal symbol of
Tonya's sexually depraved madness.

Still strapped tightly to the post, more memories began pouring into Beth's
mind. Nasty memories of her tour de jour as Tonya's apprenticed serving
wench. An unusual learning experience for Beth that started this very
morning just before Katherine went to work for the last time.

"Now pet, you know how important tonight is. This is where all our hard
work comes to fruition. We either win and find ourselves on our way to
sunny California with our new lives ahead of us or ... well, let's not
think about that. Keep thinking positively, follow Tonya's orders and, when
I get back, we will finally put an end to this offensive farce once and for
all! Trust in Tonya like you do in me B. You realize that if I didn't have
to make one final appearance at work, then I would be here with you,
training you for tonight's soiree, not Tonya. But the corporate world calls
and I must go. I have the greatest confidence in Tonya's abilities pet, so
be good and do what she says, It will all work out as I planned, you'll
see."

Beth looked at Katherine with frightened eyes, but somehow she found the
courage to once more submerge herself into her submissive role and say in a
calm voice, "As you wish Mistress. B will do whatever Tonya says and please
hurry back Mistress, PLEASE?" She could not help the inflection in her
voice as she pleaded with her mistress not to leave her alone with Tonya
for very long.

"I will pet. I will."

The two hugged passionately, Katherine dressed in her executive power suit
ready for a full day at the office and Beth completely naked without a
single hair left on her body.

When their embrace broke, Katherine took Beth's face in her hands and
kissed her on the lips. In the beginning, Beth felt such a woman to woman
kiss was very repugnant. But now, she wished it would never end. Her lips
parted and eagerly accepted Katherine's probing tongue into her mouth.

Tonya was looking on from a short distance away. Her hand caressing the
side of Thing's face as Thing knelt submissively by her side just like she
had back in that jail cell.

Katherine slowly pushed Beth away and gently stroked her bald head and
tear-streaked cheek, then, without saying another word, she turned and
left. Beth quickly walked up to the closing door and looked through the
peephole trying to catch a final glimpse of her departing friend.

Tonya smiled at the thought of how cute Beth looked. She was acting so much
like a devoted house pet watching her Mistress leave and craving to be by
her side, not unlike her own loving Thing by hers. But time was not an
asset they could afford to waste on sentimental moments like this. So she
patted Thing on the head and walked up behind Beth. She put her hands on
Beth's shoulders and began massaging them.

Beth continued to look through the peephole as if trying to ignore Tonya,
but when Tonya hands flowed down and around her body she could no longer
disregard what her body was telling her. So she closed her eyes and
pretended it was Katherine who was caressing her so affectionately.

Tonya put her chin on Beth's shoulder and then let her cheek snuggled up to
Beth's face. Her fingers began rubbing Beth's nipples between them and
sometimes adding a playful little pinch in the process.

Beth seemed lost in the moment, not caring at all that it was another woman
fondling her so. She even let out a little moan when Tonya's physical
interest became more intimate as Tonya's lesbian artistry meandered down
between Beth's legs and to her shaven pussy.

Tonya whispered into Beth's ear, "Oh sweet thing, I wish I could play with
you like this all day long. But we need to put our energy into another area
now, your training." She then abruptly stopped her caresses as Beth's
aroused body demanded more.

She was such a tease, that Tonya. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Getting Beth all hot and excited like that, taking her well up the
spiraling staircase to orgasm and then stopping when she was so near to
fulfilling her aching desire. But that was Tonya's way. To tease, to taunt,
to make one ache for more and then to deny them satisfaction. It was just
her devilish way of playing with her prey, nothing more, nothing less.

She put her hands on Beth's shoulders and gently turned her around until
she was facing her. Her hands began stroking and rubbing Beth's bald head
in a very sensuous way. Her ebony hands and blood red nails were a dramatic
contrast to Beth's pale barren scalp. And now it was Tonya who began making
little quivering moans of pleasure.

"My goodness B, I find your new look to be one incredible turn on! But
alas, time waits for no one."

Tonya moved closer to Beth. Their eyes riveted on one another. Tonya's gaze
was soft, warm, and laden with erotic desire, and Beth's was wide-eyed and
full of an aroused need mixed with building fear. Beth just knew Tonya was
going to kiss her. But all of a sudden, Tony stopped a few inches from her
lips. Then she heard Tonya say, "Kiss me B."

Beth's eyes blinked in surprise at what she heard. Never had she been the
one to initiate a kiss with a woman. All the other times, with Katherine or
even with Tonya, "they" were the ones who kissed her. She would just
continue to play the passive submissive role and let it happen. But this
time, she was the one asked to take the initiative. Even though she was
"told" to do so by Tonya, she still felt like it was her choice, not her
duty, to kiss another woman. A choice that somehow made her feel more
accepting of her role as a lesbian, deep down inside of her.

So she kissed Tonya. First letting their lips lightly touch one another.
Then Beth became more forceful, more vigorous, more pleasure seeking. She
found herself liking it, the sensuous feel of another woman's lips upon her
own. Again, she initialed another move with her tongue, slowing letting it
pass through Tonya's lips. Then she felt a chill radiate through her when
Tonya's full voluptuous lips began massaging her tongue as she thrust it in
and out of her mouth repeatedly. And when their tongue dance became even
more earnest, it was Beth who took the lead.

Just when Beth was losing herself in her first true consenting lesbian
tryst, Tonya broke the kiss. She then began to stroke the side of Beth's
bewildered face and told her it was time to begin. Again, Tonya had played
the dominant sexual tease to perfection.

She directed Beth to follow her, and as they passed the kneeling Thing
Tonya said, "Thing, follow."

Beth did not dare look back. Her interest in Thing made her skin crawl.
This was the second time she had met Thing, and Beth was finding herself
becoming more like her than she care to admit. So she refused to turn
around and watch Thing maneuver in her highly restrained and bizarre form.
But Beth could still hear Thing. First the clinking of metal and then the
rapid clicking of Thing's ballerina like shoes on the hard floor behind
her. That insidious sound that sent a cold shiver up her spine.

When they reached the great room, Tonya said, "B, stay. Thing, over to your
perch."

'Perch?' Beth thought to herself as she remained fixed on the spot that
Tonya had commanded her to. She watched in awe as Tonya lead Thing over to
a very strange looking ornate metal stand. Beth's curiosity got the better
of her as she shifted her interest from Thing's unnerving appearance to
what Tonya called "The Perch".

The stand was made completely from antique grayish metal and stood only a
few feet tall. The base was a slightly elevated heavy rectangular box and
from its center rose a substantially sized pipe. Mounted on the top was
what looked like a crescent shaped saddle with its two ends coiled around
themselves in an kind of artistic spiral. The entire stand was decorated
with fancy carvings and detailed reliefs of leaves, vines and small birds.

Thing stood in front of it, waiting. Her exotic stance with eyes looking
down was an eerie complement to her flawless black skin on top of her many
enhanced physical attributes, as well as her many polished gold jewelry.

Tonya was busy doing something to the stand, and her body was blocking
Beth's view. When she did finish, Tonya then walked off to the side.
That's when Beth's mouth dropped wide open and her eyes almost bugged right
out of her head.

Tonya had mounted two dildos, two life-like black phalluses, to the bottom
"U" part of the saddle. The back one was slightly smaller in girth and
length than the front one, but both still had a monstrous look about them.
Beth watched in spell bound fascination as Tonya applied some sort of clear
lubricant over just the one in back.

After wiping her hands clean, Tonya placed her foot on a small pedal hidden
in the base of the stand and pushed it down. The saddle began to descend,
and when it was only about knee high it stopped. Without saying a word,
Tonya stood patiently by as Thing began to move herself over the stand.
Beth was amazed at how mechanically Thing seemed to respond, with no
display of emotion or even a moment of hesitation, as she slowly straddled
her legs over the encumbered saddle.

Tonya moved around in front to face Thing and to push down on another pedal
in the base. The saddle, with its ominously protruding dildos, began to
rise. Thing still stood her ground, silent and motionless. Her feet en
pointe, legs straight and spread wide, and her torso and head held erect
and proud. The only movement Beth could detect was from Thing's hands. With
her wrists manacled firmly to her tightly cinched waist belt, all that
Thing could do was to move her fingers. Beth could see how they moved ever
so slowly over her hairless pubic area in a kind of rubbing motion. She
thought that it was an unconscious act of anxiety on Thing's part. But
whether it was favorable or not, Beth could not tell.

Beth continued to look on, curious but repulsed, as Tonya kept a careful
eye on the slowly rising probes. When the head of the dildos just touched
Thing's most tender flesh, Tonya stopped the saddle rising. She then began
touching and spreading Thing's butt cheeks and tattooed red pussy lips to
check the alignment of the probes. When all looked satisfactory, Tonya
eased her foot back down upon the pedal and the probes slowly rose up and
into Thing.

Beth let out with a gasp that caused Tonya to stop quickly. She look over
behind her and saw Beth with her mouth covered by her hands and eyes wide
open in a state of fearful surprise. Tonya then looked in the same
direction that Beth was staring at and then smiled when she saw the reason
for Beth's concern.

She looked back over to Beth with a warm smile and said, "Oh sweet B, you
need not concern yourself over Thing's possible discomfort. She has been
trained to immediately lubricate her pussy upon anticipation of being
mounted on her perch. That is why I only lubricated her anal dildo."

She gave Beth one last affectionate smile and turned her attention back to
impaling her Thing.

Slowly the probes moved up and into Thing. Thing just stood there, her legs
spread wide on either side and making only the faintest of twisting
movements to help guide the synthetic cocks deep inside her receptive
holes. When the dildos completely disappeared and the saddle began to form
itself between her legs, Thing began to move her legs together. But Tonya
kept her foot on the pedal as the saddle continued to rise. When Things
legs were only a couple of inches away from the center pipe a sharp metal
snap was heard.

Beth looked at the base of the stand, where the noise came from, and to her
amazement she saw a pair of manacles had automatically attached themselves
just above Thing's ankles. She also saw that Tonya continued to keep the
stand moving upward even though Thing's legs were firmly anchored to it's
base. Beth became even more concerned for Thing's safety as she watched the
saddle, and it's hidden probes, forced deeper and deeper into Thing's
sensitive crotch. When it looked like Thing's legs were as taunt as a
bowstring Tonya released the pedal.

'Oh my God!' Beth said under her breath as she stared on in horror, mixed
with just a touch of unexplainable arousal.

Tonya stepped back and eyed her properly mounted Thing with a look that was
pure haunting evil. She causally walked around her perched Thing, touching
her, stroking her, caressing her. She seemed to linger over those fleshy
feminine areas that the saddle made bulge into prominence. Finally, she
took Thing's black face in her hands and kissed her most affectionately. A
tender loving act that reminded Beth of Katherine.

Tonya let go of Thing's face and pushed a small concealed button on the
saddle. A low, almost inaudible, hum started, and for the very first time
Beth heard Thing vocalize a soft, self-indulgent moan.

With Thing securely tucked away on her perch, it was now Beth's turn. She
watched as Tonya began taking some black items from a nearby box. For some
reason now, Beth looked upon Tonya not with fear, but with a kind of serene
warmth. She could not understand why she had this feeling, especially with
regards to what she just seen happen to Thing. But never-the-less, she
began to see her in a positive light and searched her mind for the reason
why.

There was nothing strange in Tonya's manner of dress to warrant such a
feeling in Beth. In fact, she looked quite stylishly causal. Her long black
hair was pulled back into a ponytail that complimented her strikingly bold
yet attractive features. She wore a billowy, long sleeved, blood red silk
blouse and a pair of loose fitting designer gray slacks. Her mid-section
was pulled in by a wide dark belt with a polished gold buckle. And on her
feet was a pair of tastefully matching gray pumps.

Tonya began walking towards Beth and when Beth saw what she had in her
hands Beth quickly lost any favorable feelings she had for the spider
woman.

"These are only part of your uniform B. The rest will come later just
before the party. No point risking getting them soiled or damaged while you
are in your training period. Besides, you are going to need the extra time
to get use to wearing these."

Beth's spirit sank when she saw and heard what Tonya had for her. The first
article was a black corset contoured to match her figure with a slightly
wider panel in the front than on the back or sides. And from the look of
it, it seemed very stiff and unforgiving.

Tonya wrapped it around Beth's middle and fastened the hasps in front. She
then began the tedious process of lacing it close. Beth had already become
accustomed to wearing a corset for Katherine. So when Tonya was finished
lacing her into this waist cinch, what she felt was nothing new to her. All
be it, it was a little more constricting than usual.

"There you go sweetie. That should hold you, for now. As your serving wench
training progresses, I will take the time to tighten your laces. You have a
gap of some two to three inches that needs to be closed before the party
begins. But don't worry your pretty little head about that. You will be so
busy learning your new occupation that you will hardly know it's
happening."

Beth took a shallow breath and sighed. With three more inches to go she
wondered if she would be able to breathe let alone function at the party.

Tonya motioned for her to sit down as she picked up one of the shoes
Beth was to wear. Beth's waist cinch was cutting so deeply into her that
she was forced to maintain a straight-up sitting position. She knew once
Tonya was finished lacing it closed, she would be totally unable to sit
down again.

As Beth watched Tonya fit her feet inside the new shoes her concern about
her corset shifted to her feet.

The shoes were not your average woman's fashionable high-heeled footwear.
Oh they had style with their shiny patent leather and high, very high,
heels, more so now than what she wore Katherine's prescribed office five
inch ones. But they also looked to be more of a custom made item. For both
shoes were really a pair of boots that laced up the front to a couple of
inches above her ankles. They were also trimmed with white ruffled lace
around the tops. Overall, they looked very torturous to walk in while at
the same time they had an attractive dainty feminine element about them.

It took Tonya several minutes to fit and lace Beth's feet into the boots.
And when she was finished, Beth felt her feet begin to go numb just from
being so tightly encased in the foot stretching stilettos.

"Now let's see you walk in your new shoes B. Just remember, take small
confident steps and you'll be all right."

Beth looked like a beginner in a circus high wire act. She had to use the
chair as a crutch to get herself up and balanced on her heels. Her steps
after that were very small indeed as her arms were waving about like flags
on a windy day. She kept her head bent forward as her eyes focused on her
feet and the tiny steps they were taking. It took her all of ten minutes to
go a few feet, turn around and walk back again. When she did reach the
chair, she quickly grasped the chair's back with both hands while she tried
to remain balanced on her new shoes.

Beth smiled at Tonya. She was very proud of herself. The boots didn't seem
to hurt her feet as much as she thought they would. The tight leather was
molded to her entire foot so her body weight was distribute to her whole
foot rather than just to her toes like her slut shoes did. And the numbness
seemed to dwindle away as she exercised her feet walking in them.

Tonya returned Beth's smile, but hers lacked the exuberance that Beth's
had. In fact, it was more of a token gesture than an outright sign of
support for a job well done.

Tonya stepped up to Beth and held her affectionately around her nipped in
waist. She looked into Beth's bewildered eyes as she gently twisted Beth
from left to right.

"B, you know time is our enemy. We have a lot of work to do in what little
time we have left. But I know, together, we can do this. YOU can do this B.
I know it for a fact! But I need to train you as quickly as possible. Under
normal conditions, I would be very supportive and provide a lot of positive
reinforcement for you. But these are trying times and I must get you to a
functioning level in only a few short hours.

Now, the only way that can happen is if I push you B. Push you, order you,
force you, and if need be, punish you to get the necessary results that
you, Katherine and I need to get. You must understand this B and accept
what I need to do to get you there. You must not fight me B or try to get
me to ease up on you. That will only delay your training and may even put
the plan in jeopardy. I am an expert at this B and I know what you can bear
better than you do. All I need from you is to follow my orders, quickly,
and without question. If you do, I promise you success!

Can you do this B? Can you really be the well trained slave that you
pretend to be and follow my lead like you do for Katherine? Can you B?"

Tonya inched her face closer to Beth's as her hand tenderly stroked the
side of her face.

Beth was in awe after Tonya's little speech. It reminded her so much of
Katherine and how she talked to her when things were about to get worse for
her. Beth thought how similar and yet how different these two women were,
almost as if... but her mind quickly turned to the choice at hand. Again,
what choice did she have? To much time and effort had gone into this
endeavor already, on Katherine and Tonya's part as well as her own. To stop
now or to cause anything to happen that might cause a failure later would
be too much to bear. Beth had to do what was expected of her. She had to
let Tonya do what was necessary even if she thought or believed otherwise.
She really had no choice. So in a quivering voice she answered back, "Ye...
Yes, Ton... I mean... Mistress Tonya, slave B will do whatever needs to be
done. Whatever you decide, or choose to do, I will obey."

"Oh your such a good sweet thing B. If Katherine were only here she would
be so proud of her devoted slave girl right now."

Tonya then kissed Beth quickly on the lips.

Beth did not like the way Tonya referred to her as Katherine's devoted
slave as if she really was. But then again, she thought it was just Tonya's
way of immersing herself in her training role just like she had to do for
her slave persona.

"Good! Now turn around with your back facing me."

Beth was about to ask why, but she remembered what she just agreed to and
slowly minced around.

"Now, first item. Empty your head of all thoughts except one, to follow
orders. It will go much better if you see yourself as an empty vessel ready
to do what I tell you to do. Do you understand me slave?"

"Yes Mistress Tonya."

Beth felt her arms being pulled back and a leather strap wrapped around
them just above the elbows.

"Second item. A proper serving wench walks with confidence in who and what
she is. Be proud of being an owned piece of property, of being seen naked,
submissive and as a simple sex object. This means you stand tall and walk
with your shoulders back, chest out and eyes cast down. Remember, above all
else, to keep your eyes looking down. Never, I mean NEVER, look at another
person in the eye. Understand slave?"

Beth heard the words and it pained her to say yes to them, even more so
than the physical pain of having her elbows pulled tightly together behind
her back.

"Good! Now that you know it, it's time you showed it. The elbow strap is
just temporary. The sooner you adopt the proper proud servile posture of a
slave, the sooner I will remove the restraint. Let's start off with your
feet further apart. That's it! This will allow you to balance yourself
better in the beginning. As you gain more confidence in your ability to
move around in your new heels, then you will move your legs closer
together. Remember to keep your head up, torso erect, and eyes down. Good!
Now begin your walk."

"But I might fal... ... AHHH!!!!"

Beth was just about to comment on something when she felt a hard sting on
the fleshy part of her butt.

"I told you to obey me SLAVE! Slaves do what they are told. They are empty
mindless vessels. They do not think. They do not ask questions. They have
no wants, needs or desires other than what their owners tell them they
have. And right now slave, you have nothing in that empty bald head of
yours other than the words 'Yes or No Mistress Tonya'. Do you understand me
slave?"

"Yes Mistress Tonya!"

Beth answered quickly in fear of another smack from Tonya's riding crop on
her hurting rear end. Then she began walking the best she could in those
towering heels while her upper arms were painfully fettered behind her. Her
lower arms and hands were sticking out and fluttering around like a chicken
in order to keep her balance.



"I said head up slave. And keep your arms still!"

"Yes Mistress Tonya"



"Eyes DOWN!"

"Yes Mistress Tonya"



"Did I tell you to rub your butt slave?"

"No Mistress Tonya"

"Your butt is a site for punishment. Punishment is negative reinforcement
for wrong behavior. It is also a means of disciplining you so you can focus
your efforts to perform correctly. You will never cover your butt to
prevent me from disciplining you slave and you will never attempt to rub
the pain away either. The pain is there to remind you to act correctly.
Thus you should accept your pain and your punishment with joy for they are
making you into a better slave. Do you understand me slave?"

"Yes Mistress Tonya"

Beth eyes began to glisten with tears caused not so much from the physical
agony of being whipped, but from the shame and self loathing she felt in
having to agree with Tonya. And in accepting this humiliating treatment as
a positive learning experience in becoming a better slave.

"That's it slave! Keep walking. Push your chest out. You have wonderful
breasts. Be proud to show then off in their complete nudity if that is what
your Mistress desires. Keep your head up, eyes down, and SMILE! You are a
serving wench and no one likes to see a slave serving drinks at a party
with a sad face. So smile!"



"A bigger smile!"

"Yes Mistress Tonya"

Beth produced the biggest smile she could while trying to master her new
shoes, her new posture and her new status as a complete non-human entity,
the perfect obedient slave.

And so it went on for the rest of the morning. Tonya kept flip flopping
from a warm caring seductress to a sharp no nonsense drill sergeant. A
first rate trainer who wasn't shy in the least in chastising her chattel
with a riding crop for any minute act of non-conformity. And Beth, she was
adapting to her accelerated, deepening, slave role as best she could. Her
bright red butt was a silent testament to her success.

Tonya had scheduled Beth's training into many short intense sessions of no
more than twenty minutes, followed by a ten minute break. Beth was allowed
to rest during this time and to sip some cool water provided by Tonya. But
she had to do it while remaining in her slave role, which meant an erect
proud posture, eyes cast down and never speaking unless spoken too first.

About mid morning Tonya removed the elbow restraint. Beth was desperately
in need of a rubbing and a massaging of her aching arms, but she remembered
what Tonya said about a slave being an empty vessel. So she just let them
hang down at her sides, throbbing. A minute later Tonya said it was all
right for her to rub her arms, and Beth did. Tonya also said that she
should thank her for being allowed that favor, and again Beth did. Beth had
just doubled her entire vocabulary from "Yes" and "No Mistress Tonya" to
"Thank you Mistress Tonya" in only a few short minutes.

It was late morning when a serving tray and some drinks were added to
Beth's training regimen. And when lunchtime came, Tonya had Beth walking
about in her new heels like she was born with them on. She even had Beth
maintaining her proud confident slave posture like it was second nature to
her. And Tonya never caught Beth with her eyes turned in any direction but
down again.

The two then took a quiet half hour for lunch. Since Tonya was only able to
reduce the gap in Beth's corset to about half of what it was, Beth was only
allowed a small cup of broth to drink. Anything more substantial, like the
sandwich Tonya had, was completely out of the question.

After lunch, Tonya continued with Beth's training by emphasizing what she
learned so far and then adding new material. Part of the new training
entailed making Beth move more seductively. Tonya had her walk so her hips
would roll and sway from side to side like a Saturday night hooker. She
forced Beth to move her shoulders in sync with her gyrating hips while
holding her serving tray level and still. This caused her breasts to quiver
and gently move from side to side when she walked adding immensely to her
slut appeal.

A large part of her added training was based on communication. There were
going to be a good number of people she knew at the party besides her
villainous boyfriend Paul. They would no doubt want to talk with Beth about
her drastic change in character. So the content of what Beth was going to
say to them would be extremely important.

Tonya gave Beth an opening greeting and other useful phrases to get her
through those critical moments. All worded in such a way as to convince
Paul, and everyone else, that she was truly the devoted lesbian bimbo sex
slave of Mistress Katherine that she appeared to be.

Just like in the morning session, Tonya faithfully did her part to help
Beth learn each and every line quickly. A learning curve made more steep
through the use of her ever present riding crop.

By mid afternoon, Beth was a fully accomplished serving wench, of the
lesbian bimbo slave girl persuasion. Her serving form was flawless. Her
sluttish, mincing about gait was blatantly sexual. And her learned phases
were presented without hesitation, regret or shame. Those emotions Beth
kept well hidden deep inside of her.

To top it all off, Tonya was able to close the gap on Beth's corset. An act
that forced Beth to breathe shallowly from the upper part of her chest,
which was the cherry on top of her bimbo breast jiggling cake.

There was one more training element that Tonya decided to throw in just in
case. Given Katherine's commanding presents at the party, it would
therefore be highly unlikely for such an event to occur. But still, better
to err on the side of safety than to risk being unprepared and letting the
house of cards collapse around them. So Tonya decided to train Beth in what
her response would be if some party attendee were to touch her.

When Tonya told Beth of this addition to her training, she remained
unmoved. That is after Tonya used the crop on her rosy butt again when
Beth's startled eyes rose up and met hers. Beth was horrified to hear that
there was a good possibility that she might be physically played with at
the party.

So Tonya played the devils advocate and began playing touchy feely with
Beth. And Beth responded according to Tonya's verbal directions, and
further use of the crop when she hesitated a bit too long in her dictated
response.

According to Tonya, Beth was to respond as such;

    - If someone was to poke, pinch or smack her on her butt, like Tonya
      continued to do, she was to respond with "Thank you Mistress or
      Master" which ever the case might be.

    - If someone, like Tonya was joyfully doing, wanted to caress her
      breasts or rub their hands tenderly along the inside of Beth's thigh
      like so, then she was to stand her ground and allow them to do just
      that. She was also expected to add a little moan of pleasure in
      appreciation of being toyed with in such an arousing manner, even
      though she was on the verge of being humiliated to tears at the same
      time.

So the rest of Beth's training period was nothing but play time for Tonya.
Time and time again, Tonya played the part of a different party member
eager to engage in some sensuous contact with their willing serving sex
toy. And poor Beth, with her serving tray in both hands and eyes cast down,
was only allowed to respond like an animal in heat as she moaned, grunted,
groaned and purred with cardinal delight, as her tortured soul slowly
drowned in a lake of sorrow.

"Oh yes, I would definitely love to see Tonya out of my life forever", Beth
said to herself still strapped immobile to the pole.

But in saying that, Beth felt a small sense of gratitude for all that Tonya
did for her, be it as painful and humiliating as it was. For the training
she did receive at Tonya's sexually probing and disciplined hands was just
what she needed to successfully play her role as a sexy serving wench at
the party. Especially where the last part was concerned.

Once again, Beth felt her relationship with Tonya was a bittersweet one,
and one that she would quickly let dissolve into obscurity once she was
safe and sound in California.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 10 - "A Party to Perplex Paul" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 10)


                       "A Party to Perplex Paul"


Beth could hear Katherine in the other room preparing the few selected
guests for the bonding ceremony to begin. She could feel the anxiety
building up inside of her, and she was ready. Just this one final event to
go and it would all be over with, forever! The proverbial last straw to
break Paul's infatuated back, and she knew it would, especially after
performing her duty as a Tonya's trained serving wench.

She chuckled to herself when she remembered the look on Paul's face. The
look of total confusion and revulsion when he saw her serving drinks. He
already knew about her bald head because he had watched every humiliating
second of it through that big picture window last night. Katherine even
sent him the photos of the event via express mail. But seeing her up close
and in person, wearing that serving wench uniform and playing her role as
lesbian bimbo sex slave to perfection, it literally made him dumbfounded
with abject horror and sickened with nausea.

Katherine said it would break the love spell Paul had on her, and he was
almost there. Just as Beth was almost there in sunny California. The land
where freedom and her new executive position lay waiting. This alone made
Beth lick her lips with sweet delight.

But playing the serving wench also left her with a bitter after taste as
well. That's when Beth's smile turned into a grimace as she shut her eyes
tightly trying not to remember the rest of those tormented times. But alas,
her mind's eye showed her in shocking clarity the humiliating highlights
that made her stomach turn and, for some reason, made her pussy moist.

Shortly after Tonya had finished turning Beth into a first class serving
wench, she told Beth it was time for her to don the rest of her uniform.
Beth remembered how happy she was in being allowed to wear something that
was more substantial than the agonizing wasp corset and the towering
footwear. Clothing, even in the form of a decadent maid's uniform, would be
a welcomed consolation if it would only cover her obscenely pumped up chest
and brightly red derriere, just a little.

At first, Beth thought Tonya was putting the black latex maid's dress on
backwards. But Tonya continued to twist and tug it into position until she
was happy with it's fit. Then she added the token white lace cap, apron and
wrist length gloves to complete the ensemble. A quick touch up of her
makeup, and Beth was declared finished and ready for duty. Tonya then left
her to go and prepare herself for the party.

Beth began bumping her head against the pole while saying in a hushed
voice, "Why do I keep remembering these obscene vulgar images of myself?"

She soon stopped her head banging, opened her eyes and stared out into
space. She tried to focus on something in the room, but her mind's eye
continued to show her only one image.

Oh why did she look into that mirror after Tonya went away? She should have
known by now that every time she thought things were about to get better,
they only turned out worse. She thought the uniform would be better for
her, but the memory of her reflected image paid little resemblance to the
beautiful business woman she once was.

That black latex dress, the one she thought Tonya was putting on backwards,
was in fact put on correctly. But like those damn custom stiletto shoes, it
was made for a particular kinky voyeur's interest.

It fit around her torso very tightly, with a high neck and short puffy
sleeves. It was trimmed out in very pretty white ruffled lace, just like
her shoes were. The dress had a large oval cut out in the front for both of
her corset enhanced breasts to fit through. Her breasts were thus laid bare
and in full panoramic view for all to see and admire. The black shiny latex
pushed them up and out while the soft white ruffles around the opening
framed them like an exciting erotic picture. Instead of covering her female
nakedness, the dress put them on display like a hooker in one of those
seedy twenty five cent peep shows.

The skirt part was open in the front, and back, like a pair of pulled back
window drapes. The manner in which her skirt exhibited her bare pussy and
red butt was as if they had a classic regal significance to them. A look
that ran counter to the "in your face" pornographic spectacle that Beth
felt they had. Even the apron, more symbolic than functional, was only long
enough to reach her pubic area, leaving her badge of female sexuality in
full, unobstructed, view.

The final shocking component of Tonya's conception of what a proper serving
wench looked like was her makeup, or the lack there of. The only cosmetic
Tonya had used on Beth was a brightly colored red lipstick and a touch of
lip-gloss. Her lips were carefully painted to make them look twice their
normal size. The red puckered lips seemed to dominate her entire face,
especially without any hair on her head and no eyebrows. Tonya put on a
little lipstick to redden her nipples, and her pussy lips as well. On the
latter, she dabbed a little lip-gloss making Beth look as if she was in a
constant heightened state of oozing sexual arousal.

Beth remembered stepping back from the mirror to take in her whole bizarre
image. She began wondering why Tonya made her up to look like that. Her
face appeared to be nothing more than two big pouting red lips on a flesh
colored background topped by a glued on little maid's cap with two ribbons
hanging down in back of her bald head. Even her beautiful brown eyes played
only a cameo role compared to her outlandish, gaudy red lips.

When she looked at her torso it seemed like the dress was there as an
accent, a mere accessory, to enhance and spotlight her nakedness instead of
covering it. Even her shiny black heels from hell made her bare legs seem
longer and incredibly shapelier than they were. She remembered just
standing there, looking at herself and thinking.

Beth began moving her head from side to side against the wooden pole in an
exaggerated rebellious NO! She knew the reason why she was made to look
that way. It all seemed to fall into place now. It was madness! But madness
with a method behind it. A method that she willingly played part in, and in
so doing, felt herself slipping into that same madness that Tonya was
caught in when she created Thing. But in Beth's case, she still had hope.
Hope, that was a hair's breadth away in the next room just beyond this
macabre nightmare and in the form of Katherine.

She hated having to play this part in Katherine's plan. The plan that was
bringing fantasy closer to reality with each passing moment, and a reality
that was staring right back at her in her own unshakable memory.

The reflection was no longer her, Beth. Beth, the independent, cognitive
and beautiful heterosexual woman had ceased to be. Just as Cynthia ceased
to be when she became "Thing". And like "Thing", Beth too had become an
object, a symbol, a metaphor for Tonya's insatiable wet dreams.

The customized maid's uniform was a symbol of her kinky erotic servitude,
and by wearing it, Beth made it clear to everyone at the party that she was
Katherine's sex slave. The flaunting display of her lips, breasts, pussy
and rear end were all metaphors of her status as a sexually obsessed bimbo
who was in constant need of wanton attention.

Her former identity as Beth was now gone, all gone, and in its place was
this generic bimbo sex slave. A mer piece of owned property belonging to
Ms. Katherine Sloan. Beth had become the antithesis to what she
passionately dreamed of becoming all of her life, a successful loving woman
of quality with beauty and grace. And as a result, her soul cried tears for
the loss.

Beth stopped shaking her head and then opened her misty eyes looking in the
direction where Thing was perched. She could no longer see Thing for one of
those panel screens had been placed around her. Tonya thought it would be
better to hide Thing during the bonding ceremony. After all, it was
Katherine and B's big moment, and no one wanted to risk compromising the
plan now. But Beth looked over to that corner of the room and thought to
herself, 'if not for the grace of Katherine, there would go I.'

She trusted Katherine, her business mentor and very dear friend. Beth had
pledged herself to Katherine to become the very best and most loyal
corporate executive humanly possible when they reached California. In part,
in deep appreciation for getting Paul out of her life, but largely for not
letting this nightmare become a lifelong reality like Thing's did.

Beth tried to take a deep breath but the straps held their grip on her. Her
mind slowly drifted back to the party and her duties as a serving wench.
Thank goodness that part of the nightmare was over with. Now all she had
left were these ugly memories to get rid of, and those she would forget
soon enough if her mind would only let her.

She remembered the guests were really only a few in number, mostly from
work, former friends and bosses. Former, because when the plan went into
effect, and her role as Katherine's lesbian girl Friday came into being,
her friends had deserted her like rats from a sinking ship. Thankfully she
would never see them again after tonight. But she still felt a residue of
self-loathing having to serve them drinks in the way that she was dressed
and trained to do. Many times, when her back was turned, she could hear a
faint giggle or a repressed laugh from those same members of her former
peer group. But thanks to Katherine's high position, they were still too
afraid of getting carried away.

It was strange in a way. At first, her fellow work mates were shocked into
silence with her exotic appearance, just like she was when she first saw
Thing. But when Beth replayed the speech that Tonya made her memorize, they
seemed to lose their initial shock and concern for her welfare. They
thought it was particularly funny when she referred to herself in the third
person as the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine.

Most of the guests maintained their conversations between themselves, to
which the topic of their discussion was centered around Beth and Katherine.
But once in a while, a few brave souls would ask her a question or two. The
women were concerned with her being coerced or blackmailed into her present
role when they asked her, "Beth, are you being forced into doing this?"

To which she would shake her head so vigorously NO that the two ends of the
ribbon that extended down from her lacy maid cap would fly wildly around
her bald head. Then, while keeping her eyes cast down, she would respond
with her carefully scripted answer.

"Oh No Mistress! B, the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine, is
doing this because she REALLY wants too. Lesbian B loves having sex with
women. Bimbo B adores dressing up like a gaudy street whore in heat and
showing off her big tits, tiny waist and always wet pussy to everyone
around her. And slave B feels so relieved that her life is so much simpler
now. B only does what Mistress Katherine tells B to do and B loves every
moment of it. And so does Mistress Katherine!"

The guys on the other hand saw her as pure eye candy. They joked around
amongst themselves wondering if there was a chance for them to sample any
of her tempting displayed attributes. Beth felt angered by their drooling
leers and belief that she was nothing but a slut who would suck and fuck
anyone at the snap of a finger. But Beth always maintained her smiling
domesticated air even when one guy, who was too drunk to know better, asked
her to go into a vacant room with him.

To that arrogant man, Beth simply replied that her mind, body and soul were
all devoted to Mistress Katherine. Thus, he needed to ask permission from
Mistress Katherine first for her to do so. Just like Tonya had taught her
to say under such circumstances. Of course no guy would ever think of
asking for permission to have sex with a woman that belonged to such a
powerful corporate executive like Ms. Sloan. So Beth was safe in that area.

The really hard part occurred after she finished serving her former work
friends. She would perform her choreograph little curtsy, turn slowly
around and then walk away. It was when she walk away that she could always
hear the snickers, giggles and sometimes outright laughter that was a
result of her strutting bimbo walk with her plump red butt wagging behind
her. The anguish she felt from this was very hard on Beth. These were the
people who once respected her, for her effective business talents and as a
woman of character and beauty. But now, all they saw was nothing more than
a simple servile sex object to make fun of or to lust over.

But Beth's torment was not limited to people she knew from work. Two of the
guests were the lady cops that had arrested her as a prostitute, Erica and
Mary.

At first she didn't recognize them. Both of them, as well as everyone else
at the party, looked positively radiant. The women were the epitome of
beauty and elegance while the men distinguished and gentile. All were in
sharp contrast to Beth's conspicuously sleazy self. But Beth was determined
to see the plan through come hell or high water. Thus, she approached the
two policewomen as she was trained to; smiling, eyes down, head up,
shoulders back, chest out and hips rolling like she was parading her
herself for a quick sale. She curtsied in front of the two well dressed
women and began her mindless, robot-like welcoming speech that Tonya had
chastised into her.

"Welcome to Mistress Katherine's home Mistress Erica and Mistress Mary. My
name is B and I am the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine.
Mistress Katherine would like to thank you for coming to the party and the
bonding ceremony this evening. Mistress Katherine would also like to offer
you one of these delicious and refreshing drinks here on the tray. But if
you would like something else to drink, B would be very happy to get it for
you."

Beth then stood as still as a statue waiting for the policewoman to act,
fearing and dreading what they might do to her now.

The two women smiled to themselves and then began to walk around Beth as
though she was there for their inspection.

"Well Mrs. E, I do believe I have never seen the likes of such a THING as
this in all my days on earth."

"Yes, I do agree Mrs. M. IT sure is something else, the likes of which I
have never seen before either. Umm, Mrs. M, do you think IT is alive?"

"Oh mercy me Mrs. E. I do not see how IT could be. I mean, what woman in
her right mind would ever want to look like this . . . THING?"

"Ahhhh, I see what you mean Mrs. M. IT is very vulgar in appearance isn't
it."

"Down right disgusting to any woman of quality and dignity like us Mrs. E."

"Well put Mrs. M! IT must be some kind of high tech adult sex toy then.
Something along the lines of one of those blow up sex dolls no doubt. Only
much more lifelike and extremely technical."

"You may have a point there Mrs. E. IT does seem to have a certain Je ne
sais pas about it. But then again, IT still has a long way to go to even
remotely be considered as a real human being."

"Oh I agree 100% Mrs. M. This THING must be a simple prototype. I mean, for
goodness sakes, IT doesn't even have any hair on IT's head."

Both women started to laugh and point at the head of Beth as they both
reached for a drink from the tray.

"But you know something Mrs. M. This THING does seem to remind me of
someone, but I just cannot remember who. Do you have any ideas Mrs. M?"

Mary stepped really close to Beth and eyed her like a criminal in a lineup,
except this eyewitness maintained a grin from ear to ear.

"Yes, I do remember someone with these limited identifiable facial
features. But it is so difficult though, what with IT being so utterly void
of any unique human characteristic at all Mrs. E."

"Oh dear me yes Mrs. M. But if IT is suppose to be a sex doll, then
everyone knows the only thing important on a sex doll are IT's naughty
bits. Right Mrs. M?"

"Oh definitely so Mrs. E! I couldn't agree with you more. And this THING is
testimony to that fact completely! Her mouth and lips are so big and full
I bet they could suck an elephant through a fire hose. And look at those
breasts. My word Mrs. E! They are gigantic, almost bovine. And IT's nipples
are so hard and erect, they could easily poke someone's eye out."

"Oh goodness sakes YES Mrs. M. And look at that ugly pussy. Mercy me! It
appears to be leaking as we speak. And I bet you that wet thing could take
anything from a stray dog to a full grown horse in that slippery fuck hole
IT has Mrs. M."

"Oh! Mrs. E! I think I know who this THING looks like."

"Pray tell Mrs. M. Please share you thoughts with me."

"Remember a day or so ago Ms. E, we arrested that prostitute?"

"Oh Mrs. M, we have arrested so many street whores that I have a hard time
remembering one from the other. They all look and act so dumb and
trampish."

"She was the one in the pink latex dress Mrs E. The one we used that new
silencer on and then couldn't get it off. Does that ring a bell for you
Mrs. E?"

"Oh yes it does Mrs. M. She was so stupid that one. She could hardly put
two intelligent words together, let alone convey a coherent thought. And I
do see what you mean Mrs. M. IT's udders and sex hole do look familiar, but
it's so hard to see her face in this THING Mrs. M."

"True Mrs. E. But IT could be modeled after her. But then again, maybe not.
Oh well, IT really doesn't matter Mrs. E."

"I agree Mrs. M. This THING does not matter at all. Shall we send IT away
now Mrs. M?"

"Yes, I believe so. This THING's obscene appearance is beginning to offend
me Mrs. E."

"Me too Mrs. M. Go away now dolly. We have our drinks and have no further
use for such a lifeless, perverted little sex toy like you."

Both policewomen then turned their backs on Beth. And as they walked away,
Beth could hear their glasses clasp followed by laughter and then a torrid
of mutual congratulations on a job well done.

Beth simply curtseyed, turned and walked away too. Her outside demeanor did
not change, but inside, she felt totally crushed and lost. She was acting
out of habit now, thanks to Tonya's training, otherwise, she would have run
away to some dark vacant hole and cried her eyes out.

As Beth circulated amongst the guests she came upon someone that almost
caused her to drop her tray. From her peripheral vision she saw Patricia.
Her mouth dropped open as she stood in numbing surprise at seeing her best
friend in college here at the party. Thoughts of how, and why, and who did
it were running through her head. Who could have possibly known about her?
And what's more, who hated her enough to bring her here to bear witness to
her public humiliation and ridicule like this.

"Is there a problem pet?" Katherine stepped up close behind her and
whispered in her ear.

"Aaa, ummm, no, no Mistress, there is no problem. B was just surprised to
see that woman over there." And she motioned with her doily crowned bald
head in the direction of Patricia.

Katherine looked over and acknowledged to Beth the woman's presence.

"Oh her, I do not know who she is, but she came with Christine. Christine
called me and asked if she could bring a friend with her. Are you surprised
by her presence pet?"

Surprised was an understatement. Beth was utterly shocked and terrified to
the bone with fear. 'Damn that bitch Christine, she must really hate me to
bring Patricia with her like this,' she thought to herself.

"Umm, yes Mistress, B is very surprised to see her here."

Katherine put her hands on Beth's shoulders and began to rub them as though
trying to tell her she felt empathy for her situation.

"Is there going to be a problem pet," Katherine again whispered in her ear.

Beth wanted to scream YES, get me out of here, NOW! But the combination of
Beth's rising submissive streak and seeing how close she was to ending this
charade once and for all gave her the courage to answer back.

"No Mistress, there is not going to be a problem."

Katherine smiled and kissed her on the cheek. She then said in a thoughtful
voice, "I'm glad to hear that pet. Just remember what Tonya taught you and
everything will work out just fine. Now go pet, be the best serving wench
you can and make me proud of you." Katherine then gave Beth a slight pat on
her still red butt and sent her off to greet Patricia.

Beth did her routine for Patricia, thankful for having to keep her eyes
looking down as part of the process. She felt that if she looked into the
eyes of her best college friend, then she would just fall apart and ruin
everything.

Like her peers from work, Patricia was also understandably taken aback at
the sight of Beth's exotic appearance. But Patricia was known for her
strong inner and outer strength. So she was able to take a drink from
Beth's tray without freaking out.

At first, Beth thought that Patricia did not recognize her and for that
she was ready to sigh with relief and then wander off, but then Patricia
said one word, "Beth?" And Beth's heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

What could Beth do? Run away? Throw her serving tray down and hug Patricia
for all she was worth? She wanted to do both, but not without dire
consequences for all who had been so loyal to Katherine's plan. All she
could do was put her Beth "self" on a back burner and take on the identity
of B in it's hideous entirety.

"Yes Mistress Patricia. B, the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress
Katherine is also known as Beth. Is there anything that slave B can do for
you Mistress Patricia?"

Beth did not have to look at Patricia to see how confused she was. They
were the best of friends in college, more like sisters in fact. They knew
each other as well as they knew themselves. Many times they would think so
much alike that they were able to finish one another's sentences. If one
was in trouble the other was right there to help. And if something good
happened to one, the other celebrated her good fortune without jealousy or
ill will. That is why Beth did not have to ask what Patricia was feeling,
she already knew.

"Ok Beth, I know you, what gives? This is a joke, right? A pretty far out
one at that what with that shiny dome of yours. But it is still all a joke,
right?"

Oh how Beth wanted to tell her friend why she was doing this. How she was
being forced into doing this because of Paul. In fact, she was thinking
about doing just that! They were on the outside of the party with no one
around them. It would only take a few seconds to enlighten Patricia that
this was all part of a secret plan. That there was a reason for her
appearing insane. And if she would only play along, then she could tell her
the entire humiliating story later when she was safely in California. Beth
knew Patricia was smart enough to catch on really quick and to follow her
lead so to speak. They were truly that close to one another.

But just as Beth was about to confide in Patricia, a second pair of shoes
walked into her down cast line of sight. Men's shoes belonging to Paul.

Beth shut her eyes with despair. When will she ever get a break! She
couldn't tell Patricia now, not with Paul standing right there beside her.
All she could do was to continue playing her role the best she could.

"No Mistress Patricia, this is not a joke. B is really the lesbian bimbo
slave girl of Mistress Katherine. B has found her true destiny in life
Mistress Patricia. B had always felt like she was living a lie, even with
you Mistress. Deep down B wanted to love a woman, a dominant woman like
Mistress Katherine. B feels so free and happy now as a mindless sex toy.
No desire, no identity, no needs, except to make Mistress Katherine happy.
That is the reason for this bonding ceremony tonight. To make it as
official as possible that B belongs to Mistress Katherine in all that she
is, in heart, in mind and in soul."

Then Beth added one more little passage, just to send the message home for
Paul's benefit, but not without consequences to her own psyche.

"B, or she that you once knew by the name of Beth, is truly happy being an
owned piece of property, a sex slave of Mistress Katherine now. B hopes
Mistress Patricia will accept that fact and wish them both all the luck and
love in the world in their life long relationship as Mistress and slave."

Beth was fighting off tears of great remorse, not from the fact that she
was degrading and humiliating herself in becoming someone's slave and sex
toy, but from the fact that she had just lied to her best, most trusted
friend in the entire world. All the negative things that had happened to
her up to this point were in no way equaled to the deep heart breaking
regret and shame she now had in having lied to her best lifelong friend.
All she could do was stand there in silence and wait for Patricia to say
something. And knowing her as well as she did, she knew exactly what she
was going to say too.

"I . . . I don't know Beth. But I do know YOU! I know you very well indeed.
But I also heard what you just said and the way you said it. To say that I
am confused is just the tip of the iceberg, but I do care about you Beth.
You are my best friend, and I do wish you the best this world can give you.
If this is what you truly and dearly want out of life, then I am happy for
you, very happy for you Beth, I mean, B. And I do wish you all the luck and
love in the world for you and your Mistress."

Patricia then moved to Beth and kissed her on the cheek.

Beth was heartsick. It took all of her strength to keep smiling, curtsy to
Patricia and then walk away. This was the only time that she did not hear
laughter when she walked away from someone at the party.

"Oh my dear sweet friend Patricia," Beth said to herself as a single tear
rolled down her cheek as she remembered this part of the party with deep
sorrow. She kept telling herself that it was far too late to do anything
about it, but once she was free in California she would move heaven and
earth to find Patricia again. She will tell her why she acted so strangely
and why she had to lie to her. She knew that Patricia would forgive her.
Then the two would have a long laugh together and catch up on old times.

The two young women loved one another so much that anything could be
forgiven.

Beth's mind then turned to Christine and a wave of hot anger flowed through
her like molten steel. Christine, now that was a person she would never
forgive. Never forgive her for bringing Patricia to the party and never,
ever, forgive her for what she did to her at the party either. NEVER!

**************************************************************************

Part 11 - "Crushed by Christine" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 11)


                        "Crushed by Christine"


Beth's angered memories tested the holding power of the straps that bound
her tightly to the pole. The strain of them flexing and creaking were the
results of Beth's increasing need for revenge on Christine. The memories of
being made a fool of in public and having to accept it with the gracious
demeanor of a stupid bimbo slave girl only added to her need to make her
nemesis suffer like she did.

It began right after the heart-breaking scene with her best college friend
Patricia. As Beth turned and left her deceived friend, she walked right
into the path of another female guest. Since Beth had to keep her eyes
looking down, the mark of a properly domesticated slave, she only saw the
woman's fashionable leather pumps and part of her long flowing gown. As
soon as she recognized a guest standing before her, she immediately went
into her happy serving wench greeting to welcome this special guest to her
public degradation and de-humanizing spectacle.

She watched in silent calmness as a delicate female hand with exquisite
manicured nails and impressive jewelry reached for one of the drinks on her
tray. Beth asked the woman if there was anything else that she could do for
her and the woman responded in the form of a question that only Beth could
answer.

"Tell me dear, is it hard for you to match the shade of your lipstick to
the color of your red ass, or is it done vice-versa?"

It was the BITCH!

Christine was standing right in front of her laughing and ridiculing her in
one fell swoop. All Beth wanted to do was to attack, to claw, to bite, to
sink her teeth into the arrogant egotistical flesh of this traitorous femme
fatale until she hit bone. But being completely dedicated to the success of
Katherine's plan, Beth just stood her ground in smiling serving wench form
and calmly answered back, "B, the bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine,
does not know how to answer Mistress Christine's question."

Beth decided that her best response was to swallow her anger, and pride,
and remain in character. It was far too risky to try and match witty
replies of mutual condemnation with Christine here at the party, but it
wasn't an easy task for her.

"Oh, I am sorry dear. I did not mean to use the English language in a
manner that your ditsy little mind could not comprehend, I mean UN-DER-
STAND. But let's not waste these tender precious moments together with me
trying to educate a cute, scatter brained, nitwit like yourself Beth.
Especially with information you should have learned a long time ago in
grade school. Now shall we dear?"

Beth firmed her grip on the serving tray as a means of defraying some of
the hostile stress that was growing exponentially within her. Again, she
played the well trained submissive to perfection and replied, "Yes Mistress
Christine, B is very thankful for your concern."

Christine took a sip of her drink and then announced in a clear voice of
amazement, "My goodness Beth! I am in AWE of your exceptional appearance
tonight. Each time I see you, you not only look more outlandishly sexy, but
in the realm of simple human dignity you seem to be quite lacking. You must
be so very proud of yourself my dear. But please Beth, do me a small favor
and perform a slow little turn for me. I do so want to see every last bit
of such an unique oddity as yourself."

Beth remembered how each of Christine's lewd and degrading comments cut
deeply into the quality of her spirit. And having to follow her orders like
a well-trained animal was adding tremendously to her already loathsome
self-image.

She remembered doing a cute little curtsey before slowing turning herself
around in place. Hearing Christine squeak and giggle at the way she looked
from one perspective to the next was like someone dragging their
fingernails on a chalkboard for her.

When Beth reached the point where her back was to Christine, Christine told
her to stop. Two more commands followed telling her to bring her legs
together and then bend herself forward at the waist keeping her legs
straight in the process. Beth just followed orders like the sexy mindless
robot she portrayed.

As she bent slowly over, Beth concentrated on maintaining her balance in
her six inch heels while trying not to spill any of the drinks that
remained on her tray. This little maneuver required her to focus her
thoughts on what she was doing and not to linger on how incredibly obscene
she must look to all those at the party. What with her big breasts hanging
down over the drinks like a cow ready to be milked. Not to mention how her
plump derriere slowly revealed itself in all it's naked red glory like a
street slut advertising her fuck holes.

When Beth's upper torso was about level she heard Christine tell her to
stop and hold her position. But in order for Beth to hold this pose for any
length of time she had to shift her center of gravity backwards. So now her
rear end stuck out even more brazenly so.

"Mercy me Beth! Your derriere is so BIG, and so RED! I bet it must still
hurt too. But I do believe I have seen your big butt redder than this
though. Do you remember my dearest friend Beth?"

Beth closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Oh how she hated Christine's
cheerful sarcasm. Did Christine really think that she could ever forget
that horrible night when she suffered the most scarring abuse at that's
bitch's hand?

Again, Beth forced her anger and human dignity deep within herself while
letting the bimbo serving wench B come out and deal with this waking
nightmare.

"Yes Mistress Christine, B remembers very well when you spanked her. And
Mistress Katherine has told B to thank you again for showing poor stupid
bimbo B the error of her ways that night."

"Oh how nice of your owner to say such a thing Beth! But then again, what
are friends for if not to be there when your dearest schoolmate is in dire
need of assistance. I was so glad that I could be of some help to your
whorish pink bimbo self that night Beth. I mean, the time and effort it
took me to turn your lily white derriere into a deep burning crimson red,
well, that was just my way of thanking you for all the times you were there
for me back in college. But how does your butt feel now Beth? Does it still
burn like it did that wonderful night at the police station?"

Beth could not believe the depths to which Christine would go to make her
life a living hell.

"B is unsure Mistress Christine. B's butt really hurt her bad that night,
and her butt really hurts her bad tonight too. It's just to difficult for
this lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine to think of a right
answer for you Mistress Christine."

"Oh poor little twit Beth. You truly do live up to your bimbo airhead
status in not knowing your ass from one day to another. But here, maybe I
can be of some help to you, one, more, time."

Beth recalled how her spiraling anger was quickly replaced with full-blown
terror. She suddenly believed that Christine was going to spank her, again!
Right there in the middle of the party, and before all the guests, and
Patricia!

She remembered how she tensed her entire body, to ready herself in
anticipation of that first vicious slap. That's how Tonya trained her. It
wasn't a question of surprise, but one of endurance.

She experienced so many butt slaps from Tonya during her training period
that the surprise aspect was no longer an issue. But what was an issue, was
the intensity of pain that was going to spike through her. She still had to
endure that. And to endure it without rebellion, without screaming or
begging for mercy, and above all, without moving a single inch. Thus, her
full attention was given to maintaining her "as is", bent over, butt out
position and not to what a pathetic excuse for a human being she gave to
the rest of the guests.

The center of Beth's focus was again on the tray of drinks she was
carrying. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was to accidentally
spill any of those drinks on the floor. If she did, she knew Katherine
would have to appear very angry with her, to save face and the plan. She
would be forced to chastise Beth herself, that is, after making her clean
up the mess with her tongue. The humiliation of her being on all fours, her
red butt sticking up and wagging from side to side like a happy little
doggie while her big pendulous breasts were swinging around under her like
some milk laden dairy cow as she licked every last drop that was spilled on
the floor. That would be the absolute worst humiliating act she had ever
experienced to date. So whatever degree of pain that Christine was about to
inflict upon her, she was ready to take it. She had no other choice.

Then it came.

Not the hard swat of a vengeful hand that brought hot searing pain to her
already aching butt, but a surprisingly, gentle, soothing cold.

Beth chuckled to herself, even now strapped to the pole. The possibility of
Christine doing something nice for her was too bizarre to even think as
being possible. But it did happen. Christine used the side of her cold
sweaty glass and glided it over her inflamed burning butt. And it felt so
good!

The soft moans of pleasure emanating from Beth's enlarged pouting red lips
seemed to permeate every occupied corner of the party. And the guests
listened and watched with silent smiling fascination.

Beth was lost in the soothing moment. She did not try to figure out why she
was experiencing such wonderful pleasure at the hand of the person she
hated the most in the world. It was all to confusing for her. Best to just
go with the flow and then put it behind her as soon as possible.

Beth remembered being so passively content with having the fire in her butt
coolly quenched away that she honestly didn't know when Christine stopped
stroking her butt cheeks and began playing with her pussy. Her touch was so
gentle there too. Well, it really wasn't "her touch" as if she was using
her own fingers. Christine would never degrade herself into actually
touching another woman's pussy, especially in public, and least of all
Beth's. No way! Instead, Christine used the plastic swizzle stick from her
drink.

Christine was stroking Beth's labia lips back and forth with the side of
the little plastic stick, sometimes making increasing and decreasing
circular movements around her sensitive little pussy nub. She would even
use the very tip to lightly scratch, tickle and probe Beth's most sensitive
spot.

Beth wanted to say NO MORE! But that was not an option given to her when
Tonya trained her. What was expected of her, however, was for her to appear
as though she enjoyed it. That is how a properly trained sex slave
responds. So she began to rock herself back and forth with each slow sawing
stroke of that damnable stick. She forced herself, through the humiliation,
to look aroused by performing a little sexy undulating pelvic hump too. And
of course, to add the icing on the cake, she managed a few well practiced
sensuous moans and groans that echoed her sweet passionate yearning for
more. Once again, her enemy was reaping revenge by making her look like
some soulless animal with a voracious appetite for sex no matter how it was
presented to her.

"My goodness Beth! I never realized how much of a horny little slut you
really are. To think, that all I have to do to get you all worked up and
your pussy dripping wet, is to play with your fucking cunt with a simple
swizzle stick. You really must like being a horny little slut after all,
don't you Beth?"

Beth hated having to respond to questions like this. It wasn't enough for
her to be put on naked display, or to demonstrate in public how incredibly
excited she became when touched in an embarrassing and degrading way. She
had to verbally admit to loving it as well. Insult added to injury was the
way she thought of it, and Christine was giving it to her with both
barrels.

"Yes Mistress Christine, B is a very horny slut just like you said."

"I thought so. Now stand up you little horny slut and face me."

Beth felt relieved that her aroused pussy exhibition was finally over with,
but she had a bad feeling that Christine was not quite through with her
yet. When she turned and faced Christine, with her down cast eyes, she
could see a cube of ice in Christine's delicate fingers waiting to be used
upon her. This time Beth knew she was in for it. Tonya didn't train her on
how to respond to a piece of ice, but somehow, almost instinctively, she
knew what to do.

Initially, it felt like someone touching the top of her breasts with a hot
poker. Her body did a bit of a knee jerk reaction when the ice touched her
tender warm skin. She even let out a little gasp of shock and pain from
that first contact. But as Christine began to slowly rub the ice cube over,
under and around both of her sensitive breasts the shock of the searing
cold was replaced with just plain hurt. Not that Beth could show it. Oh no!
Beth had to keep that "I love being a masochist. Please hurt me some more
Mistress" persona in clear view for all to see.

Instead of a wrinkled brow, quivering lips and an audible lamentation of
intense distress, Beth had to wear the lusting mask of sheer cooing
ecstasy. Even when Christine concentrated her efforts on Beth's nipples,
making them into hard erect nubs of cold numbing pain, Beth's pouting lips
and panting breath were whispering the words "More, please more."

All of a sudden Christine stopped. She told Beth to open her mouth and
popped the remaining icy weapon into her hot horny mouth to be dissolved
away by the wanton heat within.

"Beth, look at me."

Beth was taken aback by the seriousness in Christine's voice. She didn't
want to look at her, make eye contact with her, perhaps even lose her
submissive facade as a result of the anger rising up inside her. Besides,
Tonya made it clear to her in no uncertain terms to NEVER look at anyone in
the face. So she explained to Christine, "B is very sorry Mistress
Christine, but B must always keep her head erect but eyes looking down.
This is the mark of an obedient and well trained slave, and lesbian bimbo
slave girl B always obeys her Mistress Katherine."

"Trained Beth? Animals are trained, people are taught. Are you saying you
are nothing but an animal, like a dog? No different than a well trained
bitch to her Mistress. Is that what you are telling me Beth? That you are a
little doggie bitch in heat?"

Beth hated the inference Christine was making, but what could she do. If
she tried to confront her, then things could get out of hand and possibly
explode, ruining everything. So she continued to play poor dumb B and tried
to get away as quickly as possible.

"B does not know what you mean Mistress Christine. She is too dumb to
understand. And B does love Mistress Katherine very much and would never
want to disobey her. May B go now please and see to the needs of the other
guests at Mistress Katherine's party Mistress Christine?"

"You may go when you have looked at me, eye to eye Beth. Now look at me!"

"Please Mistress Christine, it is impossible for lesbian bimbo slave . . ."

"Beth! If you do not look at me NOW, I will go to Katherine and tell her
that I was not pleased with the quality of her slave girl. In fact, I will
tell her loud enough so that everyone will hear that I found you most
insolent, arrogant and far from being the well trained and obedient slave
you make yourself out to be. In short, I will make everyone believe you are
an imposter, a fake, and a fraud. I have no doubt that upon hearing my
public review of you, Katherine will be most embarrassed and displeased
with you. Just like she was in that interrogation room. You will have
ruined her party and as a result she will want to punish you right here and
before everyone. Maybe even I will be given the opportunity to chastise you
again Beth. Put you over my knee with your fat ass sticking up all nice and
bare ready for my hand. I would enjoy that Beth, very, VERY much. If you
don't want that to happen then look at me, NOW!"

Beth was once again in the position of picking the lesser of two evils. She
never wanted to suffer another humiliating and painful spanking at the hand
of Christine. So the only choice she had was to obey her. But she had to
stay in control of herself. She could not loose her cool obedient,
unemotional, smiling "I love being a lesbian bimbo slave girl" character.
She had to put Beth on a far back burner, just for awhile, and become
simply B in all that she was--heart, mind and soul.

It took her less than a minute. She slowly raised her eyes and looked
straight into the face and eyes of her tormentor from hell.

It was like time stood still. Each was looking directly into the eyes of
the other. The only difference was that Beth "continually" held her
smiling, deadpan facade, while Christine's face "changed". Hers went from a
victorious, grinning, soul searching stare, to one of a rebuffed wrinkled
gaze of frustration.

Christine then took a step back and told Beth to lower her eyes back down.

"I am very disappointed in you Beth."

Beth remembered how her heart fell to the lowest level of distress possible
upon hearing those words. For she thought that Christine was going to do
what she threatened to do if she failed to look at her. But then Christine
enlightened her about her disappointment.

"The entire reason for my coming here was to see you humiliated to tears
Beth. I must admit, that first time I witnessed your degrading
chastisement, especially via my own hand, I gained so much pleasure from it
that I thought I was going to have an orgasm right there on the spot. I
don't dislike you Beth, I passionately abhor you! The impasse we had in
college still exists today, at least in me it does. I needed to get my
revenge on you Beth, my pound of flesh in recompense for what you did to me
back then. What I did to you in that interrogation room went a long way in
appeasing my appetite for revenge, but it wasn't enough. I found I needed,
no craved, more.

That's why I came here tonight, to get another hit for my revengeful
addiction. I even had plans to ask Katherine if I may borrow you for a few
weekends now and then. Of course I would promise her that I would do
nothing to permanently hurt you. Just keep you all submissive, slavish and
under my direct control during your time with me. And during that time, I
would make sure that you would suffer, physically, mentally and
emotionally. I thought about throwing a party too. You of course would be
the serving maid since you do it so very well Beth.

I would have invited some of my friends, old and new, and even some of
yours too Beth. Let them see how really pathetic you turned out. The great
businesswoman Beth Jenson in her role as a lowly serving wench. Mmmm, I get
goose bumps just thinking about it!

It would be fun watching you being groped by the guys and made fun of by
the women. I even had thoughts of turning you into my very own pet pooch
called Sparkle. I would teach you to do tricks like beg, roll over, play
dead and fetch. To have you eat and drink from a doggie bowl and then force
you to squat outside in my yard and defecate just like a real little
doggie. Then while I read a good book by the fire you would be curled up
around my feet in silent teary eyed slumber.

The number of ideas I had to degrade you were racing through my mind one
after the other. I felt, finally, it was all just a matter of time before I
could have my full cup of revenge. But now, I am very disappointed. For I
can see that all my ideas to punish you will have gone for naught. The Beth
I knew, the one I wanted to hurt so badly, is no longer there. All the
while I mocked you, humiliated you, did things to you that would enrage any
normal self-respecting person to a level bordering on physical violence,
you did nothing. You not only took it all in stride, but you relished it,
groveled in it, and almost orgasmed to it.

When I demanded that you look at me, I thought I could still see your soul
Beth. The soul of that feisty spirited Beth Jenson through the windows of
your eyes. But all I saw in them was emptiness. I have seen more passion,
more life, in the eyes of my niece's dog than I saw in yours Beth.

Back in the interrogation room I still saw Beth, and I enjoyed punishing
her to the max. But now, I do not see her any more. And all that willful
humiliation I have just put you through, I find void of satisfaction. It's
like chastising a poor dumb animal, there is no point to it. That is why I
am disappointed in you Beth, or "slave B" would be more appropriate. All my
delicious plans to make your life a living hell have fallen by the way
side. I have all the desire in the world to make Beth suffer, but I have
not the least bit of interest to hurt a dumb animal, even one as dumb and
well trained as you.

I am not a sadist. I do not inflict pain just to be sexually aroused by it.
I am simply a woman who was once treated very badly. And one who was lucky
enough to have the opportunity to revenge myself on the person who did it.
But now, she no longer exists. And my need for retribution is gone as well.
You may go slave B."

Beth remembered curtsying, turning and sauntering away from Christine. Part
of her was glad that Christine was going to leave her alone and cease to be
a threat to her. Another part of her still wanted revenge on Christine, for
all that she did to her, at the police station and here at the party. But a
large part of her wondered if Christine might be correct about her. For
even when she looked at herself in the mirror, her former self, Beth
Jenson, seemed almost completely dissolved away.

Her looks, her walk, her mannerisms, even the way she talked and thought
was all in line with being a lesbian bimbo slave girl and not the person
she once was. It was all beginning to feel so natural for her too, and that
scared her! Did fantasy transform itself into reality without her knowing
it? Was it too late for her to go back to being Beth Jenson? Would she even
want to?

Beth shook her head wildly NO against the wooden pole. No, that's not it,
it's just stress, that's all, just plain stress. Once this fictional
fabrication was over with, she will take some time off, relax, and plan for
the future, her future. The future of a corporate executive named Beth
Jenson in sunny California. She quickly repeated her mantra over and over
again in her head.

'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing
this for a better life and this too will soon be over.'

'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing
this for a better life and this too will soon be over.'

'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing
this for a better life and this too will soon be over."

It was all just a matter of time for Beth, and that time was only a few
minutes away.

**************************************************************************

Part 12 - "The Fire--Bald, Bound and Bonded" Coming soon

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 12)


                  "The Fire--Bald, Bound and Bonded"


Beth sighed, just a little one, for the straps that bound her tightly to
the pole would tolerate nothing more. The end was near. Her humiliating
performance as kinky serving wench was over with. All that remained of this
waking nightmare was the bonding ceremony, and that too would soon be over
with. Then fate would smile upon her. Paul would be out of her life, for
good, and she would have that executive position on the west coast that she
always dreamed of. Her old life, her true identity, would be once more
hers, to do with as SHE pleased and no one else.

Her mind drifted back to the party. Right after her embarrassing spectacle
with that bitch Christine, Katherine came to her and said, "It is time B."

Beth was to leave the party, go to the great room and be prepared by Tonya
for the final act. She was glad that her duties as serving wench were at an
end, but she did not relish what was to happen next. Katherine told her
that it would be necessary, and Beth believed her. Beth also reasoned, that
in the final analysis, it was a small price to pay for such a grand future
that awaited her. So she agreed to the bonding ceremony, even though it
made her stomach turn in disgust just to think about it. Maybe it was a
good idea for her to be bound and gagged to the pole after all, considering
what was to be done to her.

When she entered the room Tonya greeted her with the usual hug and long
sensuous kiss. By now it was totally acceptable for Beth to freely accept,
and give, a French kiss to another woman without distaste.

After the intimate contact, Tonya told her to completely undress. She felt
relieved to finally shed her bizarre and distressing uniform. The
embarrassment she would soon feel from being seen completely naked before
all of the guests was a welcomed reprieve in order to alleviate the
constant ache from her too tight corset and too high leg cramping shoes.
Besides, the serving wench uniform left nothing to the imagination anyway.

So Beth removed her latex costume including the doily maid's cap from her
bald head and neatly placed them off to the side. Oh her body felt good not
being compressed at the waist like some insect or having to walk virtually
on her toes to move about. But her happiness was short lived, for she knew
what soon awaited her.

Tonya told her to stand with her back up against the wooden pole. She then
gently pulled Beth's arms behind the post and fastened them together at
wrists and elbows with a couple of leather straps, making the latter almost
touch. This position made Beth a bit anxious. For it not only pulled her
shoulders uncomfortably back and forced her spine hard against the post,
but it also caused her to thrust her beautiful, full breasts out in front
of her like twin torpedoes. Once more she was forced to flaunt her female
sexuality like a common street slut.

Next, Tonya told her to spread her legs wide. Two leather cuffs mounted on
a horizontal cross member were fastened just above Beth's ankles, keeping
her legs stretched far apart. Then Tonya used a series of straps to
encircle Beth's torso together with the post. She made a concerted effort
to pull each one extra tight through the roller buckles before fastening it
securely behind the wooden pillar. The effect was to hold Beth's body
firmly to the post without allowing her the slightest ability to twitch.
Her smooth, supple, feminine flesh seemed to bulge seductively over the
edges of those many black straps. And in one particular area, which was
again her prominent breasts, the level of erotic attraction was made even
more conspicuous, and more dramatic, when two more straps were used to run
between them in a "X" formation.

One final, long and wide, black leather strap remained. And Tonya threaded
it in the most ominous way around Beth's lower torso. The buckle end was
placed behind the post in a kind of fixed point of reference, at about the
top of her buttocks. The other end snaked around the outside of her right
hip and over her corresponding right thigh. It coiled around her leg,
between it and the post, and then back behind the post. It continued its
slithering path around the post and out the other side, from between the
post and her other inner thigh. Then it circled around her left upper leg
and back behind the post again, to be finally threaded through the roller
buckle from which it started and fastened there in.

Tonya played with this one strap for quite awhile making sure it was at the
proper level and evenly tightened through out it's entire strange figure
eight like path. The whole idea of this one strap was two fold. First, it
caused Beth's butt, hips and upper legs to be solidly bound to the pole,
allowing absolutely no movement of her bound bulging voluptuous flesh. The
second part was to help keep her tender inner thighs pulled back and away
from her shaven pussy area. Tonya was intent on displaying Beth's breasts
and pussy with the most startling clarity for all the party guests to see.

When the spider woman finished cocooning Beth to the pole, she couldn't
help but play with her captured prey like a demon cat with its defenseless
mouse. Beth was totally helpless to do anything. Oh her mouth was free to
voice an opposing opinion or two, but she was afraid to. She did not wish
to anger Tonya in anyway. Not the woman who was to perform the bonding
ritual on her. A ritual that Tonya could make even more painful than it
obviously was going to be. So Beth let Tonya have her way with her, like it
or not.

Beth continued to keep her eyes looking down. In part, because it didn't
feel right to look into Tonya's face anymore, after being trained by her.
But mostly because she dared not look into Tonya's captivating eyes. For
she knew how her current damsel in distress situation was effecting Tonya,
making her incredibly aroused. And when Tonya was in that state of
excitement, her powers of seduction were magnified ten fold. Something that
Beth experienced once before, in that jail cell, where she almost made the
worst mistake in her life when she became too receptive to the spider
woman's evil ways. Fate had saved her that time, and Beth would not temp
fate again.

Tonya was like a kid in a candy store. You could see it in her eyes. The
heightened excited state, the eagerness to try every delicious treat that
was laid helplessly before her, and the faint look of indecision as to
which luscious delicacy to try first.

She loved to play with the fullness of Beth's projecting breasts. Her light
skinned palms rubbing all over Beth's well endowed plumpness. Then grasping
and squeezing them tightly as her dark delicate fingers buried themselves
into Beth's soft, creamy, white flesh. Tonya's own famished erotic desires
were causing Beth to softly coo with delight as well.

Tonya was an artist in manipulating a woman's breasts. She used her
fingertips to lightly touch and soothingly circle the darken aureolas of
her bound quarry. And in turn, Beth felt a sensuous tickle that was spine
tingling pleasing to her trembling soul.

Tonya never saw a nipple that did not respond to her loving attention, and
Beth's were no exception. They quickly blossomed into blood engorged
sensitive hard knobs beckoning to be toyed with by Tonya's expert hand. But
this time Tonya used her full luscious lips and whip like tongue on them,
which only increased Beth's physical enjoyment, while at the same time
causing her moral inner self to cry and plea silently for her to stop.

A single tear ran down Beth's cheek when Tonya turned her well learned
powers of eroticism to Beth's pussy. The tear was formed from a combination
of demeaning shame and a ravenous need to cum. Beth felt so helpless, so
aroused and yet so confused in response to what Tonya was doing to her.
Tonya knew exactly what to do to spark the delicious animal cravings
between the legs of any woman, especially when that woman didn't want to.
And in Beth's case, her desire not to was only a token gesture at this
point.

Beth closed her eyes tightly as a long soft moan of lingering pleasure
followed Tonya's intimate massage. Tonya's manner in how her fingers
expertly cuddled Beth's pussy was making Beth purr like a petted house cat
on the lap of her affectionate Mistress.

When Tonya slipped her finger into Beth's wet pussy, Beth let out with a
surprised gasp of joy. She could not help herself. Her body wanted it,
needed it, craved for it!

Each time Tonya's finger thrust deeper into Beth's dripping pussy she let
out a pleading groan for more. And when Tonya began rubbing her thumb in
small circles around Beth's hooded nub her mouth gaped open in silence as
the simple act of breathing was temporarily put on hold.

Faster and faster Tonya's fingers worked their magic as Beth began her
orgasmic ride to ecstasy. Tonya did not let up this time. She pushed it,
she pushed Beth, more and more. Her other hand grasping and squeezing
Beth's breast like a wild woman. Her mouth, lips, and tongue devouring
Beth's other breast like a dog with a succulent soup bone.

Beth tried to catch her breath, but the straps would not let her. Her body
strained for release, but her bonds held her fast. She tried to tell Tonya
to stop, but her body's yearnings overrode her mind's censorship. Beth was
lost. She was helpless to the will of Tonya and the insatiable cravings of
the flesh. All she could do was to ride the wave to glory. And in a single
moment of eternal bliss, Beth had her orgasm.

When Tonya felt Beth's climax, she slowly stopped her erotic assault and
stepped back. Such effort took a lot out of Tonya, especially when she
enjoyed it so much herself. She took a few seconds to catch her own breath
and just stared. She looked upon Beth like a vampire after having her first
blood feeding frenzy, and at that moment, she envied Katherine's good luck.

She stepped forward to her captive and began coating her prey's panting
lips with the wetness from Beth's own orgasmic pussy.

Beth was trying to recover. She never had such an intense orgasm like that
before. Which was why she was slow in regaining her energy and awareness.
But she did feel something moist being placed upon her lips. Instinctively,
she began using her tongue to lap it up. She could sense a vague aroma and
taste that seemed very pleasing to her. She then felt something gently
being pushed into her mouth and this too had that same appealing flavor.
She accepted it and eagerly sucked and licked every bit of it that was
presented to her. It wasn't until she cleaned all of Tonya's fingers, of
her own cum juice, that she realized what she had just done. But somehow,
it didn't bother her like she thought it should.

Tonya took Beth's face in her hands and looked cheerfully upon her. Beth
continued to keep her eyes closed as she let herself relax into Tonya's
gentle caress. Tonya's fetish for bald headed women excited her so much
that she couldn't keep her hands off of Beth. And Beth was feeling just too
damn good from the aftermath of her most wonderful orgasm to really care
what Tonya did to her anymore.

Tonya gave Beth one last intimate kiss. She too liked the taste of Beth's
sweet nectar that lingered in her luscious prey's mouth. She slowly broke
the kiss and after a few quick little pecks that followed, Tonya gently
caressed the side of Beth's face and walked away. Beth was all primed and
ready now for the bonding ceremony to begin.

Beth awakened from her memories as she heard the party guests begin to
enter the room. She kept her standard submissive pose of head up and eyes
down. Again, she found it better not to look into the eyes of those she
once knew during this next extremely bizarre and humiliating event.

As the people entered and saw Beth, they were again surprised by her
restrained, prostrated, nude form. All except Christine and those two lady
cops. They positively gleamed with excitement. Beth even thought she heard
some giggling and outright laughter coming from the direction of where
those two off duty policewomen were.

She could hear Katherine and Tonya talking with the guests, more like
pacifying them as to the "why" of it all. They even directed the guests to
the table where the display was, to help relieve their fears.

Beth never knew about the display until she was totally fastened to the
pole, but from what she could see of it, it looked as if it was some sort
of shrine. It was a collection of pictures and papers associated with her
willingness to become the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine.

There were pictures of Beth getting her first make over that turned her
from a beautiful brunette into a sexy blonde.

There were pictures of her as the smiling sexy office bimbo secretary,
including when she was told to dance and pose seductively in Katherine's
office during lunch.

There were more pictures of her and Katherine at home, sensuous, erotic
ones. Ones with the two smiling and kissing one another and of them
touching one another, and playing sexually with one another.

There were pictures of Beth in all sorts of fetish clothes and bondage.
These pictures always showed her in a kind of willing submissive pose to
Katherine's dominating persona. Like the one with Katherine sitting in a
chair reading a magazine and Beth kneeling along side of her, dressed in
pink rubber, and bound and gagged with leather. It showed her with the side
of her cheek resting on Katherine's leg and Katherine's hand petting her
head like a loving pet.

There were more pictures dealing with Beth's kinky desire for the bizarre.
Pictures of Beth getting her head shaved. With her posing seductively in
her new Mohawk and playing with her pussy and breasts. And then the
completely bald headed Beth in a warm heartfelt hug and kiss with
Katherine. She looked so tremendously thankful in that one. Even with the
complete loss of her feminine pride and joy.

Along with those pictures Beth could see some papers blatantly exhibited
for anyone who cared to read them. She surmised that two of them were the
legal documents that she was forced to sign attesting to her lesbianism and
giving Katherine power of attorney. The third, and now fourth, document
were still a mystery to her.

The purpose of the display was obvious. It was there to help even the most
skeptical of the guests to come and believe that Beth was, and still is, a
willing participant in her downward spiral to becoming a mere sex object,
an owned slave of Ms. Katherine Sloan. A display that was primarily for the
obstinate and heretic Paul, the unbeliever, who was so thoroughly confused
by now that the bonding ritual would no doubt push him over the edge and
allow Beth her dreamed destiny.

Katherine walked up beside Beth and whispered in her ear, "This is the
final part of the plan B. After this, Paul will be nothing more than a bad
memory and you will be able to become the woman of your dreams. Are you
ready Beth?"

Beth swallowed hard and whispered back to Katherine, "Yes Mistress, B
thinks so. B is so very scared, but B is determined to see this through."
Beth forced a smile, quickly looking up and into the eyes of her mentor and
friend, and said, "Thank you, so very, VERY much for being there for me
Katherine." And a little tear formed at the corner of her eye.

Katherine smiled back, wiped the single tear away and affectionately
stroked her bald head. She kissed Beth on the cheek and in a hushed voice
said, "Ok my lesbian bimbo slave girl, lets get on with the show."

Katherine nodded to Tonya who then directed the guests to where Beth was
bound like a sacrificial lamb.

Once the guests were crowded into position Tonya began her presentation.

"Guests, we are gathered here this evening to witness the ceremonial
bonding of Mistress Katherine Sloan to her slave girl B."

Tonya's sermon was patterned after the standard wedding ceremony that
united a man and women in holy matrimony. Only in this case, it was geared
for two lesbians who also lived as Mistress and slave.

Beth was impressed by the heartfelt liturgy of Tonya. It reflected a warm,
caring and endearing love between two people who just happened to be female
and who just happened to be into a Dominant and submissive lifestyle. As
Tonya continued to speak, Beth thought she heard a female guest sniffle.
How strange she thought, but then again, this entire state of affairs was
totally off the wall to begin with. Then she heard her cue and got ready.

Tonya looked at Beth and asked her, "Do you B take Mistress Katherine as
your eternal soulmate, to love, to cherish, to submit yourself completely
to, to obey without question in all that she may command, and to be the
willing slave of hers for as long as you both may live?"

Beth took a moment as the words of Tonya sank deep into her psyche, to mix
with her own mantra that was continuing to echo in the back of her mind.
She then took a restrained deep breath and said in a clear audible voice,
"B does Mistress Tonya."

Tonya again asked Beth, "Do you B willingly consent and partake in this
ritual bonding ceremony as a symbolic expression of your love and devotion
to your owner, Mistress Katherine?"

Beth flexed her firmly bound body in reaction to what saying yes to that
implied. But again, she somehow found the strength to say, "B does Mistress
Tonya."

"Will Mistress Katherine finish preparing her slave so the bonding ceremony
may continue."

Katherine nodded her head in confirmation as Tonya walked off to the side
to acquire her needed equipment.

Katherine stepped behind Beth and proceeded to wrap a wide leather strap
around Beth's forehead and the post. She snugged the leather up and buckled
it in place. Beth's bald head was now fixed firmly to the post just like
the rest of her inert body was.

Next, Katherine stood in front of Beth holding a much larger nerf ball than
Beth was accustomed to. Katherine held it up to Beth's lips and whispered
ever so softly to her, "Be strong, be brave, be courageous, my dear sweet
Beth."

Katherine was letting Beth know that she was pulling for her. That it will
all soon be over with. Just one last act of unconscionable depravity and
life, her life, will be completely different from then on.

Beth absentmindedly wet her quivering lips with her tongue. Even though
that nerf ball was nothing more than a sponge, it never-the-less was a BIG
sponge. She was a bit hesitant in opening her mouth, but when the softness
of the sponge touched her lips, she did her best to open her mouth as wide
as humanly possible. She was ready to receive every last bit of that
damnable ball, which she had come to hate with a passion. Thank goodness
this would be the last time she would ever have that damn thing in her
mouth again.

Katherine was gentle in pushing the sponge gag into her willing slave's
mouth. She methodically kept pushing the top of the ball back into the
upper part of Beth's mouth, almost trying to slowly roll that ball deeply
into the limited space available to it. It didn't take long for it to
completely fill Beth's mouth to capacity, but half of it was still on the
outside. That's when Katherine had to become more determined in getting the
rest of it in.

She began to push the sides of the spongy ball into each of the fleshy
cheek areas, forcing it behind the tender corners of Beth's distressed
stretched lips. She even went back to forcing the center of the ball back
hard into the mouth until Beth began to close her eyes tightly from the
pressure and pain of having her jaws stretched so abnormally wide.

At long last, Katherine stopped her aggressive packing. But again, there
was still a noticeable bulge sticking out of Beth's ballooned out orifice.
Katherine stepped behind Beth and picked up a narrow leather strap. She
brought the strap around in front of Beth and carefully placed it's middle
across the center of the bulging ball. She maintained a firm connection
between the strap and ball while she pulled the leather ends along the side
of Beth's head and then behind the post, to which, she thread the free end
through it's corresponding mated roller buckle.

Katherine continued to pull the free end through the buckle as the strap
grew tighter and tighter in place. Soon the strap had forced whatever
remained on the outside of Beth's mouth, inside, and disappeared completely
from view by the foam that formed around when it was inside Beth's mouth.
That's when Katherine ceased pulling and fasten the strap in place.

The expression on Beth's face seemed to be frozen in time. She did not
blink an eye, wrinkle a brow or twitch a single muscle in her entire
appearance. All she did was to stare out in space, motionless, with only
her eyes slowly becoming more and more misty. And any sound of misery, or
pleading words of mercy, was now dampened down to a barely audible moan or
whine. The sponge that stretched Beth's mouth and lips almost beyond human
endurance was also a very effective silencer too.

The sound of Tonya rolling out a cart caused Beth to break her inanimate
repose. But before she could focus on the shiny metal instruments that were
upon it, a soft black silky cloth covered her eyes. Katherine had finished
Beth's preparation with a blindfold around her head.

Beth was now ready. If she had any second thoughts, it was too late. She
could no longer voice her concerns, because her mouth exploding gag
prevented it. She could not physically get away, because she was strapped
tightly to the heavy wooden post. Nor could she beseech others to intervene
on her behalf with her tormented and pleading eyes, because they too were
hidden in darkness. All that was left to her was her hearing and sense of
touch, and they only added to her anxiety, as foretellers of what was yet
to come.

The first thing Beth sensed was how quiet it was. Not a single voice nor a
faint whisper or nervous twitch could she hear from anyone. Then she heard
the sound of metal, as if instruments were being picked up and put back
down again by Tonya. She jumped and squealed from the surprise coldness of
the wet substance that was being brushed around her left nipple area. But
the guests only saw a minor twitch and hardly heard a faded groan from the
lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine's.

Beth's nose quickly picked up on the scent of alcohol, a disinfectant, and
it's coolness seemed to get even colder as it quickly dried on her hard
nipple and soft pale skin. She felt something grasp the tip of her nipple
and then pull it forward. It was a bit hurtful at first, but then she felt
a much stronger, sharper pain that made her scream and contort in
excruciating agony. And this too, this livid instinctive response, was
greatly smothered down into meager insignificance by her bound and gagged
state.

The guests, on the other hand, made noticeable distressing sounds and
movements as they continued to watch on in horror as Tonya slowly skewered
Beth's nipple with a long, shiny needle.

More was done to her nipple, but Beth was too focused on the pain to be
even vaguely aware of an opened metal ring being threaded through her
recently pierced erect nub. However, she was aware when the pain began to
fade away after some sort of salve was applied and worked into the filled
hole.

As the pain slowly turned into discomfort, Beth again felt the cold alcohol
being swabbed around her right nipple this time. That's when she couldn't
take it any more. She had reached her limit and she wanted it to end NOW!
She tried to yell out, to plea and beg Tonya to stop! But again, nothing of
any significance was heard due to her gag. In fact, what the guests did
hear was something that was more akin to pleasure than pain. As if Beth
were trying to show everyone just how much of a masochist she really was.

Again, Beth felt the pinch, the pull and the sharp pain of a needle being
forced through her other hard sensitive nipple. A few more tugs, more
salve, and viola! Both nipples had matching open rings hanging down from
them.

At this point, Beth was so grateful it was over with and that the pain was
beginning to dissipate into something more manageable that she quickly fell
into a fatigued calmness.

'At last, it is done,' she thought to herself. The hardest, and most
painful, part of this ritual was over. Beth began to reflect in her darken
solitude on how truly necessary it was for her to be bound and gagged like
she was. Otherwise, she would never have gone through with it a second
time, the pain was just too . . .

Beth became instantly aware of a cold wetness being applied along the side
of both of her pussy lips.

'What was going on,' she questioned to herself. Why was Tonya disinfecting
her labia lips? Surely she wasn't going to . . .

"AHHHH," came the muffled cry as Tonya pierced and ringed her left labia
lip.

Beth instantly began to yell, scream and fought with all her might. But any
outward sign was totally ignored by the mouth gaping, bug eyed, staring
guests who watched on in total disbelief.

This was not right! Katherine told her only her nipples would be pierced
and ringed not her pussy too. What was going on here? Does Katherine know
about this? Is Tonya doing this on her own? Why is she doing this to her?
This is not supposed . . .

"AHHHHHHH!!!"

Again, Beth's instinctive painful recoil went unnoticed as her right pussy
lip was pierced and opened ringed along side it's mate.

Beth was unceremoniously appraised that her blindfold had been removed when
the room light struck her right in the eyes. This hurting light was soon
blocked out when Katherine stepped in front of her. And as Katherine began
to wipe Beth's cheeks from her tears, Beth raised her eyes up and looked at
Katherine with a deeply hurtful gaze as if asking the question "why?"

Katherine gently kissed her on her bloated cheek and whispered, "It's all
over Beth. Your ordeal is now at an end. I will tell you more later, the
"why" of it all. Just be brave my dearest. It's all down hill for you from
now on." She then kissed Beth again on her bald head and stepped to the
side waiting for Tonya to continue the ceremonial rite.

Beth tried not to cry anymore, to stay into character, and more so not to
choke from being gagged so harshly. She just cast her eyes down like a good
little pierced slave girl, playing her part to the bitter end. What else
could she do?

Tonya directed her words to Katherine now.

"Do you Katherine Sloan pledge to take Beth Jenson as your eternal soul
mate. To love and cherish her as long as you both shall live?"

Katherine replied, "I do, and I symbolically express this pledge by the
closing of my soul mate's nipple rings."

A clear distinct click was heard as each of the opened metal rings were now
locked closed around Beth's throbbing nipples.

"And do you, Mistress Katherine, promise to dominate, to humble, and to
use in whatever capacity that you choose for your slave B, for as long as
you both shall live?"

"I do, and I symbolically express that promise by the closing of my slave's
labia rings."

Two more clear, distinct clicks were heard as Mistress Katherine closed the
open rings locking them in Beth's tender pierced pussy.

"I now pronounce you, Mistress and slave."

Then Tonya raised her drink in a toast.

"To the new couple, much happiness, love, and long life!"

The rest of the guests slowly raised their glasses in kind and wished the
bizarre couple all the very best as well.

A short time later Katherine stood in front of Beth and began shaking hands
and hugging bodies. All the invited guests wanted to personally
congratulate Katherine, and to a lesser degree her new slave girl, on her
new joyful life's path.

Beth just remained as she was, bound, gagged and now ringed in passive
silence. No one came up to her to wish her good luck. It was as if all of a
sudden she became nothing more than a piece of furniture, as Katherine
became the couples designated recipient of all the kudos and best wishes.

Beth saw from her peripheral vision, that before the guest's left they were
ushered by Tonya to the shrine and asked to sign a piece of paper, the
fourth document, as if it was a guest book or something. It wasn't long
before only a few people remained. Patricia, her bestest friend in the
world, had already left after signing the paper. Beth watched her leave in
a solemn mood wiping tears from her face. She pledged herself to contact
her dearest friend as soon as possible and tell her why she had to go
through with such an outrageous thing like this.

Beth's remorseful mood changed quickly when she caught site of the two lady
cops as they signed the paper, all happy and giggling. Many times during
the signing would they look at her, point and make some humorous comment
that Beth could not hear, thank goodness. They left the room in a jovial
mood as they continued their comedy routine right out the door. Beth was
glad to see them go, another obstacle was now behind her.

All of a sudden she saw a pair of familiar women shoes at her feet. That
bitch Christine was back to taunt her one last time. Beth kept her eyes
looking down. There was nothing Christine could do or say now that would
take her out of her role. It was all down hill for her just like Katherine
said.

"My goodness slave, you keep on surprising me. The first time when you were
that blonde bimbo street whore. The second, when you were that sexually
frustrated exhibitionist of a serving wench. And now, as a . . . mercy me,
I don't even know how to describe you now. Perhaps that phrase you used to
describe yourself is quite apropos after all. You're the lesbian bimbo
slave girl of Mistress Katherine.

Pity though, I am so sad to see the Beth that I once knew and hated so no
longer exists in you. I had so many ideas to humiliate you with, to degrade
you with, until you cried and begged for my forgiveness. But now, all I see
is a bizarre object of depraved sexuality. It is such a . . .  hmmmmm, I
wonder? It is worth a chance."

Christine came up closer to Beth until Beth could smell the alcohol on her
breath. Then Christine began to talk in a low hushed voice.

"Slave B, did you know that it was all Katherine's idea for you to sign
those three documents before the judge? I had nothing to do with it. I was
all ready to let you go free after spanking that fat ass of yours. It was
all Katherine's idea to force you to sign those papers, not mine. Did you
know that, Beth?"

Beth immediately looked up and into the eyes of her nemesis. She was lying!
Katherine would never do that to her. She would never lie to her. She
trusted Katherine, explicitly! Next to Patricia, Katherine was the dearest
and most loyal friend in the whole world to her. That bitch Christine had
to be lying. Just at that point Beth caught herself angrily staring up at
Christine and instantly shifted her gaze back down.

"Ah haaa! I saw it in your eyes, Beth. You're still in there after all.
Maybe not completely, but you are certainly not the soulless fuck toy you
made yourself out to be. There might even be enough of you left for me to
wreak my vengeance on after all. Not now of course, only later. Yes, much
later. In California perhaps? Where I can visit for the weekend and babysit
you while Katherine is away. Yes, that does sound rather nice. All that
lovely California sunshine. You, me, and a sadistic itch I need so
desperately to scratch. Mmmmm, the thought of it makes my mouth water."

Christine brought her head real close to Beth's and kissed her on the nose.

"Thank you my dearest friend Beth. You have made me a very happy woman
after all. And you will make me even happier once I put a whip to your
hateful ass. But that will come in time, once you and Katherine have
settled down together in California. Then I will visit you and we will
play. We will have a lot of fun together Beth. I promise you! But for now,
good-bye my dear friend. And best wishes on your new lifestyle."

Christine kissed Beth on her nose again and then whispered to her in a most
unsettling voice, "Until we meet again Beth, I'll be thinking of you,
constantly!"

Christine smiled and walked away, giggling. She went over to the supposed
"guest book" and signed her name like all the rest. She turned and proceed
to exit the room when suddenly she stopped. She looked over at Beth for one
last time, her evil smile dominating her whole face, and then she blew Beth
a kiss. After that, she simply walked out of the room, laughing, in a very
maniacal way.

Beth thought to herself, 'What a lying piece of crap that Christine is!
Katherine would never do that to me. And if that bitch ever does come out
to California for her revenge, it will be HER, not me, who will be on the
painful end of that whip! I'll have her wishing that she never should have
come out there. And that, I promise!'

While Beth was in the throes of creative revengeful contemplation, a pair
of men's shoes was next to walk up into her field of vision. It was Paul!

This was it! Beth had to play the docile ringed slave girl for all she was
worth now. No more mistakes like she did with Christine. She had to follow
Tonya's teachings to the letter. She had to remain calm and above all, keep
looking down! Then she heard Paul's voice.

"I . . . I am sorry Beth, I mean, slave B. Here I thought that the two of
you were just pretending, in order to get rid of me. But now I can see the
truth. I see you, not as Beth, but as . . . oh it makes me so sad and sick
to look at you like this. What you have done to yourself? What have you
turned yourself into? I could never . . . I mean, you're no longer the girl
I wanted to marry, to bear my children and spend the rest of my life with.
You've changed so much! You're no longer the woman I loved. I don't even
know who you are any more, so how could I ever love a woman, a . . . thing,
like you. I promise I will never bother you again. I can see it now. How
you really don't love me. How you really don't want me to be in your life
any more, ever. So, good luck to you, slave B. I hope the two of your are
very happy together."

That was it! The plan worked! After all she'd been through. After all she
had to put up with. The humiliation, the pretend lesbian sex acts, the
bondage, the scalping of her beautiful hair, the degrading pictures, the
legal documents identifying her as something that she was not. It had all
paid off. Paul was out of her life, forever! It had worked!

Beth was so happy that she wanted to shout and jump for joy! She was also
happy for being so intensely bound and gagged else her enthusiasm would
have given her away.

Her future in California was now a reality. Life was good! Life was
beautiful! Life, HER life, was all hers once more.

Then Katherine walked up beside Paul. Beth soon heard the clear prideful
voice of her pretend Mistress, and very dear friend.

"Well Paul, do you believe us now? Can you see that Beth is no longer the
girl you thought she was? That she belongs to me, and only to me. That she
is MY lover, MY property, and MY slave! Can you bring yourself to believe
it now Paul?"

Again, Beth waited on pins and needles for the final chop of the axe to
be heard. To reaffirm what she just heard from Paul himself. To make it
more real for her, literally a dream come true, and not just something that
her anxious mind and exhausted body wanted her to hear.

"I would never have believed it, if I didn't see it for myself. To watch it
happen every step of the way. How you turned a vibrant, intelligent, and
independent woman like Beth into your very own lesbian bimbo slave girl was
quite an experience for me, Aunt Katherine."

"Now don't be so modest nephew. I could never have done it without you."

Katherine then hugged her sweet relative and kissed him on the cheek. The
two actually beaming with grand smiles from the happy state of accomplished
bliss that they were in.

Beth was confused. Did she hear right? "Aunt Katherine" and "nephew" Paul?
How could this be? How could they be related? How could they be so happy,
with themselves, with each other? What about the plan? It was supposed to
get rid of Paul, her nephew? No, no, no, this has got to be a joke! But how
could Paul be in on the joke too? Unless . . . Oh no. Oh please NO! It
can't be! Please, let it be a dream, a horrible, terrible nightmare of a
dream, PLEASE!!

Beth slowly looked up, and at the sight of Katherine and Paul hugging and
smiling at each other, at her. Beth was beginning to believe it was true.
All so deviously true, as her eyes began to tear up with devastated horror
and sorrow.

"Ok nephew, enough of these congratulatory acknowledgments. It is time for
you to go and leave me with my brand new slave girl. I need to explain a
few things to her and you need to get on with your life. Here is an
envelope, in compensation for your part in the plan. Now give your Aunt a
nice kiss on the cheek and go."

And Paul did just that. He thanked his Aunt generously for the gift and
began to walk away.

"Oh nephew, don't forget to sign the paper stating you were a witness to
the bonding ceremony and Beth's total willingness in becoming my slave girl
like everyone else."

Beth looked on in bugged eyed shock as Katherine's nephew looked back and
waved in confirmation. A few minutes later he too was gone, just like the
rest.

A moment later Tonya walked up beside Katherine. She put her arms around
her and gave her a long sensuous kiss. Beth closed her eyes in disbelief.
It was all so obvious to her now. That Tonya was in league with Katherine
just as much as Paul had been. Was there no end to this conspiracy of
betrayal!

"So, does she know yet my love", Tonya causally asked Katherine while
smiling and looking at Beth like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

"She knows, but not everything. Why don't you go to bed and I'll be in as
soon as I tell her the whole story."

"Ok, but don't be too long. I am looking forward to making love to my best
girl friend." With that Tonya gave Katherine one quick kiss and a nice
little squeeze on her butt before leaving.

But before the spider woman could completely walk away, Katherine
immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her assertively back, their bodies
actually bumping into one another. Katherine quickly reached up and took
Tonya's face in her hands and kissed her, aggressively and passionately.
She then jerked Tonya's head back and then told her, "Now go, and put on
something pretty in white lingerie. You know how I like contrast in my sex
life, my tasty ebony treat."

Katherine smiled at Tonya, twirled her around and pushed her on her way.
Tonya moved as if she were walking on clouds. And just before she was out
of sight, she turned and said to Beth, "Pleasant dreams, sweet thing." Then
she disappeared into Katherine's bedroom.

Beth was amazed to see so much sexual domineering assertiveness in
Katherine, especially when it was directed at Tonya. From her long ordeal,
Beth came to see how Tonya and Katherine were similar in many ways. But
even in that, she always thought that Tonya was the more authoritative
since she was so much more into the dominance and submission genera. But
obviously she was wrong on that point too. Beth was rapidly finding out how
wrong she was about so many things. Katherine was definitely the more
dominant one, the more powerful and the more controlling of the two, which
only added to her growing fear and sorrow.

Katherine stepped up to Beth. She began touching her lightly with her
fingers. Soon, her touch turned into long tender caresses. Her delicate
fingers and soft palms exploring Beth's tightly bound flesh with a strange
inquisitive eroticism that caused goose bumps to form on Beth's flesh.

Beth wanted nothing to do with this traitorous lying bitch. She tried to
move away, but all that caused was for the straps to creak. It wasn't long
before Katherine began to enlighten Beth about her now, unique, situation.

"I dare say that you believe I owe you an explanation, don't you, PET!
However, you being my slave and I your owner, your dominant Mistress now, I
really owe you nothing. But, I will tell you the why of it all, not because
of some sentimentality or weakness on my part for your current poor,
frightened and confused condition. I am not that kind of a woman, or
Mistress, as you will come to find out. I am going to tell you because it
will enlighten you as to how utterly hopeless it is for you now. It will go
far better for you if you accept your destiny as MY property, MY very own
lesbian bimbo sex slave if you will, than try to fight it, or me."

Katherine made her point by glaring into Beth's eyes while pulling on one
of her still throbbing nipple rings while accenting the word "MY".

Beth closed her eyes tightly as faint moans of pain escaped from her
harshly packed mouth. She soon felt Katherine release her nipple ring and
then began gently stroking her prominent breasts while continuing with her
story.

"It all started the first day you came into my office as my business
assistant and apprentice. When I laid my eyes on you I knew right then and
there that I had to have you. Oh yes, I lied about not being a lesbian.

Although, to be politically correct, I am a bisexual. But I much prefer
woman to men. Beautiful, young, sexy woman that I can possess and bend to
my iron will. Just like you pet."

Katherine's hands began flowing down along Beth's torso, around her hips
and ass, and then to her pussy.

Beth was far too saturated with fear, despair and anger, plus trying to
follow what Katherine was saying, to give any notice to what Katherine was
doing to her body.

"I could have used the direct approach and told you that I found you very
attractive and wanted to make love to you, but really pet, I'm not stupid.
I knew there were far too many hurdles to transverse in order to go that
route. The main one being that you are not a lesbian. The others, all be it
of a much lesser degree, like the age difference and the fact that I am as
aggressive, controlling, and passionate in my sex life as I am in my
business life would no doubt be more stumbling blocks to establishing such
a relationship. And with you being a similar demanding no nonsense woman
that I perceived you to be, I knew you would not entertain the thought of
becoming my submissive sex toy just in the bedroom either.

So, I had to devise a way, a PLAN as you came to know it. Well, only part
of it that is. The first part of the plan was for you to find it necessary
to run away from someone. The second part of it was for you to run towards
someone, namely me.

That's where my dear sweet nephew Paul comes in. I set up a deal with him
to date you and then become one of those psycho, infatuated, won't take NO
for an answer kind of guys that scares the living hell out women. And I
must admit, he did an excellent job of it too. He is going to find a little
note, and a bonus, in his envelope thanking him for being such a
charismatic actor in playing his part of the plan so passionately.

I was so tickled pink, the way you came to me all flustered and in tears
because you were at your wits end in trying to get rid of my nephew. And
when I kissed you that first time, my GOD, it took all my self-control not
to take you all the way that very moment.

That kiss was the first positive incentive and real confirmation that I
definitely wanted you. It motivated me completely to go full steam ahead
with my desire to posses you.

At that point, the plan was as I described it to you back then. First, to
make you appear to be my lesbian lover so Paul would leave you alone. When
that failed, as I planned it would, you were to become my lesbian BIMBO
lover. And we both know where that lead to, with you finally becoming the
lesbian bimbo slave girl to my Mistress Katherine persona. You will never
know how incredibly sexually turned on I became through out this entire
project.

I could barely control myself. Watching you, seducing you, molding you
each step of the way into the present sex slave that you are today. Many
times a day, when I was alone, I found myself masturbating after I did
something to humiliate you, degrade you, transformed you into my kinky
lesbian sex puppet. And each time that you tried to rebel and I talked you
out of it, It made me even more aroused and motivated to make you mine
forever.

Oh pet, you were such a tender delicious morsel back then, and many a time
I simply wanted to just gobble you up right there on the spot. But I wanted
you for all time, and not for just one horny craving moment. So I remained
true to the plan, knowing that in the end you would be mine forever."

Beth could not believe her ears. Katherine was mad! Totally, stark raving
mad! She had once thought that Tonya was the insane one and Katherine her
savior, mentor and friend. But once again, she found herself in error. It
was Katherine all along who was the devil incarnate. Tonya was just her
demon disciple. And here she was, alone, frightened and held captive in the
lair of a lunatic. A psychotic of the N'th degree that wanted her as a sex
slave. A living, breathing object for her own personal use, without her
consent! Katherine was mad all right, but Beth was completely helpless to
do anything about it.

"I was so amazed at how easy it was to keep you under my thumb pet. Each
time you wanted to call it quits, I was able to talk you out of it. I guess
I owe it all to my extraordinary managerial skills. The tools of my trade
if you will. And the one I concentrated on the most was the carrot and
stick approach.

I dangled the carrot of a wonderful executive position in California if you
stayed true to your role while using the stick of losing everything that
you had worked so hard for and having to deal with Paul for the rest of
your life if you didn't. It worked out so well that I began to wonder if
you might be acclimatizing to your role too easily. As if you perhaps
enjoyed it. That's when I decided to add a few more obstructions, besides
Paul, just to see if there might be a part of you that actually wanted to
be dominated.

I presented the idea to have your long brunette hair, your feminine pride
and joy, the most precious part of a woman's unique identity, to be cut
short and dyed blonde, and you complied. I admit, you were a bit reluctant,
but you still went through with it.

Then I pushed the envelope and had you appear in public half naked and
without underwear. There you willingly followed my orders with little
resistance just like a good little slave girl should.

I set up all the conditions for you to be arrested by those two lady cops,
who by the way I paid handsomely, and to be taken to the jail house. I even
provided that special breakable and inflatable gag and those ill
functioning cuffs as well.

Having you experience Tonya, and her bizarre play toy, in that jail cell
was not a random event either. Tonya told me how you reacted to her rather
unusual seductive powers. She is one amazing woman that Tonya, and very
tasty I might add."

The knot that was forming in Beth's belly was getting bigger and tighter
with each unbelievable revealed deception that Katherine told her.

"Christine's presence was a wild card and a total surprise for me. I was
the one who was suppose to deal with those lady cops myself in getting you
freed. Nothing outlandish you understand, just more threats of a possible
police record if they caught you there on the corner again. I of course
would promise the officers to watch you more closely and see to it that
nothing liked that ever happened again. But, it didn't work out quite that
way.

When I over heard the two of you talking in that interrogation room I
thought it was all over with. I must say though, Christine did have it in
for you pet. And all I could do was play it by ear and hope my years of
thinking on my feet in the business world would pay off. And it certainly
did! Several times I wanted to either burst out laughing or take you right
there in the room with Christine watching. But again, I stayed true to the
plan.

Oh, in case you didn't know, it was I who came up with the idea of those
three documents and having you sign them in front of a real judge, not
Christine. She was all ready to let you go after she spanked your butt to
no end. But I saw another opportunity to tighten my grip around you and
went for it. The outcome was nothing short of outstanding! Maybe you were
destined by fate to be mine after all pet."

Katherine began stroking Beth's bald head with her finger tips and then
kissed her lightly on her nose.

Beth was once again thrown for a loop. Christine was right after all. It
wasn't her college nemesis, it was her mentor, savior and dear friend who
had sold her down the proverbial river.

Beth closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks. She had faithfully
played the loyal devoted friend to Katherine, and was bitterly betrayed as
a result. How could she have been such a blind fool in hindsight. She was
only now beginning to see how badly off she really was.

"Ohh, don't cry pet," Katherine said with a mock compassion as she wiped
away Beth's tears with a soft frilly handkerchief.

"You know you want this."

Beth opened her eyes wide and glared at Katherine as if to proclaim in
open rebellion, 'I most certainly do NOT, you crazy fucked up bitch!'

Katherine read the look that Beth shot at her.

"Oh? So you continue to deny it then. Well, what about when I suggested
that I cut all your hair off, or have your nipples and pussy lips pierced?
Oh excuse me. I mean just your nipples pierced. Again, I lied about that
too, but I knew you wouldn't mind."

Katherine smiled and giggled to herself after that last comment. She knew
Beth would have balked at the suggestion of having both her nipples and
pussy lips pierced. So instead of telling Beth, and getting her consent,
she just took advantage of the situation for her own gain.

"Oh yes, MY PET. There is a part of you that wants to be dominated, whether
you want to admit it or not. But it is kind of strange though. If you never
met me, you would have probably become a very successful businesswoman. You
would have married a nice successful man, have a couple of kids, and, in
all honesty, have a very comfortable and rewarding vanilla life. But you
did meet me, and your destiny has been changed because of it.

Even if the plan was as I presented it to you with Paul leaving you and you
coming to California as my right hand executive, I doubt you would be able
to live a vanilla life from then on. Having gone through all those
D/s situations has released something deep inside of you. Once you were in
California you would feel an aching desire, a virtual need, to experience
them again, and again, and again.

You probably would end up having a lesbian affair, or two, or marrying some
guy who would dominate you in the privacy of your home, or perhaps both.
You would have ended up living a double life. By day, an aggressive,
competent and successful executive. And by night, someone's submissive
fetish sex toy. It would not be easy for you, but you would find it a very
satisfying lifestyle. That is if you could pull it off."

Hearing those words Beth felt a twinge of truth run through her soul. But
her head overruled her feelings and once more she focused her anger on
Katherine and her fear of what her future was to be.

"But there is no executive position for you in California, MY PET! Oh you
will be coming to the West coast with me for sure. And I will have a new
position for you there as well. But it will not be in business. It will be
in the privacy of my very own home. I bought a remote estate not too far
from the corporate office. You will remain there and continue to be my
lesbian bimbo slave girl. You will do all the domestic duties of a maid,
plus be my very own sex doll and intimate lover.

Oh yes pet. You will give me oral pleasure for my sweet tender pussy. Up
till now, that part of your training has been sadly lacking. I didn't want
to risk losing you by pushing you into doing that. But now that your
situation has changed, I am going to enjoy making a first class pussy
licker out of you. I know, I know. You will fight me tooth and nail all the
way. But sooner or later you will come to heel like all well trained house
pets do. You will accept your fate as my slave just like Cynthia accepted
hers as Tonya's Thing.

Now don't you worry pet. I will not transform you into such a surreal
object as Tonya did to Cynthia. But there will be some cosmetic changes
that you will have to accept. Those you will find out when the time comes,
in the not too distant future that is.

However, I will say this. The person that you were, the unique young woman
who once called herself Beth Jenson, will no longer be a viable entity. In
fact, as of this moment, Beth Jenson is no more. I am aware that you know
otherwise, but that is changing even as I speak. The power of attorney that
you signed over to me allowed me to liquidate all your possessions.
Everything you had in storage has now either been sold off or given away.
You own nothing, not even your most precious heartfelt mementos. They are
all gone.

Even all those people who once knew you as Beth Jenson, your dearest
friends, your worst enemies, all your work cohorts, vendors and bosses have
bared witnessed to your change in identity. They have even signed an
affidavit to this fact. Just one of several legal documents that you also
signed in declaring yourself as a die-hard lesbian to the world.

And the final coup d'etat was that mysterious third paper you signed,
without reading it, before the judge. That third document was for a name
change my sweet. Even legally you are no longer Beth Jenson. Your new name
will fit your new personality, your new look, and your new identity to a
tee. From this moment on Beth Jenson ceases to be. But today, a new slave
girl is born, and her name is Candi.

So sweet to the taste as a peppermint candy stick. So pretty in pink like a
cotton candy treat. And as dumb, but satisfying, as a piece of delicious
long lasting hard rock candy. That will be you my pet, my slave, my Candi.
And I will do everything in my power to see to it that you stay that way
too, forever and ever."

Katherine picked up the black silk cloth and used it again as a blindfold
around Beth's, now Candi's, terror stricken eyes.

"It is late now Candi and we have a big day tomorrow. Tomorrow is moving
day and we must get you ready for our trip to California."

Katherine kissed Beth on her nose, said goodnight and walked to her bedroom
where a frilly dressed Tonya waited eagerly for a night of hot burning
love.

Beth was beyond shock. In her dark, numbing bound, speechless state she
thought that it might be a dream. A vivid gruesome nightmare that she only
needed to wake up from like she seen in the movies. But the persistent pain
in her nipples and pussy lips were telling her otherwise.

Her feelings were running rampant. One minute, she was full of self-pity.
The next, of mind numbing horror at the thought of what Katherine planned
on doing to her. And finally, with anger as it gushed out in waves from her
rigidly bound body at how Katherine betrayed her most precious gift to her,
her trust.

She fought the straps and gag with all her might trying desperately to
escape. But all they did were to creak in place. Time and time again her
anger fueled the energy she needed to fight the straps. But with each
corresponding failure, she fell into a deeper state of misery. She was
about to try again when all of a sudden she felt something soft and wet on
her pussy lips.

It startled her at first, but then it began to feel good. Her mind searched
for understanding while her body was bathed in the erotic pleasure of being
fondled down there.

'What is going on? And who is doing this?' She thought to herself. And when
she realized the "what", she immediately knew the "who". The "what" was a
tongue that was bathing her pussy in warm sensuous pleasure. A tongue that
was articulate, experienced and could reach all the way up inside of her,
far enough to tickle her very cervix. It was THING!

Her mind wanted to turn away from this, to push Thing away from her. She
was not a lesbian. She had no sexual interest in women, or to be pleased by
another woman either. But her bound and excited body would not allow her
mind to dominate or control her response. The more Thing's tongue danced
around her salivating pussy, the more Beth accepted and allowed herself to
experience the pleasure of Thing's talented tongue on her aching craving
love nest.

It wasn't long before Beth was riding her first intense orgasm as Candi,
the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine. The first of many for
that night, courtesy of Thing and Candi's new owner, Mistress Katherine.

**************************************************************************

Part 13 - "Packaged for Perdition"

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                  "Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"


                               by Musker

                     and edited with choice additions

                            by Ms. Anne Gray


              Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.


                               (part 13)


                       "Packaged for Perdition"

Katherine took the glass of wine from the stewardess. The corporate jet had
been flying for only a few minutes, but the plane ride promised to be a
pleasant one. The seats were spacious, reclining and very comfortable.
There was even room for a few top executives to have their luggage right
there next to them, similar to the size and shape of a compact steamer
trunk like Katherine's. Hers however, was resting upright and directly in
front of her.

Just before take off a fight attendant asked her if she might be more
comfortable if her trunk was perhaps moved to the rear of the plane. But
Katherine just smiled back and said no. She told them that something very
special was inside and she wanted to keep it near to her at all times. So
the black obelisk, with its shiny steel reinforced edges, it's two heavy-
duty latches and it's massive centered keyed padlocks was left alone,
except for Katherine's nylon clad foot. That she used to casually rub up
and down the side of the trunk as though she was stroking the tender flesh
of a cherished lover.

Inside the formidably locked container was her most dearest possession,
Candi. Katherine settled herself warmly into the comfy chair and took a sip
of her drink as pleasant memories of that morning came back to her.

Katherine knew Candi would not put up much of a fight, since she had spent
the entire night severely bound and gagged to the vertical post. She also
knew, from personal experience, that having one fantastic orgasm after
another via Thing's most talented tongue was another reason for not getting
any rest. So when it came time to release her, Katherine knew Candi would
be hard pressed to simply stand up, let alone resist what was going to
happen next.

Both Katherine and Tonya removed all of Candi's bondage, except for her
strapped in sponge gag and then added a dog collar and leash. As Katherine
lead her new slave girl to the bathroom by this humiliating tether, Tonya
did her best to help support Candi from behind by using her crop on her
delicious butt whenever she faltered.

Once, when Candi's arms regained a modest degree of feeling and control,
she tried to remove her gag. But Katherine quickly slapped her hands away.
Then her Mistress reached out and grasped both of her slave's recently
installed nipple rings and pulled up on them hard. She command her slave
not to do that again, and then threatened her that things could get much
worst if she didn't obey. The dear compassionate friend that was once
Beth's boss was no more.

Poor Beth was so exhausted, both physically and mentally, that she simply
surrendered to the situation with only a single tear running down her cheek
as evidence to her passive reluctance.

Katherine put her drink off to the side and reached into her purse for some
pictures. She wanted something more concrete than her memories to help her
re-live that wonderful morning when she and Tonya prepared her lesbian
bimbo sex slave for her "unique" traveling experience.

The first snapshot was of her precious Candi resting on all fours in the
bathtub. Her leash was tied up short to a ring in the tile wall and in her
butt was a large nozzle with a tube running from it. It ran to a fairly
large bag hanging from the shower rod.

Katherine was virtually beaming, so thoroughly content with herself, after
looking at the next picture of bald headed pet looking into the camera with
such sad beseeching eyes. She remembered how steadfast Beth was in not
wanting to look into the camera. But a few hard smacks on her behind,
compliments of Tonya and her crop, demonstrated to Candi that any
resistance on her part was now futile. Katherine looked very close at the
picture and swore she could see part of Candi's glowing red butt there in
the photo.

The following picture showed Candi all lathered up with soap. She and Tonya
had so much fun washing her pet while she was still on all fours in the
tub. Katherine remembered rubbing her hands all over her wet soapy pet's
body with particular attention directed to the breast and pussy areas. She
felt that Candi liked being massaged like this, but doubted that Beth would
ever admit to it. At least not until she had been thoroughly indoctrinated
into her new Candi persona.

Tonya took the next picture of Candi standing outside of the tub. She
looked so forlorn with her head bowed down and her hands in front of her
trying to cover up her ringed nipples and pussy. Katherine could see that
the enema bag was now empty and she could even make out a slight distension
in Candi's stomach from having all that warm cleansing solution drained
into her. She remembered with delight how she and Tonya kept rubbing
Candi's ballooned tummy commenting on how much of a slut she was for
getting pregnant like this.

Katherine closed her eyes and held the stack of pictures close to her
chest. She started to dream of how much fun she was going to have playing
with her slave girl like this in California. But her day dreams were short
live, as a great desire built up inside of her to go on to the next
picture.

She pulled the set of pictures from her body and took the top picture off
the deck and placed it on the bottom. Immediately Katherine saw Candi
sitting on the toilet. The dog leash was fastened behind her now to another
ring in the wall just above the toilet's water tank. It was pulled very
taut causing Candi to remain on the seat and arching her back backwards
with her bald head almost touching the wall behind her. She could not see
it, but she remembered how Tonya fasten Candi's thumbs to her opposite
nipple rings with a couple of twist ties. This arrangement prevented her
slave from escaping her current position on the toilet or to remove her gag
when they left her alone to relieve herself.

A soft giggle escaped Katherine's lips as she quickly saw the next picture
in queue. This one showed her pet bent over with her hands resting on the
edge of the bathtub and her butt sticking up in the air. Her legs were
spread wide apart and held straight. They had kept her like this as they
cleaned around her butt hole and then lubricated both her butt and pussy
orifices.

Katherine thought she could still hear the faint little moans and whimpers
from her pet during this intimate invasion. But in retrospect, a thought
did crossed her mind. She wondered if those sounds were related to Tonya's
and her prolonged diddling of her two holes, or, if her dear sweet Candi
was smart enough to figure out why they were greasing her up to begin with.
Either way, it did not matter now.

She began to squirm like a complacent cat in the plane's captain's chair
when she relived the next tender Kodak moment. This picture was of a ghost.
A ghost with big brown puppy dog eyes and shiny metal rings. Candi had
talcum powder rubbed all over her body making her look like a macabre
erotic aberration from the dead. Prior to dusting her pet, Katherine had
removed the dog collar and took off the strap that forced the nerf ball gag
in, but she still left the sponge inside her pet's widely stretched mouth.
She commanded her slave not to touch the gag, and poor tired depressed Beth
did as she was told without a single sign of rebellion.

Katherine's eyes grew full and her mouth made a sensuous "ouuu" sound as
she saw the next picture in the series. Her pet, her beautiful Candi, was a
glowing vision of hot fluorescent pink. From the top of her bald head right
on down to the tip of her big toe, Katherine's slave was encapsulated in
tight, bubble gum pink, latex. The only openings were in the form of a
series of well-placed holes. Two of which were for her distressed, pleading
eyes. Two more tiny ones, air holes, under her cute pixie shaped nose. A
small oval opening for her mouth, still packed to it's fullest with that
sponge gag. A couple more little openings for her ringed nipples to poke
through. And finally, two strategically placed holes for her well lubed
butt and pussy holes.

She had fond memories of putting her pet into that glaring pink cat suit as
she gently stroked the image of Candi. In the picture her pet was standing
alone, her arms at her sides and she was staring wide-eyed into the camera.
Katherine remembered how easy the talcum powder made it for Tonya and
herself to slip Candi's limp form into that tight body suit. The flowing
curves of her pet's legs seem to take on a more dramatic appearance once
the pink colored material encased them. Her arms flowed so easily into the
long gloves that ended with her hands formed into dainty doll like pods.
The major challenge of the garment was working it around Candi's torso. The
stretchy tightness of the latex made positioning the body openings in just
the right spots a very formidable and quite exhausting task, almost to the
point of taking the joy out of encasing her pretty pink pet. But together,
Tonya and herself were able to grasp, pull and push Candi's soft feminine
body into the correct places and then zip it closed in back. From the crack
of her butt, all the way up to the base of her pretty slave's neck.

The last piece of her outfit was the hood. Katherine could understand the
futile resistance Candi put up when they began tugging and molding the hood
into place. But a few quick jerks on her slave's nipple rings soon put her
Candi back into her whimpering submissive mode.

The final part was putting a nice shine to the latex. Both she and Tonya
had so much fun buffing and rubbing her statuesque display dummy to a
brilliant pink shiny luster, the result of which, was the fantastic erotic
image there in the photo before her.

Katherine pulled down a small serving tray to place the next four pictures
upon it. She wanted to experience the full effect of seeing her pride and
joy being put into those custom-made leather restraints one more time.

The first showed Candi wearing a black leather corset. She and Tonya had to
take turns in drawing the laces tightly through those industrial strength
grommets until the edges of the corset met in back. But the effect on Candi
was awesome. Her waist was reduced significantly and the corset enhanced
her natural hourglass shape into looking positively wasp like.

The second picture was a back view of Candi wearing a single glove. It
covered her arms from the end of her pink pod shaped hands to just below
her shoulders. It too had laces that needed to be pulled and knotted
tightly as it constricted her arms together into one python like grip.

The third picture was a head and neck shot. Candi was wearing a unique
posture collar and a blow up gag. Katherine reminisced with great joy as
she watched Tonya fit those specially designed bondage devices to her
decorated pink and increasing black slave girl.

The first thing Tonya did was to remove that enormous nerf ball from
Candi's mouth. Katherine was chuckling now, just as she did back then, at
how Tonya had to grasp the little bit that stuck out and began pulling, and
shaking, and forcing poor Candi's head this way, and that way, and finally
plucked that damn thing out.

When it did come out, Candi's mouth just hung wide open as if she were
unable to close it. She knew what kept her pet's mouth open. It was the
intense muscle pain in trying to close it that kept her looking like a
hungry little birdie beckoning to be fed.

Just as Tonya was about to place her personally designed gag into Candi's
receptive oral cavity both women heard a single muttered word, "Mercy". But
Katherine had no sympathy for who and what her pet used to be. All she
cared about was Candi, her new human bondage sex doll. Tonya looked at
Katherine with an inquiring look and Katherine only smiled and nodded her
head once. Tonya then forced the new gag into Candi's groaning mouth, post
haste.

The gag was wedged shaped in design, and made out of black rubber. There
were two grooves in it so Candi's teeth would fit into them. A small
diameter hose that ended in a squeeze ball was connected to the front side
of the wedge, right next to a hollow tube that ran dead center through it.
As Tonya pumped the ball, the wedge expanded and force Candi's jaws apart.
But Tonya only squeezed the ball a few times just so the wedge would seat
properly and hold itself in Candi's mouth.

Tonya then took what looked like a cross between a well shaped neck brace
and a very small corset. It was wrapped around Candi's neck and fastened
with the clasps in front. The bottom and top edges were lightly padded and
conformed to the top of Candi's shoulders as well as the base of her skull
and under her jaw. Tonya went behind Candi and began tightening up the
laces just like on her corset. But instead of squeezing Candi's neck, it
forced her neck to stretch lengthwise, and in so doing held her head
immobile and facing straight forwards. When Tonya was done Candi could not
move her head at all while still being able to breathe freely.

Tonya then walked in front and began pumping on the wedged gag again. Both
Tonya and Katherine watched eagerly as Candi's lower jaw was forced deeply
against the posture collar. Then they giggled like schoolgirls as Candi
cheeks ballooned out like a hamster's cheek pouch loaded with food.
Finally, Tonya ceased her pumping and disconnected the hose from the wedge.
Both women were ogling Candi like some strange freak in a circus. Her eyes,
like her cheeks, seemed ready to burst out. Her head was this electric pink
dome sitting on top of a black leather pedestal and her mouth was drawn
out in a kind of weird, black, open mouthed grin.

There was a strap on the back of the collar that attached to the single
glove which made it impossible for it to slide off Candi's arms now.
Katherine lingered on this one photo almost to the point of being
mesmerized by the surreal image it contained.

The final picture of this series was of Candi and Tonya together. Tonya was
standing behind a staunchly erect Candi with her hands around Candi's
minute waist, as if trying to hold her in place. In the picture Tonya was
smiling and trying to peek around Candi as if attempting to see her face,
but was only able to view her profile. Candi on the other hand wasn't
moving at all. In fact, she was very intent on remaining upright,
especially with those shiny black boots she was forced to wear.

Katherine looked upon the photo with more fond memories of how she and
Tonya each laced Candi's lower legs into a pair of knee high ballerina
boots. They each took one boot and fastened one of Candi's legs into it.
She remembered how they would talk back and forth to one another about all
sorts of things. They purposely remained completely oblivious to Candi's
agonized condition while they casually threaded and tightened the laces
through the many eyeholes until they were finished. At that time, they each
took hold of Candi and helped her to stand up, en pointe. It was difficult
at first. Candi wanted to bend her knees and fall to the ground. But Tonya
held her fast around the waist while Katherine pulled Candi upright by her
nipple rings. Soon Candi got the point and was able to balance on her toes
and pin-point heels. That's when Katherine took the picture she was
gloating over right now.

Katherine spent a lot of time looking over those last four photos before
moving on to the next one. Which was another one she loved to look at. It
showed Candi kneeling erect on a small square padded dolly. One could not
see it from the picture, but what kept Candi kneeling so straight was a
pole from the center base of the dolly extending up and into her crotch. It
was an abbreviated version of Thing's perch. Instead of the ascetic full
crescent shaped saddle, this one had a small, short piece of curved metal
plate welded to the top of metal pole. A plate that also had a pair of
monstrous dildos attached rigidly to it, just like Thing's did.

After the dildos were worked a good deal into Candi's slippery holes, a
function that both women enjoyed immensely while Beth didn't, Tonya pulled
on a hidden lever in the base of the dolly. Just like on Thing's perch,
when it was pushed, it caused the pipe to rise upward. Tonya continued to
pumped it until Candi's knees just barely rested on the padded base. Then
two black leather straps, that were attached to the front of the plate,
were routed over Candi's flaring hips and back down between the crack of
her butt before being buckled tightly to another set of mated straps
waiting for them on the other side of the metal plate. This arrangement
kept Candi's pelvic area firmly planted in one unmovable spot while at the
same time keeping her plugged to her fullest capacity.

Another strap was used around Candi's legs just above her knees until the
metal pole disappeared completely into the flesh of her tightly squeezed
together pink thighs. Katherine used a second long strap to fold Candi's
lower legs tightly into the backs of her upper thighs, and in the process,
force the needle points of her heels into her tender pink butt cheeks.

Katherine used one final wide leather strap with four metal rings dangling
from it. It was wrapped around Candi's waist and her single glove before
being firmly buckled in front. This belt forced Candi's arms into her back,
which in turn prevented them from thrashing about behind her. Katherine
stared at this picture for a very long time. For at this point, Candi was a
taut, solid and kneeling form, fully plugged in all three orifices, and
ready for shipping.

Katherine leaned back into her chair, closed her eyes and watched in her
mind's eye at how much fun Tonya and she had playing with Candi like this.
Both women would go to opposite ends of the room and took turns pushing
Candi back and forth across her wooden floor on the wheeled dolly. She
wished she had a picture, or a video of this. Of how a wide eyed fearful
Candi flowed across the floor on her roller-skated platform. They would
even spin Candi around in circles as she whooshed across the smooth floor.
Tonya and her had so much fun at Candi's expense that it made her feel like
a kid again. Katherine was one of those people who was born with a natural
dominant streak running through her, as many a school friend would sadly
attest to.

Time was getting short about then. So both women wheeled Candi into the
open steamer trunk. There were clips and latches on the dolly and in the
base of the trunk so that once they were fastened and locked together, the
trunk, the dolly and Candi would be one solid unit.

Four straps hung from the inner sides of the trunk and were used with the
corresponding four rings on Candi's waist belt to further anchor her in
place. They were necessary to keep Candi safe and from being bounced about
in her exquisite traveling accommodations for no doubt the trunk would be
moved and jostled about quite roughly in transit. The picture that
Katherine was looking at now showed a bugged eyed Candi securely fastened
inside a very close fitting, sound proof, shipping trunk.

The next and final picture was of Candi in the trunk, but with a few added
accessories. A tube ran from the center hole in her gag to a bag filled
with liquid hanging from the back top corner of the trunk. Since the trip
would take several hours and she didn't want her new possession to become
dehydrated, Katherine arranged for a liquid to slowly drip into the back of
Candi's throat. This liquid had a mild muscle relaxant to it, so Candi
would not suffer from any muscle cramps while on her journey. It also
contained a mental stimulant to keep her awake and conscious so she did not
choke on the liquid either.

On Candi's head was a kind of headphone harness, so that soothing music, as
well as a subliminal message, would be constantly playing for her.

A high energy battery pack was attached to the base of the dolly that
activated the dildos inside of Candi's two lower orifices. Their activation
was done either automatically, by a simple little electronic device inside
the dolly, or by a remote wireless control. The dildos were capable of
vibrating, rotating and of producing a mild electric shock if one so
desired.

The final addition were two small tear shaped weights that hung from short
metal chains. The other ends of these chains had a clip that had been
attached to Candi's nipple rings. The weights were not there to simply
cause Candi a good degree of waking discomfort, but to also remind her of
something.

Each time Candi was moved or jostled around, the excess pull on her
sensitive pierced nipples was to remind her that she was well on her way to
a new place, a new life style and a new destiny. That being the lesbian
bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine. And possibly, what was even more
important, just how powerless she was in doing anything to stop it.

Shortly after the addition of the nipple weights and before the trunk lid
was closed, latched and locked tight, they strapped in a small oxygen
canister and turned it on to a slow flow. It was simply an extra added
feature of reassurance for a nice safe trip.

The lid was then closed and three big stickers were placed on the top and
two sides saying, "This End UP", "FRAGILE!" and "Handle With Care." Candi
was all packed up and ready to be shipped to California, just like
Katherine had promised her. Albeit not quite in the same manner that Beth
thought she would be going in.

Katherine made sure that she was always in eyesight of her special package.
Many times she would chuckle to herself as she watched baggage handlers
moving, bumping and bouncing her black steamer trunk all over the place.
She wondered, with excitement, as to what such aggressive activity was
doing to her poor pet's recently ringed and weighted nipples. But Katherine
was not a totally heartless Mistress, as she saw herself. For during those
trying moving times, she took pity on her slave and used her remote control
to give those two dildos a little extra activity for poor Candi's sake. A
little electric jolt can easily change one's area of awareness quite
quickly.

But now, Katherine was here on the corporate jet, sipping her wine and
playing footsy with her very special luggage. She looked out the plane's
window as her mind drifted to California and what she had planned for her
new sex doll there.

Katherine would not take Candi straight home. She had set up an appointment
with a "special" person that Tonya used to help turn Cynthia into Thing. Oh
she was not going to make such radical changes in Candi like Tonya did with
Cynthia. But she did want some modifications done to her property to suit
her own personal tastes.

To start, she wanted some enhancement to Candi's face. She wanted Candi's
eyes to be bigger. A kind of Doe eyed look, like a precious little brown
eyed puppy dog. It would make her look so much more like the empty airhead
that her Candi persona was to develop into.

Next, her lips needed to be made bigger. Katherine enjoyed the feel of
Tonya's luscious full ripen lips on her own sensuous body. Nothing gaudy
though, just more voluptuous then they already were.

Katherine also wanted Candi's tongue lengthened. She just loved how
articulated and talented Thing's had become in orally pleasing her, and
that is what she wanted for Candi. But there was a catch that she needed to
talk with that "special" person about. She didn't want Candi's tongue so
long as to make her totally incapable of understandable speech, like Thing
was.

However, if there was a trade off, maybe they could limit it somehow.
After all, Candi was just a bimbo slave girl now. So she was not expected
to give long-winded business speeches or use multi-syllable words any more.
In fact, Katherine was becoming excited over an idea of training Candi to
use short sentences of mostly single syllable words. But she would have to
play that part by ear though, for she had no idea as to how limited she
wanted her bimbo slave girl's vocabulary to become.

The next modification would be to Candi's breasts. Her "C" cup was nice,
but Katherine wanted more. The tight corsets did pump them up to an
impressive "D", but soon Candi's figure would not need such severe
corseting and her breasts would go back to the unacceptable "C". Katherine
knew she wanted them to be made bigger. She was just undecided as to
whether to make them a "D" or "DD". She didn't want to go through all the
trouble of making them into a "DD" and later find out that what she really
wanted was a simple pair of "D's".

Maybe she could have them inject Candi with the serum to make them into a
"D" cup first, then give her a drug to make her lactate, thus turning her
"D" cup into a "DD".

Then Katherine's evil mind hit upon an insidious idea. An idea that would
not only give Candi the breast size that she desired, but also add
tremendously to Candi's training in making Beth accept her new identity
completely.

Katherine's idea was to turn Candi into a cow. A cow named Buttercup. While
they were working on Candi's modification she could get things ready for
her pet's transformation into a dairy cow. Oh it wouldn't be forever, just
a few days, maybe even a week or two tops. Just long enough until Beth
fully understood that she was no longer in control of her life, and was no
longer who she once was.

Katherine would have a cow suit made up for her. It would be made of white
spandex with big black splotches on it. She would have a special white and
black open faced hood made up with big cow's ears on it. She knew some
people who could make her a special collar for her sweet Buttercup as well.
It would be like one of those no barking dog collars. Each time Candi tried
to speak, she would get a bad shock. The only sounds she would be able to
make would be those of a cow, a mooing sound.

Katherine would even get Candi a big cowbell to hang from her collar that
would clang each time she moved around on all fours. She would have special
cow hoofs made for her hands that couldn't be taken off except with a
special key. On her feet would be those ballerina style knee high boots,
also in the white and black cow pattern. Her lower and upper legs would be
bound together so she would be forced to walk on her padded knees. And a
butt plug would be use to hang a cow's tail from it.

Once Katherine had Candi looking like a dairy cow, she would tell her that
if she didn't accept her role as Candi, then she would become Buttercup
forever, and the temporary changes that she had made for her to look like a
cow would become permanent. The choice would be up to her. And her current
condition would be a test. The quicker she submitted to and acted like a
cow named Buttercup, the quicker she would go back to being Mistress
Katherine's bimbo slave girl Candi.

Katherine was squirming with excitement just thinking about how complete
she would make Buttercup's reality. She would have a little stable made for
her with straw and such. She would feed her a sparing diet of vegetables
and grain. She would even exercise her on a treadmill to keep her in good
health and in shape. She would force her to defecate like an animal as
well, outside. When the lactation drug took effect, she would even milk her
just like a cow. That ought to be the straw that broke the camel's back!
Imagine seeing those special mechanical milking cups sucking milk from her
bovine sized udders each and every day that her Mistress decides to keep
her as Buttercup.

To make it all the more humiliating for her, and adding to her Candi
personality, Katherine would have Buttercup's pussy stimulated each time
she was milked. Soon she would be trained to become sexually aroused, and
then to orgasm, each time someone played with her breasts or treated her as
something less than human.

After Candi plateaus out as Buttercup, Katherine would finally give her a
choice. Remain forever as Buttercup, or become Candi. Of course Beth will
choose to be Candi, even if it meant that she would become her Mistress's
lesbian bimbo sex slave for the rest of her life. Katherine reasoned that
being a partial human would be far more preferable than a stupid cow named
Buttercup any day.

And once Beth makes that choice, then she would have an loyal obedient
slave girl to mold as however she wished. It would only be a matter of time
after that, when the Candi persona became a complete and integrated entity
of her slave's entire existence.

Yes, that's how she will do it. She will use the carrot and stick method
again, pain and pleasure. She will use emotional and physical pain to
direct her pet away from what she does "not" want her to become, and use
pleasure to make her slave become what she "does" want her to become. She
was going to have Candi so sexually frustrated that she will perform or
become anything that her Mistress wanted, just to have an orgasm. That's
when she will have her Candi for good and all.

Katherine, Mistress Katherine, was going to make Candi love her. She was
going to nurture Candi's lesbian desires, her bimbo traits, and her overall
total slave personality with relentless fortitude. Then, once Mistress
Katherine became the center of Candi's universe, her very reason for living
with loyal undying love, Beth would be no more. Just like Cynthia was no
more. On that day, Beth would truly cease to exist. And from the ashes,
like the great Phoenix, will arise Candi, the lesbian bimbo slave girl of
Mistress Katherine, permanently.

Katherine gently closed her eyes and slowly fell asleep. Her foot still up
against the black trunk. And inside the trunk was Candi. A bound, pierced,
plugged, hurting and sexually frustrated victim, with liquid that she could
not stop slowly dripping down her ever conscious, sleep deprived, throat.
And all the while a message, that she could barely hear, woven into the
music, repeating itself, over and over and over again like a mantra.

"I am Candi, the lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine. I live to
serve and bring pleasure to my Mistress. I am a sex doll to be dressed as
my Mistress likes and to bring her to orgasm whenever she desires. I have
no mind of my own. I cannot remember facts, figures or dates. I am a bimbo,
an airhead, a pet, a slave. My tits, my ass, my pussy, my mouth, all belong
to my Mistress, and she can use them however she wants. I am a lesbian. I
am a bimbo. I am a slave. I am Candi. And Mistress Katherine is my owner."


                              - The End -


Addendum?

     Within the trunk, deep within the severely bound and impaled form of
the poor soul who had once been called Beth Jenson, a tiny flame flickered.
It came into existence as a result of being so bitterly betrayed by the one
she trusted the most. Her drug induced stimulated mind embraced that tiny
flame and created a single conscious thought from it. Despite the ever
present murmuring voice in her ears, despite the constant pain throughout
her wretched body and despite the intense emotional roller coaster ride she
had experienced in the last few hours, the thought took root.

     The tiny flickering flame began to grow, and as it grew, the thought
became a solemn oath. An oath that quickly became a new, stronger and
overriding mantra composed of only three simple words. A phrase so easy to
remember because it was the antithesis of her life now, that is, until her
time came, and come it would!

    The three words that were being burned into her psyche, into her life
force, into her very soul, were "Freedom and Revenge!"

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