A Slave's Tale Ch. 02

z opened the door just as Molly got to it. "Welcome, Miss. I'm glad you could make it," the self-proclaimed slave woman said.

"I was glad to get your call, z," Molly responded, smiling. "You did offer to let me observe you being trained in housecleaning by that Mistress that you told me about last time. I'm curious to see how you both interact." She saw that z was dressed only in black underwear, consisting of a half bra, garter belt and stockings, and panties. The black outfit went well with the woman's flaming red hair, but Molly was surprised she had on any clothing at all, since the last time they'd met, z had been naked. Not knowing what to expect, or if they'd end up at some alley or something, Molly was wearing a simple T-shirt, panties, jeans, and a rather beat up pair of slip-ons.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss. She called and said she couldn't be here today, after all." Seeing Molly's look of disappointment, she grinned. "Don't worry, Miss. I plan to make your trip worth your while. Before we get started, though, I have one request."

"Oh? What's that?" Molly asked.

"Well Miss, I read the story you wrote about me, and I loved it -- every bit of it. You seemed to capture my thoughts and feeling quite well, and I thank you for that. But you spelled my name with a capital 'z' and not the lowercase 'z' which I use. It symbolizes how I feel about my status, Miss."

"Oh! I had no idea. The letter was only spoken, and I never saw it written down. I apologize. I'll be sure to get it right in any future stories, OK?"

"No need to apologize, Miss," z said, blushing. "You had no way of knowing, so it's really my fault for not informing you. Now that it's settled, please have a seat while I make a phone call."

Molly sat down as z went into the next room. From where she was sitting, she could see the woman run her finger on a folded newspaper, consulting it, as she picked up the phone and dialed. Molly couldn't hear what was being said, but z was smiling as she spoke, obviously pleased and looking forward to what was being discussed. Once everything was settled, z hung up and returned to her guest.

"Let me fetch us some refreshments while we wait, Miss. I have them already prepared, and we can chat for a bit." z took a couple of trips to the kitchen, first bringing forth a tray of sandwiches, cookies, chips, and cheese and crackers. Her second trip brought another tray with glasses, iced tea, lemonade, and a bucket of ice. She served Molly, and then herself. "Oh, yes. I'd better make certain the front door is unlocked," she murmured, mostly to herself. She checked it, and then sat in a chair as the two of them chatted. z answered more of Molly's questions about various things, but said nothing about what was about to happen, telling Molly she preferred it to be a surprise.

Molly was fine with that, since the suspense was rather exciting. What was also exciting was seeing z's nipples peeking out over the top of her half bra, bobbing up and down gently as z gesticulated when answering some question or other. z ate very little, but drank a couple of glasses of lemonade.

When the two women heard a car pulling close to the house, z told Molly, "Please don't be alarmed by anything that happens, Miss. I know and trust this person." She set down the glass she'd been drinking from, and sat back.

Molly barely had time to register what z had just said when the front door opened. A large man walked in, shut the door, and twisted the deadbolt closed. He uttered not a word as he strode over to where z was sitting. Grabbing her by the scruff of her neck, he threw her off her chair onto the floor in front of him as he dropped the sports-type duffel bag he was carrying.

Molly sat in shock as she watched the man grab a handful of z's magnificent hair to pull her to her knees, facing away from him. With a swift movement of both of his hands, he seized z's wrists, dragging them behind her back. Holding her wrists with one of his massive hands, he reached into the duffel bag and brought out a length of rope. With that rope he began tying z's wrists together.

"No! Please no!" z moaned. She struggled as the ropes tightened on her wrists. Molly was about to leap from her chair to try to intervene when she remembered z's cautioning about not being alarmed, so she stopped herself.

The man grabbed more rope out of his bag and skillfully tied an intricate weaving around his struggling captive's elbows. Slowly pulling on that rope, he drew z's elbows together behind her back. Molly stared, amazed at how limber the woman must be to make that possible.

"Please don't!" z pleaded. "Stop! Let me go! Help!" she whined and whimpered.

Ignoring her, the man pulled a long strip of cloth from his bag and placed it across z's lips, pulling it taut behind her head, forcing it past her lips, and creating a gag. Now her protests became inarticulate mumbles, as wide-eyed, she shook her head in a 'no' signal. Molly watched as the man hoisted her up onto his shoulder, and carried his bag and the squirming woman into the basement. Feeling a little reassured by the guy's familiarity with the layout of the house, she followed, descending the basement steps.

As Molly's eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, she saw it had indeed been converted to a dungeon. z'd told her this, the time they'd spoken earlier, but now Molly was seeing it first hand. She was fascinated by the wooden structures like a frame, cross, and saw horse with their many places to secure ropes. Metal rings hung from the ceiling. A cabinet contained what looked like riding crops, floggers -- even a whip. And many drawers were present, whose contents Molly couldn't even hazard guesses about.

There was a mattress on the floor, and the silent man unceremoniously dumped z onto it, rolling her face down and straddling her legs, pinning them down. Pulling a longer piece of rope out of his bag, he tied it carefully to the rope that was binding z's wrists together. Once that had been accomplished, he hauled z up onto her feet next to the bed, under an iron ring secured into a ceiling joist. Reaching up, he threaded the rope through the ring, and pulled on it until z's wrists were dragged up, making her bend over. She was apparently protesting through the gag as her arms became almost vertical behind her back.

Molly saw a chair positioned where she'd have a good vantage point for observation, so she walked over and sat down. From there, she watched as z struggled and danced in her awkward bondage. She couldn't dance long, however. The man worked swiftly, first securing z's ankles together with a length of rope, and then using another to bind her knees together. Molly couldn't help but admire the skill with which he worked. When he'd finished, z was only able to wriggle her hands up high above her back, and make tiny hops on her toes, mumbling furiously.

Satisfied that z was now immobilized properly, the man turned his attention to Molly. For the first time since his arrival, he spoke as he approached her. "Hello. You must be Molly. z told me that you'd be observing today." He held out his hand in greeting. "My name is Sven, but most people call me Master Sven, or just plain Master." He had a winning smile as he said this.

Molly felt her heart flutter -- actually flutter -- as his warm, powerful hand enveloped hers. His grip was strong and controlled, but she assumed, given his muscularity, that it could be bone-crushing if necessary. They shook hands in greeting. Master Sven's gray eyes looked at her with an intensity that made her blush. She decided she had to say something. "Very nice to meet you. You have amazing skills at controlling her, I see. But she was saying things like 'no' and 'stop' but you didn't. I almost jumped up to try to come to her aid."

He laughed softly. "Yes, she was saying those things. But that's part of the game. She can struggle, and plead, and try to resist as much as she wants. That's part of what makes it exciting for her. But if she'd used her safeword -- which is the word 'cabbage' by the way -- I would have stopped immediately. That's why we have safewords in bondage. So the person has a way to communicate actual distress."

Molly's eyes widened. "Oh! I see! That makes perfect sense. But now she's gagged, and can't speak clearly. How can she do that now?"

"An excellent question. I can see you're as intelligent as z said," he stated, grinning. His flattery made Molly blush like a schoolgirl with her first crush, and her heart felt like it was jumping around inside her chest. Was he emitting some sort of pheromone? He went on to answer her. "When gagged, z can signal her safeword to me. It can either be having her nod her head vigorously in a 'yes' motion, or scream loudly into the gag three times in rapid succession, or both. My job is to be cognizant of such signals from her, when she's in my control."

They both looked at the woman in question. Her struggles had made her tits fully pop free from her bra. Those magnificent globes were now dangling and bobbing under her twisting torso. Her flame red hair was a little damp with sweat, and hanging down, obscuring her face. "Excuse me a moment," he said. Taking another bit of rope, he gathered up z's hair, tying a slip knot around it, and ran that rope to the one binding her elbows together. This swept her hair up out of the way, giving them a look at the expressions on z's face, which ranged from glaring anger at being trussed up, to ones pleading for release.

Master Sven came back to where Molly sat. Molly asked, "So she's not really angry, or begging to be let loose?"

"Oh no. Not at all," he replied with a chuckle. "She may even be working herself up to an orgasm, struggling like that. Her thighs are probably rubbing against her labia and clit as she hops up and down." Molly looked at z's thighs, fascinated.

After they observed the trussed up woman for perhaps ten minutes, Master Sven cleared his throat, and said, "z also told me that, since you're a very curious woman, you might like to experience being tied up a little, yourself. Is this true?"

Molly's heart, which had been leaping all over the place with excitement seemed to stop, as did her breathing. Did she hear that right? Was this man offering to tie her up? For real? Should she let him? Should she trust him? z said she trusts him, but is that good enough? She remembered how wet she'd gotten, listening to z's recounting of her adventure with the training and her method of paying the Mistress for that lesson. How she'd gone home after leaving z's house, driving fast, barely able to keep her hands away from her clit as she drove. How she raced into her house, and jilled herself into a series of spectacular orgasms -- just from hearing z's story.

He was patiently waiting for an answer. What should she say?

Then Molly remembered that z had recounted being whipped into submission for that adventure. She shuddered. She was certainly not into pain. She'd better be honest with this man.

"Well," she said, but her voice squeaked and cracked from nervousness. It didn't help much that he grinned broadly, hearing her attempt to answer. She wet her lips, swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "Well, I'm not completely adverse to the idea," she admitted. "But I don't want to be whipped, or anything like that." The moment she said those words, she realized she'd never have imagined having to make such a statement to anyone.

Master Sven smiled. "I'm glad you're being open about any limits you may have, Molly." His voice was so melodious that it felt like silk was stroking her skin, raising goosebumps. "I assure you, I have nothing like that in mind for you. And, of course, you'll have a safeword, if you want to try this, and I promise not to gag you. That is, unless you beg me to." He winked roguishly, which actually made her titter. "You'll be able to verbally safeword, telling me to stop immediately, if I'm doing something you don't like. I'd suggest a simple word like 'red' as your safeword, if you want to do this."

Molly said, "Red." Master Sven's face momentarily registered disappointment. Understanding why, Molly quickly added, "No. I wasn't invoking the safeword. I was just repeating it automatically to remember it." His face cleared into a smile like the sun breaking through an overcast day. "I'm... I'm willing to try." She paused a moment, then asked, "Should I call you Master?"

He mock growled, "You'd better, if you know what's good for you, slut." Molly gasped a tiny gasp, and her goosebumps raised even higher as a thrill shot through her body. Her erect nipples, poking hard against her T-shirt didn't resemble goosebumps at all -- they looked more like pencil erasers.

Molly fixed her attention on z's still struggling, twisting efforts, seeing the sheen of sweat on her exposed flesh. Small drops were being flung from the tips of the bound woman's nipples as she exerted herself. Molly uttered a single syllable, saying, "Oh!" as Master Sven looped a doubled over rope across her lower chest, tying it snugly behind the upright back of the chair in which she sat.

She'd didn't protest, but she did watch as he proceeded to tie long sections of rope that looped around her forearm and the open chair arms, starting at her wrists and ending at her elbows, where the ropes were knotted in place. It became obvious why this chair was present in the dungeon now. It was perfect for binding a person in place on it. Molly waited until he stepped back, and then tested her ability to move. She could move her head side to side, and wiggle her wrists and fingers -- that was about all she could now do with her upper body! She was caught! Unbidden, instinctive fight or flight hormones entered her bloodstream as she tugged at the restraints. The rush of adrenaline was making her giddy. Or was it z's partial nudity? Or was it Master Sven's confident masculinity? Whatever it was, Molly found she rather liked it. Perhaps more than she'd have guessed.

"What now, Master?" she whispered, her voice quavering slightly.

He stroked his chin. "Hmmm. What now? I believe I should at least partially unwrap the gift you've given me." Saying that, he grasped Molly's T-shirt at each side just above where the ropes encircled her chest, and began pulling upward. Inch by inch, he carefully worked the lower part of the material up through the space between rope and skin.

Realizing that he was going to expose her tits, Molly's excitement caused her to start hyperventilating. Curiously enough, intentionally or not, those movements of her chest actually helped him free the trapped material more easily. Her belly became uncovered, then her lower chest, and finally... her breasts. He gathered the freed material into a roll that encircled her torso just below her armpits. Molly felt the cooler air wash over every bit of her exposed flesh. Her areolae joined her nipples in signaling her arousal.

Master Sven knelt alongside her. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, even though he wasn't touching her. He was kneeling and looking at her intently, from her face to her breasts and back. Molly didn't think any man had ever gazed at her with such intensity before. An infinity of time passed by before he actually touched her.

When he finally did, he stroked her hair! Here she was, virtually naked from her waist up, and he touched her hair?! He took his time doing it, too. Molly sat, topless, looking at a bent-over, bound redhead, writhing in her rope restraints as this hunk of masculinity ran his hands lightly through her hair. The situation sure felt bizarre, to say the least. She shivered in the chair as his hands started stroking her chin and neck. She shivered harder as they caressed her exposed collarbone. Her tits seemed to engorge and inflate, poking her nipples even farther forward, bobbing up and down with her deepening breaths. Her breasts seemed to be calling out to him, begging for him to touch them. Maddeningly, minute after minute passed by with him tormenting her in this manner.

Subconsciously, Molly was straining at the ropes binding her to the chair, emulating z's actions in her restraints. Her muscle contractions were heating her body, and sweat beads were forming on her forehead and arms. Her armpits had tiny trickles of fluid, whose scent was definitely adding to the signals of her arousal.

As Master Sven's finger finally brushed along Molly's tits, she actually shrieked, "Yes!" His finger tip moved in a circular fashion around the base of each globe, spiraling up toward, but not making contact with, her areola. What a delicious agony she experienced! No wonder he wanted her tied to the chair!

Master Sven stood up, and moved behind Molly's chair. His hands came over her shoulders, and he took each nipple gently between index finger and thumb. With the tiniest of squeezes, he gave Molly her first orgasm! She thrashed in the chair, her jeans getting soaked through. He waited until her ragged breathing was somewhat normal, and then gave her nipples a soft tweaking action. Her cunt went into spasms anew! She seldom climaxed from breast play alone, and Master Sven had easily brought her to her peak twice in rapid succession! Was it the binding? The mixed scents produced by her and by z? The setting? Or just his skill?

Molly had no idea how much time had actually passed, but now z was no longer thrashing. She was hanging limply, looking exhausted. Master Sven left Molly and walked over to where the redhead was secured. He untied her hair, and then grabbed a handful of it at the back of her head. Pulling on it, he made her look him in the eye. Satisfied with what he saw, he cut the rope looped through the iron ring, and flopped her onto the mattress.

After turning z face down, Master Sven untied her elbows and knees, and removed the strip of cloth that acted as a gag. Minutes later, he'd secured her in a hogtie formation -- knees and elbows out, bound ankles tied to bound wrists. During this, z remained limp and passive... unresponsive to what was being done.

But when Master Sven grasped z's panties, stretching them upward, off her butt, the woman sprang back into action. Again, the basement dungeon echoed with her pleadings of 'no' and 'please not that' and 'stop' and shrieks of dismay. This time, Molly noticed the lack of z's safeword, so she grinned, hearing the woman's protests. For his part, Master Sven merely ignored z's vocalizations, lifting her by her panties high enough to control her.

Fascinated, Molly watched as he reached into his bag and drew out a pair of scissors. With several careful snips, z's panties became a useless scrap of cloth as her ass and cunt were exposed. Useless? Not quite. Master Sven rolled the cloth into a tube, and stuffed it into z's mouth, tying it in place again with the strip of cloth that had gagged her earlier.

He ran his fingertips over the region of z's puffy, gaping labia and they came away wet. He showed that wetness to Molly, and then used it to lube a strand of rubbery anal beads. It sounded like z might be swearing furiously as the helpless redhead first felt him prodding her ass hole with a wet finger, and then inserting the anal beads. Mesmerized, Molly mentally counted each bead as it vanished from sight -- seven of them! All that was left poking out of z's ass was the rubber ring that could be used to withdraw them again. The redhead squirmed, contracting her ass muscles, as if trying to expel the toy.

Laughing, Master Sven again changed the bindings on z. When he was finished, z's elbows were again bound together behind her back, along with her wrists. Flopping her onto her back, he tied her knees together with doubled over loops of rope. Finally, he tied a rope to her bound ankles, looped it up through the iron ring, and pulled on it until z's legs were vertical, and her ass was suspended about 6 inches above the mattress. He tied that rope into place, and left her hanging and wriggling on the mattress.