Association

My hands, still wrapped in the long leather gloves, had stopped their futile maneuvers to deduce what they were holding. The phallus- shaped object had a square base that disqualified all the items I could think of. And the smooth conical form of the other had me completely confused. Whatever they were, I knew I should hold onto them for dear life.

The handle seemed increasingly heavy, and I clenched my muscles one more time to steady my grip. At that moment, I felt him place something hard and cold on my nipple.

Then it went tight.

I moaned under the sharp pain, but bit harder. Don't drop it, I told myself. Just don't drop it.

The other nipple.

Oh, Lord. Focus. Bite. Hold it.

When the pain suddenly grew exponentially, and I felt my breasts sag as if stones were hanging from them, I let out a cry. I took a couple of long breaths and tried to accommodate the pain. When I came back to my senses, I realized my mouth was empty. I had also dropped one of the objects in my hands, but at the time, the fact barely registered.

"Shit." My voice was a coarse whisper. "You're not really going to use it on me, are you?"

I heard his voice close to my ear.

"Sabrina, it's about time someone whipped that pretty ass of yours."

Before I could utter a word of protest, he filled my mouth again and, in doing so, gave me the final clue about the cock thing. A gag. Shaped like a penis. No home should be without one. Nor your friendly neighborhood lunatic asylum.

He lifted the micro-skirt up my hips to expose my ass. Fear built up. He wouldn't.

A short whistling sound.

He did.

Hurt. Anger. Shame. I didn't know which was worse. I thrashed in my bonds, but it only increased the burning sting on my breasts.

"One," he counted.

This was a nightmare. He just couldn't...

"Five."

To hell with humiliation; all I wanted was for him to stop. I was frenetically jerking my head around, moaning as loud as I could.

"Twelve."

I dropped the other object as the biting straps landed on my right thigh. The pain was unbearable. My ass, my thighs, my breasts were on fire, to say nothing of the strain on my neck and shoulders. There didn't seem to be a single part of my body that didn't ache.

"Twenty-five."

Can't breathe. Stop.

"Thirty-six."

He paused.

I prayed to all deities that he would leave it there. My face was wet with tears, the blindfold stuck to my swollen eyes. If only he could take the gag off, I would beg. Anything but the whip. Please.

--GEOFFREY--

"Fifty."

I placed the whip on the floor and bent over to whisper harshly in Sabrina's ear.

"From now on, you will do exactly as I tell you the second I tell you. Any hesitation will result in more of the same, only doubled. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head vigorously.

"I'm going to remove your gag, but you are not to speak unless I ask you a direct question. In those rare instances, the only words you are permitted to say are 'yes, please.' Do you understand?"

I reached around her head, unbuckled the strap and pulled the plug out of her mouth.

"Yes...please," she rasped.

"Would you like some water?"

"Yes, please," she replied, this time with more energy.

I found a bottle of Evian and positioned the opening against her lips, allowing her to take as much as she wanted.

When she was finished, I began unlocking her cuffed ankles from the spreader bar, then untied the rope keeping her arms aloft. I had to hold her steady while she regained her balance.

"You did very well today, Sabrina. And I am confident you'll do even better tomorrow."

I left her swaying in the center of the room while I procured a few necessary items from one of my closets.

"But there's going to be a slight change in your accommodations here for the remainder of your stay."

I placed a posture collar around her neck and buckled it, forcing her chin upward. A leash dangled down between her still-clamped breasts.

Next, I took the butt plug and ran it back and forth between her legs. When it was thoroughly lubricated, I pushed it slowly into her anus, savoring the tight resistance and her plaintive squeaks and squirms. Then I did likewise with a vibrator, slipping it between the folds of her very wet sex until nothing remained visible but its control knob, which I twisted to its slowest setting.

Finally, I wrapped a leather belt around her waist, buckled it, then padlocked a second strap securely around her crotch.

"This will help prevent any accidents. In that unfortunate event, you will clean up your mess with your tongue."

Every slaver needs a proper cage, and mine was custom-built to enclose a kneeling female with handy openings to access her unprotected assets. Reinforced steel bars and three separate locks on the door, including one with a combination worthy of a bank vault, ensured it was inescapable unless I decided otherwise, as its many occupants over the years could attest, presuming their current owners still allowed them to speak in public.

I lugged the black mass onto the stage, then used a ladder to thread a chain through a pulley hanging from the scaffolding. When I was finished, I picked up the end of her leash and led her to the open door.

"Get down on your knees. Good. Now, move forward. That's it. Bend your head down."

When Sabrina was all the way inside the structure, I padlocked her ankles together and did likewise to the door behind her. With a few hearty tugs on the chain, the cage was soon hanging at eye level.

I wrapped the end of her leash around the bars lining the bottom of the cell so she couldn't move her head. The weights, still hanging from her nipples, swung gently beneath her as she struggled in her new position.

"If I hear a single sound...100."

I clicked off the lights and climbed up the stairs to cook myself a well-deserved celebration feast. But first, I would check the mailbox for any recent deliveries from Western Union.

--SABRINA--

Abandoned in total silence and darkness, I surrendered to the flood of confusing emotions. Anger. At myself, for playing a game with someone who won every time. Fury. At him. For so many reasons, I couldn't think of one in particular. Incomprehension. What did Geoffrey want? Why was he doing this to me? Utter distress. For there was nothing I could do but wait until he chose to free me.

And the waiting would be long and painful. My ass still burned from the whipping; the slightest touch from my hands, still cuffed behind my back, was unbearable. The awful plug he had forced into me made it all the more humiliating. The pinching on my breasts had weakened somewhat; I figured the blood had been squeezed out of them, but I sighed as I imagined what was happening to their pretty round shapes.

Trying to find a more comfortable position, I managed to kneel completely and lay my chest on my knees, which also alleviated the strain on my neck. However, the weight of my whole body was now centered on my folded legs, cruelly cut by the bars of my cell.

And there was the constant buzzing in my pussy. I thought I'd be able to ignore the slow vibrations, but the throbbing between my legs proved otherwise.

To distract myself, I concentrated on what I would do once I got me out of the cage. Call the association. No, they wouldn't believe me. Reason with Geoffrey. Probably pointless. Escape. Barefoot, naked, whatever it took. Just leave this hellish place.

Soon enough, the insidious humming inside me did its job, and rank arousal overwhelmed my thoughts. All I could think about was the irksome intruder, and how I could stop it. Or make it faster. I squeezed my thighs tighter and moved my hips up and down, but that made things worse. Increasingly frustrated, I felt like yelling at the top of my lungs, but sobbed quietly instead.

After a long spell, I calmed down and tried to will myself to sleep. But even that relief wasn't allowed. At best, I would doze off, only to wake up shortly later, feeling worse than before.

I began to hallucinate. I thought I heard him come in and check on me twice. I also dreamed that a black horse was licking my bare ass, cooling the wounds with its huge tongue. My reality was one of distress and chaos, and I couldn't even trust the few senses I had left.

Eventually, after what seemed like the longest night in my life--or had it only been two hours?--the vibrations stopped, and sheer exhaustion let me sink into merciful oblivion.

***

DAY 6--GEOFFREY

I woke up early that morning, anxious to begin the day. Things were going to go much smoother now. For both of us.

Control was a powerful aphrodisiac. Sabrina had given. I had taken. And now the authority in our relationship was mine, and mine alone.

Walking down the stairs to the studio, I could tell she was asleep. Good. She was going to need her strength, although she would certainly have ample time to rest. Well, remain stationary, anyway.

"The Economy of Movement," I chuckled out loud. The directors of the International Fashion Council were going to be very pleased with the results of this shoot. Not only was I taking care of their little problem, they'd even get one hell of a photo montage for their members.

Of course, the odds were good they would elect to use a different model to showcase this year's fashions, just in case the police came sniffing around. But a scrapbook chronicling the last vacation of Sabrina Taylor would make a fine addition to any private pornography collection.

Perhaps some of them were even placing bids, although the rules of the Hong Kong house specifically forbade the kenneling of livestock in its country of origin. Not my problem once the check clears.

"Good morning, Sabrina," I said as I untied the leash holding her head to the bottom bars and began lowering her cage to the floor.

I was hoping she'd respond with something inappropriate so I could gag her again, but she stayed quiet. As I unlocked the door, I decided to gag her anyway. I had no intention of providing her with the slightest opportunity for mischief.

She worked her way backward out of the cage, then stood up shakily, her feet still encased in the leather boots with the skyscraper heels. I removed her blindfold, then pulled up a chair and gestured for her to sit in it. As she sat down, she obviously forgot about the plug in her ass, or maybe it was just the lingering damage from the whip. Regardless, the resulting moan gave me the opportunity to stretch a thick rubber strap around her head and push the molded black ball deep into her mouth.

Good thing, too, as Sabrina screamed like a demon taking a bath in holy water when I removed the nipple clamps.

I unlaced and removed her boots, then took off the rest of her clothes and the collar around her neck. Finally, I motioned for her to stand so I could unbuckle the chastity belt around her groin and slip out its occupants, leaving her naked besides the gag and the handcuffs.

"Follow me...no, wait."

I went over to one of the boxes and pulled out a metal collar with two iron bars jutting from its sides, capped with matching manacles. I also pulled out a matching spreader bar for her ankles. For later.

I padlocked the big ring around her neck, then unlocked her handcuffs and did the same to her wrists so her arms stuck out as if she was being crucified. I caught myself regretting that she didn't resist. No fool she. But bad girls are so much more fun.

Clicking the leash to a loop embedded in the front of the collar, I picked up the other spreader bar, turned, and led her up the stairs to the main house, then up the stairs again to her bathroom.

"Step into the shower," I told her brusquely. When she was standing in the tub, I twisted the knobs and let the cold water cascade over her body as the hot water slowly came online. Using a sponge and then a brush, I scrubbed every inch of her flesh until she glowed bright red. After I washed and rinsed her hair, I spread and locked her ankles so I could shave her. When I was satisfied with her glass- like smoothness, I prepared the enema bottle and hung it on the shower curtain rod.

"Wait here while I fix your breakfast," I said as I inserted the nozzle.

Fifteen minutes later, I was surprised to find that she hadn't spilled a single drop. This one is strong, I decided as I removed the nozzle, then the ankle cuffs. Best not to take any chances.

I led her out of the shower, gestured to the toilet, and turned away. When I figured she was through, I motioned her back into the shower for a quick rinse, then toweled her off.

Breakfast consisted of a glass of orange juice, a few strips of bacon and a large bowl of oatmeal, which I spooned into Sabrina's mouth until she turned her head away. She seemed to realize without prompting that it was wise to eat as much as she could whenever food was offered. Had she said a single word when I removed the gag, she would have waited another 12 hours. Now she might even get lunch.

The gag replaced, I led her back down the stairs to the studio, recuffed her ankles in the spreader bar, and clipped the chain hanging down the scaffolding to her collar.

Time to unload the boxes.

--SABRINA--

Thank goodness Geoffrey gagged me. I didn't think I could have survived the shower, shaving and enema session without earning 1,000 lashes. Breakfast was easier, though. I was weak and starving, and I figured the best strategy was to gain strength.

And his confidence. I gazed down at him while he was cuffing my ankles to the bar holding my legs wide. He looked so bloody cheerful, surely presuming he'd won the game. Think again, I told myself while he unlocked my cuffs, only to lock them again once my arms were held up by the chain above my head.

"As soon as I'm out of here," I mumbled incoherently, "you'll regret ever hearing the name Sabrina Taylor. I'll ruin your fucking brilliant career."

But I was worried. If he kept me bound and/or caged, I would never escape.

"First, the obligatory leather ornament," he said as he started lacing up a black corset reaching just under my nipples.

Gosh. He missed the size this time. Way too small.

Geoffrey stepped back and pondered for a moment. Then he readjusted the chain holding my wrists up, forcing me to stand on tiptoe.

When he was satisfied with my discomfort, he placed a stool under me, and produced what looked like a huge double dildo. It wasn't hard to guess where the ends would go.

When he had thrust both prods halfway through my anus and vagina, bringing a mute scream to my gagged mouth, he strapped their common base to the stool.

"Let's get busy. Business before pleasure, y' know."

I failed to acknowledge his dubious humor as I began to comprehend this new game.

I managed to stand in the same position until he had finished shooting two rolls of film. Then I started to collapse. Little by little. The twin monster forced my openings wider, driving further inside me, threatening to rip me apart. I resisted, redressed, repelled. He loaded another roll.

Cramps in my legs. One more inch inside. I couldn't hold back a long moan as I tried, one more time, to push back the intruders. My arms pulled on the chain while my calves hurt so much, I knew I would never hold the position for more than ten seconds.

When the dildos hit my deepest core, I thought I had been struck by thunder just as lightning blinded me. His voice echoed in the distance.

"Now, this was a good one."

--GEOFFREY--

I left Sabrina writhing on the stool for almost an hour while I put away my camera gear and prepared a light lunch of grilled fish and vegetables.

"Need to keep your energy levels up," I said jauntily as I fed it to her a forkful at a time.

She glared at me with a fury that suggested if I gave her an inch, she'd be running naked down the road screaming bloody murder. I thought she'd be thankful I removed the corset and the double dildo before serving her.

"So much for gratitude," I muttered to myself. She definitely required remedial training, a refresher course in the proper etiquette to use when one is at the complete mercy of another.

It took me a moment to find it at the bottom of the box with the other props from the historical photo shoot someone had commissioned last year, but I knew it was there: an old-fashioned manacle with a length of chain running to an iron ball that must have weighed at least 20 pounds. I wrapped the bands around Sabrina's ankle, ran a padlock through the hasp and snapped it shut. Before she could complain, I stuffed the rubber gag back into her mouth.

I had to carry it for her when we went to the bathroom, but it was a small price to pay to keep her thoughts focused on topics besides escape.

Yes, she definitely needed a primer in politesse, a lesson that would resonate longer and louder than another crack of the whip. I ordered her to lie face down on the floor while I tied her wrists, and then her elbows, behind her back, followed by her thighs, knees and ankles. A single, and very short, piece of rope soon brought her feet into contact with her fingers. I snapped a few photos for my personal hogtie collection, then I left her to squirm while I went upstairs and found my wallet and car keys.

Among other errands, I was going to visit the hardware store in town that catered to professional contractors like plumbers and electricians. I only needed one item, but I needed a lot of it.

--SABRINA--

When I heard Geoffrey start the car and drive away, I wasted no time. Time to take action, if action could be taken. What would a James Bond girl do here? Probably wait for her hero to return at the last minute. Unfortunately for me, the only person who'd enter this dark room was the villain. Life was not a movie.

The hogtie position was strenuous, but it had one remarkable benefit; I could touch the ropes and work on them.

It took a long time and three broken nails, but eventually, my ankles and wrists separated, and my legs fell flatly on the floor. One down. Five to go. Plus the iron ball.

I checked for sounds outside. I reckoned he had been gone no more than half an hour; he could return in ten minutes, or two hours. I fretted over his reaction if he found me with even just one rope loose, but the risk was worth taking. Anyway, could things really get worse than they already were?

Once I could sit, I could also move. Dragging the ball behind me, I proceeded slowly to the door. There, I leaned on the wall to work my way up, then turned around to push on the light switch with my forehead. Good. Now I needed a cutting tool for the other ropes.

I surveyed the room and noticed the tall mirror on the left side of the stage. This would do. I crawled back there and almost joyfully pushed my reflection down. The frame resisted the shock, but pieces of glass spread all around, and my fingers soon held a long shard up in triumph.

I cut myself several times, once pretty badly, before all the ropes were loose, but I hardly noticed the pain. A loud "yes" broke the silence when I finally took the gag out of my mouth. Oh, this felt so good. And yet I couldn't take the luxury of congratulating myself yet. There was still the iron manacle to deal with.

Knowing I lacked the strength to break the chain or the lock, even if I found a tool to help me, I decided not to waste my precious time trying. Instead, if I could find my car keys, I would drive to the nearest police station where it would become Exhibit A as evidence of my kidnapping. Not wanting to arrive naked, I selected a short leather dress and a matching jacket from the rack of the party costumes, and headed for the door. I hadn't heard him turn any key, and indeed, the door opened easily. Onto a steep staircase.

I bent down and lifted the ball to knee level, then climbed the stairs slowly, one step at a time. I was panting heavily when I reached the ground floor, but freedom was getting closer. In the hallway, I tried to open the large wooden closet where I figured he had left my jacket and purse, but it was locked with no key in sight. Cautious man.