tagBDSMChanging Spaces - Exploiting Amy Lynn Ch. 01

Changing Spaces - Exploiting Amy Lynn Ch. 01

byTighterPlease©

Decorating couple invites in her complicated friend.

***

Highly readable account of a pixie-ish home decorating diva who, along with a woman carpenter friend works to satisfy her master, the narrator. M/f+, BDSM, lingerie, toys, consensual, humiliation, reluctant. Girl on Girl

(A little bit of spoof here of home decorating shows that ran in early 2000's... )

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

Thursday

Over breakfast Thursday morning I learned more about Mindy's remodeling friend, Amy Lynn. Certainly I had met her, but Mindy clued me in on how Amy Lynn had been raised by strict military parents. She had not even dated until she was 18. Maturing while not allowed any male company, she had experimented with female company. She had found it to her liking. Though she told Mindy she felt bi-sexual, her preference was probably women. Amy Lynn had enjoyed a good relationship with Gennifer, an attractive, earthy, vivacious blonde; and in fact, Amy Lynn, Gen and Mindy had all attended a kick-box exercise clinic for a few weeks.

But it seemed something in the relationship had sent Gen away, and Amy Lynn didn't know what to do. Her main construction season over, she was happy to assist Mindy in our basement remodeling. Over time Mindy let her in on our penchant for bondage and domination. One night last week after an especially grueling day (and too much wine on an empty stomach), Amy Lynn revealed her particular fetish: denigration. Amy Lynn enjoyed being humiliated. That personality quirk had spooked Gennifer, who had left her friend and lover. With a second cup of coffee, Mindy and I conspired.

Mindy's mom throws a great open-house style Thanksgiving dinner, inviting many friends and family. As soon as Amy Lynn arrived, Mindy bundled her out of the living room with school-girl whispers. They were gone a long time. About an hour later, Mindy materialized on my arm with her disarming grin. "We're all set," she said. I nodded, excited about what Friday would bring.

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

Friday

At exactly one o'clock Friday afternoon, our doorbell rang, and Mindy walked to answer the door. I was not present, awaiting our guest downstairs.

Amy Lynn must have been puzzled as the door opened inward with seemingly no one there. Mindy's voice said, "Come in," and Amy Lynn stepped in as the door shut. Mindy had her back to the door and locked the deadbolt with hands behind her back. She turned to show her friend how her arms were tied behind her with loop after loop of soft white rope.

"Wow," Amy Lynn said as she unbuttoned and removed her coat. While she wore a dark red long sleeve blouse, jeans, and heeled boots, Mindy's outfit was much more dramatic. She wore a black mini-dress with a sheer virtually see-through nylon bodice, an uplifting black bra underneath. The top was sleeveless, but Mindy had elbow-length black gloves. The white rope contrasted marvelously. The hem of the dress brushed the tops of her thighs, and about 2 inches south of that began the tops of thigh-high nylon stockings. Mindy also wore her classic patent-black 4-inch pumps.

[PHOTO]

"You look great, too. Now, you're ready for this, right? No backing out now," Mindy told her friend.

"I'm ready."

With her hands tethered as they were behind her, Mindy backed up to a side table, crouched slightly and pulled out a drawer. Her grasping fingers found what she was seeking, and she strode to Amy Lynn, turned her back, and lifted hands behind her. "Here."

Amy Lynn took the heavy black leather collar, already attached to a 9-foot leather leash. Under Mindy's bemused gaze, she faced the hall mirror and brought the collar up around her throat, hesitated just a moment, then fastened the three buckles, pulling the tabs as tight as she could. The leash dangled down between her jutting breasts.

Mindy again backed down to the drawer and came up with shiny chrome handcuffs.

She tuned to her friend and backed toward her. "Now take these, clip one over one wrist, and then fasten your hands behind you."

"I thought we'd be doing this downstairs."

"We are. But I have to take you down, to present you to Master."

"Master? You're kidding, I don't have to -"

"If you want out, now's the time. But we have ground rules, and if you want to play..." Mindy left the rest unsaid.

Amy Lynn sighed, looked at her image in the mirror, and then in 2 loud "clicks", cuffed her hands behind her back.

Mindy backed to her friend, snagged up the loop end of the leash, and led Amy Lynn through the house, towards the basement stairs.

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

I heard two sets of heels clomping their way down the stairs and stood ready in the middle of the room. Slave Mindy led her charge directly to me. She turned and bent forward at the waist, holding the leash loop for me to take. I let her hold that position a while. Amy Lynn and I met eyes, her head held high by the stiff collar, her breasts pressing provocatively against her red blouse.

"Hi Amy Lynn, you look great," I said, allowing a slight smile to escape my otherwise stony exterior. I leaned in and kissed her cheek. "We wanted to thank you for your hard work in converting this basement. It's beautiful."

"We were both pleased at how it turned out, and hoped you would be pleased too," Amy Lynn responded.

I said nothing.

Mindy still bent, holding the leash.

Amy Lynn began to look nervous.

"Is that it?" I asked.

"What?" Amy Lynn, confused.

"Mindy," I took the leash from her hand.

Slave Mindy told her friend, "You must say Master, or Sir. Try it again."

Amy Lynn flushed, then looked me straight in the eye and uttered three words in precise cadence. "Yes. Sir. Master."

I led my prize to the heavy coffee table and commanded her to sit, and had Mindy perch beside her. Then I led up the wheeled tripod with our digital camera. Amy Lynn turned red with embarrassment. She started to bluster but stopped. I took a few snapshots, then directed them to turn slightly, more back-to-back so I could see their bound hands. They complied. More pictures. Lastly, I placed the length of Amy Lynn's leather leash across Mindy's lips. She bit the leather, holding it, and I have this great shot of Mindy sitting straight-backed, Amy Lynn having to lean slightly into Mindy due to the short length of her slave leash.

[PHOTO]

I wheeled the tripod out of the way, and moved the full-length mirror behind me, so that Amy Lynn could watch herself transform. As I bent to undo her boots, I commanded Slave Mindy to get the items I had left atop the washing machine in the other room.

I pulled off Amy Lynn's heeled boots, then helped her to her feet. I undid the trouser snap and pushed the jeans off, pulling them down her legs, and helping her step out of them. To my delight, I found she was wearing black leather French-cut panties. I placed the boots back on her feet, and fastened leather cuffs to each ankle. 12 inches/30 cm of chain held them loosely together.

I was unbuttoning her brilliant red blouse and getting a peek at the matching black leather bra when my slave finally returned, gripping items behind her back. Slave Mindy looked red-faced and somewhat out of breath. She dropped the two items on the table and stood by for instructions.

I finished with Amy Lynn's blouse, pushing it back over her shoulders. Our guest sat at attention in our black leather collar with leash, her own black leather panty and bra set, her boots cuffed together, and wrists fastened with steel.

"What took you so damn long?" I asked Mindy.

"I'm- I'm sorry, sir, you put the items so far back on the washer that- that- I couldn't reach them very easily," my girl stammered.

"It was a mindlessly simple task. Can't you do anything right, you twit?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amy Lynn's eyes positively shining, riveted on the scene, and flush with red at my words to Slave Mindy.

"Well if you can't help me, I must get you out of our way. Go stand in the corner, you ninny."

Mindy lowered her head and walked slowly to the corner of the room. She stood facing the wall.

"Bitch, I said get in that corner!" I exploded, and Amy Lynn's head turned to see just how angry I was.

Mindy shuffled forward until the toes of her high heeled pumps touched the walls. Then she leaned into the corner, nose at the joint, her heavy breasts spreading slightly as they pressed each wall. Although all we could see her crossed wrists and the back of her stylish short hair-cut, we heard just the faintest, slightest... sob.

[PHOTO]

From the look on her face, Amy Lynn couldn't believe what she was seeing.

I snugged a belt around her waist, then uncuffed one wrist, locking the empty cuff on the belt. I pulled the red sleeve from her free arm, then threaded a wide leather cuff around the wrist. I held up the pink t-shirt that my slave had fetched. "You're wearing this," I told Amy Lynn, and pulled her one arm through the armhole, and her head through the neck hole. I repeated the procedure with the other arm, and with a short two-headed clip, secured her leather bound wrists behind her.

Mindy had modified an older V-neck T-short of her own, grown thin with washings. She had cut inches off the bottom to make a midriff shirt and had scissored the neckline lower. As Amy Lynn was just slightly larger than Mindy, she all but swelled in the tight garment, the outline of her leather bra very apparent.

I tugged on the leash for her to arise, then led her to the armchair which we had moved to the center of the room. Slowly, I had her kneel in the seat of it, facing over the chair's back.

"Slave Mindy, do you think you are up to a simple task now?"

Her quiet but determined voice came back, "Yes Master."

"Bring me that bag now."

She practically ran to the table, snatched the bag, and bought it to me. I had her hold the slave's leash in her bound hands, and the shorter angle forced Amy Lynn to lean further forward.

I opened the lingerie bag and placed my treasures on the back of the seat. I already had the wide strip of medical adhesive tape standing by.

"Master, may I speak?" Mindy said. I nodded. "I think you should make her say it," she said.

Amy Lynn's eyes widened, confused.

"All right," I said. I held up one of the loose garments. "Do you know what these are?"

Amy Lynn nodded but stayed silent. Mindy tugged at the leash.

"What are these?" I repeated.

"Panties. Sir. " She glared at Mindy, who was smiling devilishly now.

"Can you guess whose?"

"Hers, I suppose, Sir."

"See how they are wrinkly? Would you guess that they are fresh?" She knelt still, her lips sealed shut. I balled one of my wife's underpants then held the back of my new slave's neck. "Open." I commanded.

She slowly parted her lips then opened her mouth, and I poked the soiled underwear into her mouth. She gagged slightly, then gathered herself. I held the second panty, brushed across her face, held against her nose for a few seconds to guarantee she caught the aroma, then fed that in her full mouth as well. Two wipe strips of adhesive tape were pressed across her lips and fully packed mouth.

"Now what do you make of that, pet? You prefer a woman's clit to a man's dick? Enjoy."

I crossed behind her and took the heavy dartboard from the wall. It had been mounted on a wide and secure cleat; and revealed three thick, sturdy metal rings. I helped Amy Lynn from the kneeling position and moved her to the wall. I unclipped the leash from her collar, and with another double-head clip, attached her leather collar to the center ring. While she was in no danger, she did look bizarre, as if lynched with her hands behind her back, her mouth gagged.

[PHOTO].

We reoriented the big mirror so that Amy Lynn could see herself. I took a wide black marker from my pocket. "What do you think, Slave Mindy?"

Standing by the recliner, Mindy looked thoughtful, then said, "slut."

With the marker, I wrote in large letters across the new slave's chest "S-L-U-T". I stepped back to admire my work. "Mindy, can you manage to get the spreader bar?"

She went to the closet, opened it with her bound hands, and quickly seized the meter-long rod and brought it to me. I unchained one ankle, then attached the end of the bar. Amy Lynn was forced to spread her legs as I fastened them wide apart. While kneeling in front of her, I caught the scent of her aroma. She was incredibly turned on. I uncuffed her wrists and pulled them to each of the rings on the mounting cleat. She stood spread-eagle, glaring at us, her face flushed.

And the only thing to do was to uncap a red marker and write across her white tape gag: "C-U-N-T"

[PHOTO]

With the open armed recliner next to the full-length mirror, Amy Lynn got an eyeful: her choice of either her bound self in her "slut" t-shirt and leather panties, or us as I secured Mindy in the recliner, length after length of rope holding each forearm and wrist to an armrest. Ropes drew her ankles back to the back legs of the chair. Amy Lynn soon saw that my wife wore no panties. Three of the seatbelt-style straps held her torso to the chair back.

I fetched the pecker gag from the drawer and detoured past to visit Amy Lynn. I held the fake member up to her face, caressing her cheek with it. "How about it now, Slave? Would some cock feel good down there? Instead of sucking my slave's used underpants?" Amy Lynn flushed scarlet.

I kissed Mindy passionately, earned a grin from her, then slid the cock between her lips, buckling the strap behind her. I fondled her breasts, trapped as they were between the belts above and below.

For Amy Lynn, I passed rope around her waist and up between her outstretched legs and fashioned a nice tight crotch rope. I ran the far end of it up to her collar ring. With some inventive wiggling on her part, she just might find some release from her frustration.

I snapped on the TV/VCR combo and started a favorite tape of mine, featuring women in various stages of both being roped and struggling in their bonds. There were an unusual number of highlights: surprised sorority roommates, cuffed cousins, and other beauties tied together. Food for thought for our guest, and a frustrating turn-on for my wife, I thought, as I headed upstairs to let them stew.

* * * * *

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