Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
Good Help is Hard to Find
by Bob Bond
bobbond99@gmail.com
© Copyright 2007 - Bob Bond - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; bond; latex; leather; sleepsack; chast; toys; nc; X
Google translation
Good Help is Hard to Find by Bob Bond F/f; bond; latex; leather; sleepsack; chast; toys; nc; X
 

1) Interview with a Mistress

Sarah pulled up in her car with some trepidation. She checked the address again; yes, this was the right number. She had been expecting somewhere nice, after all the ad had been for a maid and only someone very well off could afford a maid, but this place was a mansion with grounds surrounded by a imposing wall.

Sarah was a pretty, slim girl of 18 with blonde hair that fell half way down her back. She wasn’t sure how she felt about applying for a maid’s position. The whole idea of maids seemed a bit anachronistic. But Sarah knew she needed money if she was going to apply for college next year since she wasn’t eligible for a scholarship and this position paid surprisingly well.

Still, she consoled herself, if the job turned out to be too unpleasant, she could always quit and try waitressing, although that would take considerably longer to save enough. But she chided herself, she couldn’t afford to waste time wool gathering. She hadn’t got the job yet and she wouldn’t, dawdling around out here, so nothing ventured, nothing gained. Sarah smoothed her skirt one last time. She really wasn’t sure what should one wear when applying to be a maid. She was aiming for neat and professional looking, although the result was actually somewhat on the dowdy side.

With that she drove up to the gate and pressed the buzzer. After a short wait, a cool refined woman’s voice enquired, “Yes, what is it?”

“Err hi, this is Sarah Michaels, I’m here about the maids position,” Sarah managed to get out.

“Come through to the house,” the voice ordered abruptly and with that the gate began to swing open. No sooner had Sarah managed to get her car through the gates than they swung shut again, meeting with a decisive clang. The level of security seemed a little over the top to Sarah. She didn’t fancy anyone’s chances of breaking into (or out of) this place.

Sarah parked her car and made her way up the stairs to the impressive front door. Just as she was about to knock, it swung open. Standing inside was an attractive brunette a little older and a little taller than Sarah. She was wearing a cream silk shirt over a black pencil skirt, black knee boots with a surprisingly high heel and had a silk scarf tied elegantly at her neck. Sarah was surprised. She had been expecting someone much older. Young people didn’t hire maids did they? But she had to admit the outfit gave the woman an elegant presence that Sarah envied. But how did she walk in those heels? Sarah felt unsteady in even 2 inch heels.

“Well, don’t just stand there, come on through,” the woman snapped as she strode away leaving Sarah to struggle with the door. Sarah managed to get the door shut and hesitantly headed off in the direction the woman had gone. Walking down the hall, she couldn’t help but notice the pictures hanging on either side. They appeared to be drawings of women in scanty clothing tied up in various ways. They were quite artistically done, a kind of bondage art deco, but still, who hung that kind of thing in their main foyer?

Continuing on, Sarah soon spotted the woman in what appeared to be a drawing room. She was seated in a comfortably upholstered leather chair, but the only other chair in the room was a rather uncomfortable looking straight-backed wooden chair. After looking around in vain for an alternative, Sarah hesitantly settled herself on the wooden chair.

The woman looked her up and down critically. “My name is Monica. As you have probably gathered, I am looking for a maid. Why don’t you fill out this form, then tell me a bit about yourself and why you want the job.”

Sarah quickly filled the form out. It was mostly contact details, address etc.  It asked for name of landlord as a reference and parents as next of kin. Sarah thought this was a bit odd for a simple maid’s position but filled it out anyway. Then, feeling a bit like a schoolgirl being examined by a teacher, she hesitantly began to explain how she came to be here, led on by occasional questions from Monica. When Sarah mentioned that she had only recently come to the city from a small rural town hoping to go to college next year, Monica couldn’t keep a gleam of anticipation from her eyes. It was beginning to look like Sarah might be just the sort of person she was looking for.

“So what do your friends or roommates think about the idea of your starting work as a maid?” Monica enquired nonchalantly.

“Oh, I haven’t mentioned it to anyone,” Sarah replied. “And I don’t have any roommates, I have a small apartment by myself.  To tell you the truth, I’m a bit embarrassed about the idea of being a maid, but I expect I’ll get used to the idea quickly enough.”

“Oh, I think you will be surprised just how quickly you adjust to the position. I accept nothing less, ” replied Monica cryptically. “I expect girls to throw themselves into the job, I can be a bit of a hard task master, or should that be task mistress,” she said with a peculiar chuckle. “Now do you have any questions about the job?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure what I would be required to do. Surely I wouldn’t be expected to clean the entire place by myself, would I? It’s way too large for one person to handle,” Sarah said hesitantly. “And I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook, if that’s what you had in mind.”

Monica explained that except for her personal rooms, which she didn’t like strangers to enter, contract cleaners did the majority of the cleaning and that she already had a cook. The position was more one of lady’s personal maid than housekeeper, although it would include things like serving food at dinner parties.

Monica explained she had inherited her money relatively recently and was still adjusting to the idea of being rich. She had dreamed of having a maid from when she was a child. So now she could afford one, she thought she would give it a try. Finally, Monica explained that the position was ‘live in’ and that ‘uniforms’ would be provided. She spoke with what seemed to Sarah to be peculiar emphasis.

Sarah was stunned, she had expected to have to wear a maid’s uniform, but a live in lady’s personal maid sounded like something out of ‘Gone with the Wind’. Still, the money was very good. And while she liked the idea of having her own place to maintain her independence and so she could invite friends over, not having to pay rent would mean she could save even faster.

Sarah was in two minds. She was beginning to think Monica was a bit odd. But what did that matter, if the money was good enough. After all, how bad could the job be? So, she accepted the position gratefully.

“Now the formalities are out of the way, how about some refreshments?” Monica inquired. Sarah accepted a glass of iced tea. Unfortunately she didn’t notice that Monica merely raised her own glass to her lips before putting it down untouched.

“When would you like me to start?”  Sarah asked.

“Oh, I think its safe to say you’ll be starting immediately.” Sarah was just protesting that she had some things to take care of and that she couldn’t possibly start before next week when she began to feel faint. The last thing that Sarah saw before the blackness closed in was Monica standing over her with a rather ominous look of satisfaction on her face.

2) Getting out of bed can be the hardest thing

Sarah woke with a splitting headache, wondering where she was. She was lying on her back with her hands above her head. She moaned and held her throbbing head. Or at least she tried, but before her hands reached her head, they jerked to a halt with a clatter. Suddenly much more awake, Sarah looked around wildly. It didn’t take her long to realise she was lying on a bed stark naked. Cuffs circled her wrists and ankles from which delicate looking shiny chains headed off to the four corners of the bed in a kind of loose spread eagle.  The cuffs were made of a flexible strip of shiny metal about an inch wide and had layer of rubber on the inside as padding. She also had a collar around her neck and a belt fastened snugly around her trim waist. The events of the previous day were starting to come back to her. She still didn’t know where she was, but it was rapidly looking like she wasn’t going to like the answer.

Pulling with all her strength quickly established that although they might appear delicate, the chains were more than strong enough to be unbreakable. And trying to bring her hands together soon showed that although she had a bit of slack to allow for some movement while she slept, the chains were far too short for her to be able to reach the fastenings of the cuffs. And even if she could, she noticed that they were locked on with small padlocks for good measure. That left her with only one option. She took a deep breath and screamed “Help!” as loudly as she could.

“You can scream all you like, no one will hear you,” a familiar voice said. Craning her neck, Sarah saw Monica leaning nonchalantly against a wall near a closed door on the far side of the large room.  She was wearing a black knee length leather skirt and a black leather top that laced up the front, emphasising the trimness of her waist and doing remarkable things for her cleavage. She was wearing knee high leather boots with wicked looking stiletto heels. The crop she was tapping on her thigh merely emphasised her dominant demeanour.

“These are my private rooms and they have been thoroughly soundproofed,” she continued. “But even though no one will hear you, it annoys me, so we had better do something about it. Believe me, you won’t like me when I’m annoyed.” With that she hit a button on what looked like a TV remote control that was hanging from a belt around her waist. There was a low hum and the chains holding Sarah retracted quickly until she was stretched tight across the bed.

“Stop, no, what are you doing?” Sarah spluttered. But Monica paid no heed. Hanging the crop from her belt, she grabbed something from a drawer and advanced towards Sarah with a predatory gleam in her eyes. Hopping up onto the bed she straddled Sarah’s defenceless body and leaned towards her. “Please let me go,” Sarah pleaded, but eyeing the ball on a strap that Monica was extending towards her mouth, abruptly decided that maybe silence was the best option.

When Sarah stubbornly refused to let the ball enter her mouth, Monica said, “Well, if you want to do it the hard way…” Monica suddenly grasped Sarah’s right nipple between thumb and forefinger and gave it a vigorous pinch and twist. Sarah squealed with pain and surprise, and as her mouth shot open, Monica popped the ball neatly inside. “There, that’s much better,” she said, buckling the strap snugly at the back of Sarah’s neck and snapping a padlock home through the buckle.

“This ball gag will do for the moment,” Monica explained, “but we’ll organise something more elaborate later when we get you dressed properly. I don’t like to gag slaves while they’re sleeping. It’s too dangerous. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to obtain your services and it would be a shame if anything were to happen to you.”

Sarah just couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Slaves, more elaborate gags, being dressed properly. She didn’t like the sound of any of it. She tried to protest, but with the gag in her mouth, it came out as nothing more than muffled blubbering.

Monica put a token finger over Sarah’s lips. “Ssssh, if screaming didn’t help you, what do you expect that to achieve. I know you can still make some noise with that gag in. I have plenty of more effective ones that you will have the pleasure of experiencing soon enough. If you really insist, I can go and get one for you now. But, here’s your first tip about good behaviour. When you’re gagged, it means I want you to be quiet. You can answer questions with a nod or a headshake. When you’re not gagged, which I wouldn’t plan on getting too used to by the way, speak only when spoken to, and always address me as Mistress.” Sarah subsided, stunned by these revelations.

3) The importance of good personal hygiene or Shower Power

Monica hopped off the bed and grabbed her crop. “Now lets get you ready for a shower.”  “I don’t suppose I need to point out that cooperation will be in your best interests,” she observed, tapping Sarah’s breasts with the crop for emphasis. “You’re not going to give me any trouble are you?”  Given that her nipple was already throbbing, Sarah didn’t hesitate before shaking her head vigorously. “Good, I figured you were a bright girl.”

Monica hit another button on the remote. This time a chain descended from the ceiling near the foot of the bed, spooling out rapidly into a clinking pile. Monica grabbed the end and advanced towards Sarah. Using yet another of the ubiquitous padlocks, she linked it to a ring hanging from the front of Sarah’s collar. “This is long enough to let you use the bathroom, but not long enough for you to reach the door,” she explained.

Monica reached into the ample cleavage displayed by her top and emerged with a key attached to a chain around her neck. “This is the only key to all the locks you’re accessorised with, I like to keep it safe and sound” she said tauntingly. She unlocked one of Sarah’s wrists only to relock it to a chain attached to the front of Sarah’s waist belt. The operation was quickly repeated with her other hand. Sarah considered making a grab for the key, but with only one limb free at a time, she had no chance of fighting Monica off.  Her ankles were treated just as carefully as they were unlocked from the bed only to be linked by a foot of chain.

Somewhat awkwardly due to the restrictions, Sarah wormed her way to the side of the bed, swung both legs together off the side and stood up. Moving her hands around, she soon worked out that the two feet of chain connecting them was free to move through the ring on the belt. So she had just enough slack to bring a hand up to her face, but only while the other remained pressed against her waist.

Standing up, she was able to get her first decent look around the room. It was a large room with a high ceiling. Disturbingly, the room was windowless. The bed was to one side of the room with the bathroom door next to it. The bed’s placement was unusual in that it was away from the all the walls so that it was possible to walk completely around it. The significance of that was clear to Sarah due to her recent experiences. Near the foot of the bed, there was a fair bit of clear space. Her collar chain hung down from the ceiling in the middle of this space and on the other side of it, the mirrored doors of what looked like a large built in wardrobe filled the wall.

In the other half of the room, there were a number of tables or benches scattered around, including, she noticed with a shudder, what looked like a gynaecological exam table complete with stirrups. There were a number of other objects that she didn’t recognise but that she didn’t like the look of. But, before she could take much of a look at them, Monica called out “You’ve got half an hour, so I suggest you get started. Your cuffs, collar, gag and chains are all stainless steel and rubber, so water won’t hurt anything.”

Well, that’s a big weight off my mind. Sarah started shuffling towards the bathroom, the various chains clinking as she moved. As she reached the doorway, Monica called out “There’s shaving gear in there. Use it! If I find so much as a hair anywhere on your body below your neck, you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?” Sarah flushed with embarrassment as the implications sunk in. She had never shaved down there.

Entering the bathroom, Sarah glanced around and groaned into her gag. It was pretty much as she was coming to expect. There was no door to be closed in the doorway to the bathroom so privacy was to be just a dream of the past. Gleaming white tiles covered the floor and walls, unrelieved by even a trace of colour and all of the fittings were glistening glass and gleaming stainless steel, which gave the room a rather ominously clinical décor.  There was a toilet, a large glass shower cubicle complete with dangling chains and a rather disturbing set of hoses and nozzles that she was going to avoid thinking too much about. She noticed with no surprise that there was no window in here either. She took a quick look through the bathroom cabinet, without much hope, just in case there was something she could use to her advantage. The contents were unremarkable; a reasonable selection of toiletries including a disposable plastic safety razor, but no cuticle scissors or even a nail file. About the most dangerous item was a toothbrush. Well, there were towels. Maybe she could give Monica a nasty flick with a wet towel. That would teach her a lesson. She gave a desultory tug at her gag, her collar and the belt. But as she expected, they were sturdy, locked on, and completely inescapable. Well, if she strained her jaw to the limit, she thought she might just be able to work the gag out. But she couldn’t see what that would achieve, except undoubtedly annoy Monica. Well, there’s no point in hanging about, she decided. She might as well get it over with.

4) The Plot thickens or Just Hanging around with a Mistress

Sarah was just finishing up when she heard Monica call out “Times up!” Feeling more naked than she would have believed it was possible to feel, she defiantly dumped the towel in the middle of the floor and began trudging resignedly towards the bedroom. Leaving the bathroom messy was at best a minor rebellion, but she felt better for it. With a sudden clinking, the chain began to retract, not quickly, but fast enough that she had to hurry her steps to keep up with it.

Being given no choice by the chain, Sarah ended up standing at the foot of the bed and was relieved when the chain stopped when it was just snug with her standing directly below the chain. The position wasn’t uncomfortable, but she found that she couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction without starting to strangle herself.

Monica used the remote to lower a sturdy steel rod about 3 feet long from the ceiling to hang immediately in front of her. It had a number of rings welded along its length and was hanging from a pair of chains, one at each end, so it looked kind of like a circus trapeze or a swing of some kind. Using snap hooks, Monica quickly attached Sarah’s wrists to either end of the bar and only then unlocked her wrists from the waist belt. Her ankles were similarly attached to inconspicuous rings mounted in the floor about shoulder width apart. She then raised the bar and Sarah found herself stretched out, like she was stuck halfway through a star jump. And as usual, at no time had more than one limb been free.

“Let me get rid of these for you, they can’t be very comfortable,” Monica said mockingly as she removed the collar and belt and retracted the collar chain back into the ceiling.

“Good to see you’ve been keeping yourself in shape. I thought you had a good body but it was a bit hard to tell under that bag you were wearing yesterday,” Monica said as she ran her hands up and down Sarah’s defenceless body. She tweaked a nipple and Sarah squawked in protest. Monica ran her fingernails across the newly denuded skin just above Sarah’s sex. “I see you’ve done a good job with the shaving.” Sarah winced. The newly bared skin was surprisingly sensitive and the touch was sending waves of sensation through her body, not all of them completely unpleasant. “Oh, that’s a bit sensitive is it?” Monica exclaimed in mock sympathy. “Did you use lotion on it? That helps after shaving.” Sarah shook her head. “Too bad, you might get a bit of chafing down there. Ah well, you’ll know better for tomorrow.”

“Before we get you dressed, I suppose you have a lot of questions.” Sarah nodded hesitantly. “Well, you’re in no position to demand answers, but if you ‘hang around’ for a moment, I guess I can clue you in a bit.” Monica chuckled unpleasantly at her own joke. “I expect the top two on your list are ‘Why am I doing this?’ and ‘How on earth do I expect to get away with it?’” Sarah nodded even more hesitantly, not sure that she really wanted to know the answers. “As far as why goes – I believe I mentioned yesterday that I had a childhood dream of having a maid. Well, I also loved playing with dolls and playing dress up. And you, my little slave, will allow me to fulfil all three of those dreams. You’re my own little maid dolly, that I can dress up any way I like!”

Sarah struggled desperately against the chains and protested volubly into her gag. This was just crazy. Monica just leaned forward and reinforced the gag by placing her palm over Sarah’s mouth. “Sssh, this isn’t doing you any good. I warned you earlier about making a fuss. I’m afraid you’ve just earned yourself a demerit. Looks like your day isn’t off to a good start. Each demerit results in a punishment.” 

Not off to a good start! That’s something of an understatement! Sarah was reduced to glaring at Monica, having exhausted her struggles for the moment. How much worse could it get? She was just afraid she was going to find out.

“I don’t know what you’re making all this fuss about. You accepted the job didn’t you? This is all part of the job.” Sarah was outraged into protesting volubly again. She tried desperately to get understandable words past the gag. This was not what she had signed up for!

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind when you accepted the job.  Now where was I? Ah yes. I believe I was about to explain why I think that I’m going to be able to get away with this,” continued Monica.

Great, now she thinks she’s a super villain. She’s about to explain her evil plot. And me without a laser cutter in my wristwatch.

“I’ve been planning this for some time. I just had to wait for the right applicant to turn up. You see, after dark last night, I dressed in your clothes, put on a blonde wig and went over to your apartment. The clothes were a bit tight, but in the dark with a coat and hat on, I think I made a quite a convincing ‘you’ in case anyone saw me in the lobby. I packed up all your personal possessions. We really must do something about your dress sense by the way. The Salvation Army will be picking up your rather ratty furniture today. I left a letter for Mr Hunter, your landlord, whose name you were helpful enough to provide yesterday. It explained that you had to move out due to a family emergency.  I left him a month’s rent. I don’t suppose he’ll be too upset that you didn’t pick up your security deposit. I left your car with the keys in the ignition in a dodgy neighbourhood. I don’t suppose it will be there anymore. Oh, I expect your parents will wonder what’s happened to you eventually. In a week or two, I plan to drop them a postcard from Atlantic City explaining that you’ve decided not to go to college. It will say that you’ve discovered you can make much more money as an exotic dancer, that you’re really all right and that they shouldn’t worry about you. If they’re your typical small town family, I expect they’ll be too embarrassed to even try looking for you.

Sarah slumped in her chains. It seemed like Monica had thought of everything. Unfortunately, she hadn’t told anyone where she was going yesterday. So now she could disappear without a trace and the police wouldn’t even be looking for her. Oh, one or two of her friends might wonder why they hadn’t seen her around and why she wasn’t answering her phone, but even if they went round to look for her, the landlord would just tell them that she had moved out. With no sign of foul play, there was nothing to make anyone suspicious.

5) The measure of the maid or A crushing experience

“Now lets get your measurements,” Monica said, grabbing a tape measure and a clipboard from the chest of drawers.  “I’m going to order an entire custom-made wardrobe for you. I have a number of ready-made outfits in a variety of sizes, so we should be able to find you something to wear for the moment. But for the best results, you just can’t beat custom made. I’m sure you’ll agree. From the look of the rags I dragged out of your apartment yesterday, I’d say that up till now you’ve been a Wal-Mart girl. It was very generous of you to donate all your clothes to good will, by the way. Well cheer up, we’ll have you dressing in nothing but the finest designer outfits in no time. Fetish designer that is,” she said, chuckling unpleasantly.

Sarah didn’t share her amusement. Oh goody, I can hardly wait.

Monica proceeded to take a bewildering range of measurements. She took every conceivable measurement of Sarah’s wrists, arms, ankles and legs. Not to mention her height, inside leg, bust size, waist and hips. When Monica started measuring the size of Sarah’s hands, feet, neck, forehead and other measurements of her head, Sarah began to wonder what sort of thing she was going to be expected to wear. Then Monica took one final measurement, from her waistline in back, through her crotch, to her waistline in front and Sarah got a sinking feeling. She really didn’t want to know what that measurement could be used for.

“Well, that should do for the moment,” Monica said as she put away the clipboard. “Now let’s find you something suitable to wear.” She slid open the wardrobe doors revealing a dazzling array of outfits hanging from racks filling the wardrobe. As far as Sarah could tell, the materials involved leaned heavily towards leather, PVC and latex. Dress and skirt lengths appeared to be mostly either ridiculously short or ankle length with very little in between. Things like catsuits were also well represented. Sarah did a double take. Surely that couldn’t be a straitjacket.

Below the outfits, a row of shoes and boots was laid out. They ranged from pumps to ankle boots and towering thigh high fetish boots. But as far as Sarah could see, the one thing they all had in common were towering heels.

“Since this is your first day on the job, I think we’ll start you with something classic,” Monica said as she fished a dress from the depths of the wardrobe and hung it up on display. “This should do nicely I think.” Sarah looked it over dubiously. It was what could be described as a classic French maid’s dress, only made of black leather. It had a short puffy skirt held up by what looked like a built in lacy crinoline. The top had a scoop neck that would display a generous décolletage and long sleeves. However, the waist was ridiculously tiny. Sarah knew her waist was generally considered quite slim, but even so, she just didn’t think that she would be able to fit into it.

Monica laughed at her sceptical expression. “You’re noticing the waist I suppose, well don’t worry, you’ll have a bit of help. I like my girls to have a nice slim waist and good posture. So a nice tight corset is the order of the day. I realise that you’re probably not used to wearing corsets, so we’ll start you off easy. We’ll only need to take off about 2 inches to get you into this. But don’t you worry, once you’ve had a bit of practice and we get you a custom made corset, we’ll get you down a lot further than that!” She laughed even harder at the horrified expression that Sarah couldn’t help but display.

“Here, I think this should be your size,” she said, holding up a corset for Sarah to look over in dismay. It was quite pretty in an “oh look, I fell through a time warp and slipped back 200 years” kind of way. It was white with a satiny finish and pretty pink ribbons trimming the top and bottom. But Sarah wasn’t relieved. It may look pretty, but she would bet it wasn’t going to be comfortable.

Monica wasted no time in slipping the corset around Sarah’s waist and working on tightening the laces. After five minutes of effort, Sarah was having to breathe shallowly and it felt like she was being crushed half to death. Monica tied the laces off with a bow and stepped away. Sarah breathed a shallow sigh of relief. It wasn’t what she’d call comfortable, but it was bearable. “I’ll leave you there for a while, so your body can acclimatise to the pressure. I’ll be back to finish the tightening in a bit. Don’t go away now,” she said as she headed for the door.

Sarah was horrified. What did she mean ‘finish tightening’? Much tighter than this and this corset would be the end of her.

Suddenly Sarah froze. She had just realised, the only thing attaching her to this bar were a couple of snap hooks. If she could just get them undone, she might have a chance…

Sarah waited nervously for Monica to walk out of sight then sprang into action. By rising up on tiptoes, she was able to gain some slack to work with. She tried desperately to work the catches on the snap hooks, but it was no good. She could get a few fingers onto the catches. But they seemed to be designed so that you had to squeeze releases at both ends at the same time, which was impossible from her awkward position. Peering to see some way around her dilemma, she was just able to make out the words “Kid Safe” embossed into the metal. Oh, great, defeated by another wonder of the modern world - childproof restraints.

With nothing better to do, Sarah studied her reflection in the wardrobe doors. The corset started off at her hips and ended up with the top cradling her breasts in a pair of half cups that thrust her breasts out proudly and ended just below her nipples. She had to admit, it was doing great things for her figure. With this thing on, she had a waistline and bust to die for.

Sarah was feeling rather bored when Monica returned. Having had time for her body to adjust, she wasn’t feeling quite so crushed. But when Monica resumed tightening, that crushed feeling soon returned with a vengeance. By the time Monica finished, she was panting shallowly and felt like she was going to pass out.  “That should do it,” Monica said cheerfully. “There’s an inch or two left in these laces before we have to find you a smaller corset, but that’s enough for today.” Sarah was too busy concentrating on breathing to react. She moaned pitifully into her gag. “Don’t be such a baby,” Monica chided. “I’ve worn corsets this tight for special occasions. It’s not that bad. One of your duties from now on will be to help me into my corset before parties.” Sarah brightened momentarily; maybe she could crush the bitch to death by over tightening her corset.

6) A fulfilling experience or Chastity is its own reward

“Now, I’ve got a little surprise for you,” Monica said brightly with a gleam in her eyes that Sarah didn’t like the look of at all. “Ta da” she said, pulling yet another goody from the wardrobe of horrors and brandishing it proudly in front of Sarah’s face. The tangle of black leather straps didn’t mean anything to Sarah, but the two disturbingly phallic prongs jutting proudly from the midst of the tangle filled her with a vast sense of unease.

“I never know what to call these,” Monica said thoughtfully. “I mean, ‘chastity belt’ is the obvious name, but the presence of these two little devils makes the name awfully ironic. We’ll no matter. I’ll get it lubed up and you and it can get better acquainted.” As Sarah looked on in horror, protesting feebly into her gag, Monica grabbed a tube of jelly and spread it liberally over one of the prongs.  “Chances are your back passage is ‘virgin territory’ so to speak.” Well luckily for you, these babies are removable. So I’ve taken the liberty of starting you off with only a small butt plug. We’ll work up to its bigger brothers in due course.” 

The plugs loomed enormously to Sarah’s eyes. She wouldn’t have called either of them small, but admittedly one was rather smaller than the other. Monica moved around behind her and positioned one of the invaders at each of her entrances. “Upsy daisy” she called out brightly and started easing it surprisingly gently into position. Sarah had never felt so filled in her life. The rear plug felt like it was splitting her in two. But at the same time the movement was sending waves of sensation crashing through her body. “Looks like I picked the right slave, I think your enjoying this,” Monica said smugly. “I didn’t think that front plug was going to need any extra lubrication, and I was right!” Sarah was mortified. She could feel her body betraying her. Surely she couldn’t be enjoying any part of this.

Monica worked the plugs completely home. Between the corset squeezing her with an implacable grip and the two invaders filling her from below, Sarah wouldn’t have believed it was possible to feel so completely full. “Now, lets get you all buckled up” called out Monica as she started to work on the tangle of straps. As she worked on them, the arrangement of straps began to make sense to Sarah.

The two prongs were mounted on an hourglass shaped leather base. The narrow section ran through her crotch. The front and the back of the base flared out as they curved up to cover her sex and backside.  Three straps were attached to the top each of the flared regions. One headed vertically and the other two horizontally left and right. Monica pulled the vertical strap at the back up to the level of Sarah’s waist where it ended at a cross strap forming a T shape. That cross strap turned out to be a belt that ran around her waist and buckled near the front. Monica grabbed the front vertical strap and gave it a firm tug, settling the invaders even deeper inside Sarah and eliciting an involuntary moan. This strap also ran up to waist height, where it ended with a loop that Monica passed the waist belt through, joining it all securely together. That just left the two horizontal straps on each side. Monica ran these around Sarah’s thighs where they joined forming thigh bands.  Monica tightened the three buckles snugly and snapped locks home. There was one on each thigh and one on the waist belt.  “There, that should keep you out of mischief for the moment. Of course this leather chastity is only a temporary measure. I’ll be getting you a nice shiny custom made steel one as soon as possible.”

“I think it’s time for you to try on your dress. No, wait; I’m forgetting the final touch. Now, that we’ve got you sorted out downstairs, we wouldn’t want these babies to miss out on all the fun,” she said coming round in front of Sarah and grabbing a nipple with each hand where they poked out over the lips of the half cups. “This corset may not have been made by ‘Cross your heart’, but it certainly lives up to their motto of ‘lift and separate’, doesn’t it?” She rolled the buds back and forth gently but firmly between a thumb and forefinger and Sarah could feel them perking up from the attention. “Now that we’ve got their attention, lets see if we can keep them awake.” Monica slipped what looked rather like a thimble over Sarah’s left nipple and started rolling a tiny rubber band towards its base.  When the band reached the base of the thimble it slipped off and snapped tight around the base of the nipple. Sarah gasped in shock, but soon realised that it wasn’t painful as much as impossible to ignore. It filled her nipple with a throbbing burn that she started to find rather distracting. Monica gave the nipple a light flick that elicited another gasp from Sarah. Her nipples weren’t normally this sensitive, but with the ring in place, every sensation was magnified a thousand fold. “Good, looks like that’s got a firm grip. We wouldn’t want them slipping off accidentally now, would we?” Monica quickly repeated the operation with the other nipple.

7) Clothes make the Maid or Dress for Success

“Well, I think we can finally get you dressed.” Monica stooped and unhooked the chains from Sarah’s ankles. Sarah closed her legs gratefully; she had been starting to feel a bit strained from having her legs apart like that for some long. But the movement shifted the plugs within her sending a new wave of sensation pulsing through her groin. She couldn’t imagine what walking was going to feel like.

Monica slipped the maid’s dress from the hanger and unzipped the back. She laid it out on the floor in front of Sarah, assisted her in stepping into it then worked it up Sarah’s body until the skirt was in place around her waist. Monica unhooked Sarah’s left hand from the bar and held the dress in position for Sarah to work her hand into the sleeve. Sarah quickly assessed the situation, but as usual, Monica had been careful to make sure she only had one free hand. She sighed, and meekly slipped her hand into place. As soon as it popped out of the sleeve, Monica grabbed her wrist and soon had it hooked back to the bar. It didn’t take long for her to repeat the operation with Sarah’s remaining hand.

Monica zipped the dress up the back and Sarah heard the now familiar sound of a padlock snicking shut. “Why am I not surprised,” she thought to herself ruefully. Sarah surveyed the results in the mirror. The dress fit like a second skin, the ridiculously slender waist rising above the wide skirt gave her an outline that if she hadn’t seen, she just wouldn’t have believed. And her bust looked enormous. My god, I look like Jessica Rabbit.

“Let’s see if we find you some accessories to match that outfit. Accessorising is just so important, don’t you agree?” Monica retrieved some shoes from the array and held them up for Sarah’s inspection. They were a pair of black leather ankle boots with a 4-inch stiletto heel. “I think these will match nicely. I know from looking at your wardrobe last night that you’re not a big fan of high heels, so we’ll start you off with something modest, but with a bit of practice, we’ll have you in proper heels in no time.” Sarah was horrified. If these were modest heels by Monica’s standards, she didn’t want to think what she considered ‘proper’ heels.

Monica assisted her in working her feet into first one, then the other. Sarah felt she was teetering on tiptoes, for a change she was glad of the support provided by the bar from which she was hanging. Monica did up the zippers on the inside of her ankles and for a finishing touch snapped the discarded cuffs back in place around the ankles of the boots and linked them with the usual foot of chain. Sarah realised unhappily that with the cuffs in place, there was no way for the boots to be removed.

Monica gathered Sarah’s hair behind her, fixing it with a hair band at the nape of her neck. “You’ll have enough trouble today without your hair falling in your eyes.” She released it to cascade in a golden waterfall down Sarah’s back, positioned a lacy maids cap at a jaunty angle on Sarah’s head and clipped it in place. The final touch was a lacy apron fastened at Sarah’s waist and tied with floppy bow. Monica stepped back to admire the effect. “Lovely!”

Monica retrieved the collar and belt that Sarah had worn earlier and fastened them back around her body. “Now all you need are some gloves and I think you’re done. I was going to change your gag, but I think it can wait till after breakfast. You don’t mind do you?” Sarah shook her head firmly. As unpleasant as the ball gag was, she was sure the replacement was going to be worse.

Monica removed the cuff from one of Sarah’s wrists and started working a glove onto her hand. The glove was made of the finest kid leather and buttery soft. Under other circumstances, Sarah would have been pleased to wear such a luxurious item. Then she noticed it wasn’t quite what it appeared to be. The thumb of the glove was stitched tightly against the side of the hand. She tried to wiggle her thumb in vain, but it was held immovably in place. So much for opposable thumbs. There goes a million years of evolution down the drain. Monica smoothed the sleeve of the dress down neatly over the glove, replaced the wrist cuff and locked it once more to the waist chain. Her other hand was soon in the same position.

Fastening a leather leash to the ring on the front of Sarah’s collar, Monica gave it a quick tug. “Walkies!” she called out brightly. Being faced with a choice of either following the leash or falling flat on her face, Sarah reluctantly took one step, then another. The towering heels conspired with the hobble chain to limit her gait to a short shuffle.  But she found with a bit of concentration, she could keep her balance - just. The exertion increased her breathing but the punishingly tight corset limited her to rapid panting. And as she had feared, the movement shifted the two invaders inside her, producing waves of sensation that threatened to disturb her concentration. To cap it all off, movements of her torso shifted her breasts inside the dress, scraping her surprisingly sensitive nipples across the lining. Almost overwhelmed by the riot of sensation, she groaned into her gag, provoking a chuckle from Monica. “I don’t suppose you’ll be winning any races today.”

8) Breakfast, the most important meal of the day or You are what you eat.

Monica guided Sarah to a halt at the door to the room. Sarah noticed there was a numeric keypad beside the door. Monica shielded it with her hand as she punched in combination. “No peeking now.” 

Sarah found herself being led down a short corridor to a nicely furnished day room. There was a dining table set up with a tablecloth and flowers in a vase. It had two chairs, but only one had a place set. The room also contained a comfortable looking lounge facing a TV, a coffee table with magazines scattered about and there was an attached kitchenette. In short, it was a room that you might have found in any suburban house. Sarah felt rather out of place teetering through it in her fetish finery.

Monica led her to the chair at the dining table which didn’t have a place set and helped her sit down gingerly. Settling her weight only pushed the unwelcome guests deeper inside her and made them feel bigger than ever. Monica clipped a ring at the back of her collar to a ring at the top of the chair back, both forcing her to sit painfully upright and ensuring that she would be seated for the duration.

“I’m going to ungag you now, but before I do, I want to make a couple of things painfully clear. Eating like this is a privilege. It can be quickly revoked and the alternative is my patented `dog food diet` eaten with your hands chained behind your back.” She said gesturing towards the kitchenette. Following the gesture, Sarah shuddered noticing a large shiny steel dog bowl sitting on the tiled kitchenette floor. It had the word ‘Slave’ enamelled on the side. “So I don’t expect to hear a peep out of you, and no fuss when I replace your gag. Do I make myself clear?” Sarah nodded.

When Monica popped the ball from her mouth, Sarah worked her abused jaw from side to side but carefully refrained from letting a sigh of relief escape. “Lets see what Cook has made for breakfast.” Monica crossed to the kitchenette and opened what looked like a cupboard. It turned out to be a dumb waiter from which Monica retrieved a streaming plate under a cover. She deposited it on her side of the table and whipped off the cover. “Mmmm, Eggs Benedict. Looks good, doesn’t it?” Sarah couldn’t help but agree, the smell was irresistible and her stomach growled in anticipation. “Charming woman, my cook. You didn’t meet her of course. I made sure it was her day off. We couldn’t have her seeing you enter the house, now could we?”

“Well, you’ll be wanting yours as well.” Monica crossed to the kitchenette again and this time, returned to plonk a small bowl of what Sarah recognised as instant porridge in front of her. “Eat up, you’ll need your strength,” she said handing her a plastic spoon.

Sarah found that as long as she kept one hand in her lap, she was just able to manoeuvre the spoon to her mouth. Managing the spoon without the use of her thumb proved to be a bit of a trial, but she soon got the knack. She ate her porridge in silence, unable to resist shooting the odd envious glance at her companions fare. Although, her meal looked small, she found she was soon full. Well, she concluded, eating wearing a corset is one way to make sure you stick to a diet.

As soon as Sarah had finished eating, Monica produced her new gag. “This panel gag has a smaller ball, so it’s more comfortable to wear, but I think you’ll agree its no less effective.” The new gag was a complex web of straps that Sarah eyed with trepidation, but she meekly opened her mouth when required. Monica had been right; the ball that was lodged in her mouth was much smaller. But compensating for that were all the extra straps. There was the traditional gag strap that pinned the ball in her mouth and fastened at the nape of her neck. Above that was a strap that went around her head at forehead level. From this, twin straps descended either side of her eyes, linking the two horizontal straps together. A chin strap held her jaw clamped tightly down on the ball. And the last strap started from the middle of her forehead, went up over the crown of her head then met the forehead strap in back. From there it descended to be buckled to the gag strap at the nape of her neck.

Monica locked all the buckles and added the finishing touch of a panel of leather across the lower part of Sarah’s face that sealed her lips smoothly against the ball. Sarah found that the most she could manage was a muffled hum. No matter how she contorted her jaw, she wasn’t going to be getting this gag out of her mouth.

Monica considered the effect. “I think that gag really suits you. I have a similar one with a plume on it that’s part of a Ponygirl outfit. We’ll have to get you into it soon. You’ll be as pretty as a picture. Of course, Ponygirls really work best as a matched pair. I’ll have to consider finding a playmate for you.”  The term Ponygirl meant nothing to Sarah, and if she had her way, it would stay a mystery. Unfortunately, she didn’t think that would be an option.

9) A maid’s work is never done.

Monica unfastened her from the chair and helped her to stand up. “Well, its time for you to get started on your chores.” She laid a piece of paper on the table. “Here’s your list for today, cleaning equipment is in that closet.” With that she went and settled comfortably on the lounge then picked up a magazine. “It goes without saying that any chores not completed to my satisfaction by the end of the day will incur demerits.”

Sarah was stunned, how on earth did Monica expect her to be able to complete chores in this getup? She inspected the list and groaned anew. It started off  ‘ 1) washing up, 2) dust day room, 3) tidy and mop slave’s bathroom’ and just kept going. So much for my token rebellion in the bathroom, she realised. Having that backfire should have been fairly predictable. Well, if she was ever going to finish, she’d better get started.

Sarah attended to her first two tasks conscientiously, aware that Monica was within view. Luckily there was a dishwasher, which made the first chore much easier, although handling the plates without dropping them was a real challenge without the use of her thumbs. She found a feather duster and managed to work her way round the room without knocking any of the knick-knacks over.

Grabbing a mop and bucket, she started to make her way laboriously down the corridor towards the bedroom where she had woken, what seemed like oh, so long ago. But once out of sight of the dayroom and Monica she stopped. This was the first time today that she wasn’t chained to an immovable object. Freedom, of a sorts at least! She hadn’t seen a door out of here. But there must be one. And the woman who cooked those eggs must be in the house somewhere. If she could just get out and find the cook, surely she would call the police.

She dumped the mop and bucket and continued down the corridor at her best speed. There were a number of doors on the corridor past her bedroom and she tried each one she came to. The first opened onto what was presumably Monica’s bedroom judging by the luxurious appointments and gigantic bed, but she gave it no more than a seconds glance. The second room had a décor featuring disturbingly large amounts of black leather and ominous looking apparatus scattered about the room. She backed out hurriedly, but not before noticing what looked like a sturdy cage or kennel in a corner. She had an uncanny feeling that the intended occupant wasn’t likely to be named ‘Spot’.

As she tried the handle of the third door, all hell broke loose. Alarms bells rang and a bright blue light started flashing, filling the scene with an eerie glare.  But Sarah hardly noticed. In time with the flashing light, pulses of agony were lashing at her insides. She sank to her knees and curled up around the pain.

Suddenly it all stopped. She opened her eyes with relief to see Monica’s boots filling her field of view. Shifting her gaze upwards she saw Monica glaring down at her. “Did you really think I’m so stupid that I wouldn’t take precautions against you trying to abuse my hospitality by leaving?”  She laughed at Sarah’s woebegone expression. “Did I forget to mention that your little friends downstairs have a remote controlled electroshock feature? They can also be set to vibrate to reward good behaviour. Although it doesn’t seem likely we’ll be needing that feature any time soon. You were off to good start, and then you had to do this. I’m afraid that we’re way beyond demerits now. I have no choice but to punish you severely!” Sarah blubbered desperate apologies into her gag but soon lapsed into silence upon seeing the scathing sneer that was Monica’s response.

Monica dragged Sarah back to her feet then took a leather strap and worked it around her elbows linking them behind her back. As she tightened it and Sarah’s elbow got closer together, her hands were dragged backwards. The chain linking her wrists was soon taut, pinning her hands against her stomach.

“Go to your bedroom!” ordered Monica heading in that direction herself. “This will provide some incentive for you to hurry, I’ll shut it off when you get there.” Sarah flinched when the pulsing started up in her groin again. But this time it was just waves of painful tingling, not the agonising pulses of fire that had lashed her before. Still, she wasted no time shuffling off down the corridor in pursuit.

10) Welcome to the doghouse.

Sarah was back standing in the familiar spreadeagle in front of the wardrobe. Monica had stripped off her shoes and dress, removed the chastity belt and popped the rubber bands off her nipples. Sarah would have been relieved, but she had a nasty feeling that this was just the precursor to something much worse.

“I made the mistake of taking it easy on you this morning. Well, it’s time to rectify that situation. We’ll start with adjusting your corset and chastity. Then we’ll find you a more suitable outfit. I’m afraid it’s not likely to be as comfortable as the old one, you might find it gets a little hot and sweaty,” Monica said menacingly.

Monica struggled with the corset and finally managed to get another inch out of the laces. This time, Sarah really did pass out from the pressure only to be rudely awakened by Monica breaking a capsule of smelling salts under her nose. “Don’t think your getting out of it that easily!” Monica grabbed her old friend, the chastity belt and installed a larger butt plug. Sarah had thought the previous model had filled her to capacity. But she soon realised just how naïve she had been. Her eyes filled with tears as Monica worked the bulbous head past her reluctant sphincter. Thankfully the shaft of the plug then shrank to a more manageable if not comfortable size.

Then it was time for some new shoes. “Normally, this outfit would include a matching pair of Ballet boots. Unfortunately, I just don’t think you would be able to walk in them yet. So these will just have to do for the moment. But rest assured, getting you some suitable high heel training will be a matter of priority.” The boots Monica held up for her inspection were knee high boots of gleaming black leather and had a stiletto heel that was at least 5 inches tall. Unlike the previous boots, these had a set of laces up the front that Monica took delight in lacing up punishingly tightly. Sarah had no idea what Ballet boots were, but if they were worse than these, she didn’t think she wanted to.

The new outfit was a floor length dress made of gleaming black latex. It took application of copious quantities of talc and considerable effort on Monica’s part to squeeze her into it. But it was a challenge that Monica seemed to relish. When she was done, the dress fit like a sausage skin from Sarah’s neck down to her ankles. The skirt was snug from her waist, all the way down, leaving her barely any wiggle room. Sarah found herself restricted to steps of no more than a couple of inches. The dress had a high neck and might have been considered almost modest except for the cut outs strategically placed for her nipples to protrude. She stared at her reflection with amazement. The gleaming black latex clung to every curve of her body like liquid and transformed her into a fetishist’s wet dream. If the previous dress had made her look like Jessica Rabbit, this one made her look more like Elvira, Rubber maid of the dark.

But Monica wasn’t finished yet. “I’m going to replace your gag, and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you. You’re in enough trouble as it is!” Monica unbuckled the web of straps around Sarah’s head only to replace it with a helmet of gleaming black latex that covered her entire head. The only openings were for her eyes and a pair of holes beneath her nostrils. Monica gathered Sarah’s hair into a tight ponytail and worked it through an opening at the back of the helmet before lacing it snugly down the back. The helmet included a built in gag that Sarah initially thought was surprisingly small. But when Monica attached a tube to a small valve between her lips and started pumping, it swelled alarmingly. “This is known as a ‘discipline helmet’, I thought it only appropriate seeing that its something you appear to be severely lacking.” A high, stiff collar was locked around her neck forcing her to look straight forwards. Sarah realised that it covered the laces of the helmet neatly, making it impossible to remove.

“Now let’s do something about those hands of yours. We wouldn’t want them to get you into any more trouble, now would we?” Monica lowered the bar to waist height and pulling Sarah’s elbows behind her back, worked a strap around them. She then unbuckled Sarah’s wrist cuffs. Sarah tested her range of motion, but found with her elbows pinned snugly together behind her, all she could manage was to wave her hands around at her sides ineffectually.

“This beauty is known as a single sleeve armbinder or monoglove. I think you’ll find it both uncomfortable and inescapable!” Monica held what appeared to be a tube or sleeve of gleaming black latex, festooned with laces, straps and buckles up for Sarah’s inspection. Sarah did her best to avoid it, but it was child’s play for Monica to manoeuvre both her hands into the open end of the sleeve and start working it up her arms. When the sleeve reached Sarah’s elbows, Monica removed the now redundant strap and kept on going.

When Monica had finished, Sarah found her hands trapped in a pouch at the end of the sleeve. The sleeve had been pulled up her arms all the way up to her armpits and then laced up snugly, rendering the whole thing skin-tight. To add insult to injury, straps were buckled around the sleeve at her wrists and elbows and locked on. The final touch was a pair of straps that started at the top of the sleeve, passed over her shoulders and only to cross above her breasts before passing back through her armpits and connecting back to the sleeve. These were buckled tight ensuring there was no chance of the sleeve slipping down Sarah’s arms even a fraction. As promised, the position was rather uncomfortable and Sarah could feel her shoulders protesting from the strain already. It also had the effect of thrusting her breasts out proudly.

“I have to commend you on your flexibility, I wasn’t able to get your elbows to touch, but they came surprisingly close. A bit more practice, and I think we’ll get there. High school gymnastics?” Sarah slowly shook her head. “Cheer leader?” Sarah reluctantly nodded. “Perfect, I must remember to have a cheerleaders outfit made up for you. You’ll look just darling. And I think we’ll be able to find other ways to put that flexibility to good use. But for the moment, if you’re going to flaunt your breasts like that, we’d better find them some decorations.” Monica snapped small clamps with serrated tips painfully shut on Sarah’s unwillingly prominent nipples. There was a short chain linking the clamps, from the centre of which dangled a small but surprisingly heavy bell. The bell tinkled cheerfully as she breathed, the movement tugging painfully at her nipples. “Hmm, I think they rather suit you. I’ll have to consider getting your nipples pierced with permanent rings, what do you think?” Sarah’s only reply was a low moan.

“Now, you should be getting back to your chores. This should allow you to make a start on the bathroom floor,” Monica said snapping a rod about three feet long to a socket on front of Sarah’s helmet. The rod terminated in a mop head. “You’ll find attachments to replace that mop for other jobs stored with the other cleaning supplies. I’m afraid you’ll have to bend right over to use it, which might not be too comfortable given your corset, but that’s the price you pay.” Sarah was stunned. The insane bitch couldn’t possibly expect her to do chores like this. She wasn’t even sure she would be able to move from the spot.” She whined incredulously into her gag.

Monica seemed to guess her meaning. “You didn’t expect to be relieved of your duties just because I’ve been forced to discipline you did you? That would be rewarding your poor behaviour. I’m afraid we can’t have that, so you’ll just have to manage as best you can. Remember, every chore you don’t complete earns a demerit. I’ll be dealing with the day’s demerits after dinner, and somehow I suspect that it will take me a while.

Monica sauntered off towards the lounge. “Well don’t let me keep you from your work.”

Sarah let out a rueful sigh. This was going to be a long day.

11) Dinner and Demerits

Sarah was lying almost comfortably on one of the other pieces of furniture in her bedroom, but somehow she suspected that the comfort wouldn’t last. The furniture in question was a large wooden X shaped cross that was leaning at an angle of about 45 degrees against a wall. Sarah was naked except for a ballgag. She was lying face down with straps about her wrists, ankles and waist pinning her snugly to the cross. Monica had arranged her on it then wandered off, leaving her to ponder her situation. Sarah reviewed the events that had led up to it.

In spite of her best efforts, she had unsurprisingly been able to make relatively little progress on the chores she had been set. When dinnertime finally arrived, Monica had rounded her up and after stripping off her helmet, deposited her face down on the floor next to the dog bowl. “Yum, its got marrowbone jelly and is good for your hair and teeth,” she said enticingly, dumping a can of dog food into the bowl. Sarah was ravenous having had nothing to eat since breakfast, but the smell coming from the bowl was nauseating, especially in contrast the smells coming from the meal awaiting Monica. In addition, she imagined that eating with her hands still pinned firmly behind her back was likely to be an extremely messy operation. But, it wasn’t as if she was being given a lot of choice. It turned out she was right about the mess, her face and hair were liberally smeared with the stuff by the time she had finished as much as she could bear to choke down.

Cleanup after dinner turned out to be comprised of Monica marching her fully clothed into the shower and hosing her down with icy water. After having spent the entire day sweating inside a layer of latex, this wasn’t as unpleasant as it might have been. Of, course, Monica had then stripped her, strung her up by the chains in the shower and turned the water on her once more. This time it left her shivering and with goose pimples. A vigorous towel down with a scratchy towel hadn’t helped her comfort level much either.

Monica chose this moment to reappear, cutting short her mental replay. “Finding the St Andrews cross comfortable are you? Well I’m afraid that’s not going to last. I’ve got some bad news for you. I’ve reviewed your work for the day, and it appears that 10 of the chores that were on your list have been left undone. That’s 10 demerits. Your pitiful escape attempt will earn your an extra 5 demerits and I seem to remember you earned one while I was getting you dressed in the morning. That’s 16 demerits in total. If we go for 3 swats per demerit, that’s 48 strokes,” she said brandishing a large wooden paddle. “But before we get started, I’ve got one more goody for you.” Monica started working a small butt plug into Sarah’s rear. “I think you will find that this renders the simple act of being paddled into an unforgettable experience.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! The first few strokes brought tears to Sarah’s eyes as her ass began to sting. With each blow, the plug shifted inside her and sent waves of sensation pulsing through her. As the swats continued, the initial sting faded, but was replaced by a fiery burn that grew hotter and hotter. Monica generally alternated between Sarah’s left and right cheeks, pausing every now and then to judge the effect and deliver a few carefully chosen swats to even things up. “Aww, is your bottom getting a little sore? It’s turning a lovely shade of red.” Monica paused to run her hands over Sarah’s cheeks. “Ooh, you’re burning up, I know just the thing for that.” She retrieved a large chunk of ice from a nearby bowl and pressed it firmly against Sarah’s burning ass.

In contrast to the heat, the touch of the ice felt like a searing brand. Sarah shrieked despite the gag and bucked against the straps. Once the initial shock had passed, the cool of the ice began to feel good, easing the burning. But as Monica kept the ice pressed against her, it stopped feeling soothing and began to be uncomfortable. Monica pulled the ice away and ran her hands over Sarah’s cheeks again. “Now, your ass is all cold. Well I guess we know the solution to that, don’t we?” She grabbed the paddle again, and resumed work.

By the time Monica had finished, Sarah’s bottom was glowing bright red and felt like it was on fire. She didn’t think she would be able to sit down for a week.

12) Sleep tight or No rest for the wicked

“Now lets get you bedded down for the night. I think your transgression calls for a more interesting sleeping arrangement than last night’s, but since it was your first offence, we’ll start you off with a clean slate in the morning.

Monica refastened the collar and chain that Sarah has worn this morning. “Give me any trouble and I can retract this chain in an instant. Then we’ll see how you like sleeping standing up. So are you going to be a good girl?” Sarah considered the prospect of having to stay awake all night, every lapse in concentration resulting in painful choking and nodded meekly. Monica released her from the cross and ordered her over to the bed.

Lying on the bed was what looked almost like a sleeping bag except it appeared to be cut very snugly and was made out of something that looked rather like spandex, only thicker. There was a sturdy zipper that ran down the front from the neck to knee level.

Following Monica’s instructions, Sarah climbed onto the bed and started working her body into the bag. As she had thought, the bag was cut to fit snugly around her body and force her legs tightly together. While stretchy, it had only an inch or so of give. Once her body was fully within the bag, Sarah started to work her arms into the bag. It turned out there were internal sleeves that would keep her arms pinned securely by her sides.

Once Sarah was safely inside the bag, Monica advanced and started pulling up the zip. “The material this is made from is called Darlex. I think you will find that although stretchy enough to be comfortable, it’s completely inescapable.” Monica paused when the zip was at thigh height to work a vibrator inside Sarah and remove the collar and chain. She then resumed pulling the zip up to close the high collar snugly about Sarah’s throat.

Monica buckled straps around Sarah’s body at the level of her ankles, knees, waist and neck and above and below her breasts. “We wouldn’t want you to accidentally roll off the bed now would we?” she said, clipping leads to these straps and linking them to rings on the bed frame so that Sarah was pinned securely in the middle of the bed.

“Just a couple more details then I’ll leave you to get what rest you can. I’m about to activate a program. It’s designed to trigger the two vibrators I’ve left to keep you company in a random pattern. I’m afraid that after each vibration, they’re set to give you a short but unpleasant shock. Got to keep things balanced, can’t have the good without the bad. But anyway, I’m afraid that based on my previous experiments, the frequency and duration of the periods of vibration are such that you’re unlikely to manage an orgasm. But they are random after all, you never know, you might just get lucky. Oh and one last thing. When I remove your gag, you should be aware that this room is equipped with the equivalent of a baby monitor. If you make a noise louder than a low moan, it triggers a shock immediately.”

“Sleep tight,” Monica said as she unbuckled the ballgag and left the room. The vibrators kicked into action, starting a fire building in Sarah’s loins. The feeling grew, pushing her towards the edge, only to be extinguished frustratingly quickly when the vibration was replaced with a brief but painful buzz. After 15 minutes of blessed peace, Sarah was just drifting off to sleep, it had been a tiring day after all. Then the vibrators kicked into action again, jolting her awake. After two or three cycles, Sarah was desperately bucking her hips and trying to get her hands somewhere useful so she could get enough stimulation to climax. But it was hopeless and she gave up with a sigh. It had been a long day, but it looked like it was going to be an even longer night. And tomorrow was another day.

05.02.07

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