Jennifer and Slave Sarah

"Yes," I reply. "I don't know if it's everything, but it's as much as I can digest for now. I'm torn between thanking you and killing you for what you've done."

"Pete the pal, or Pete the pimp," muses Pete.

"Exactly. But I'm concerned about parading ourselves in front of Greg and his mates tonight. I presume you know that Greg is blackmailing Sarah-Anne by threatening to tell the neighbours that this house is registered as a brothel."

"I think Greg is joking when he makes those threats, but I can't be certain. Anyway, this house isn't registered as a brothel. Sarah's license gives this address, but a place isn't classed as a brothel unless two or more prostitutes work from the address."

"Hmm. I'm not certain the neighbours will make that fine distinction. Once it's known Sarah-Anne's license shows this address, then the self-appointed guardians of public morals will hound her out of her house. Is there anything that can be done about the license? Can it be cancelled?"

"No. The license is granted for a five year term and it can only be cancelled if Sarah is sentenced to more than six months in prison, or if she contracts an incurable STD. I don't recommend either of those courses of action. She could have the address on the license amended, but she needs to provide proof that she's living or working from the new address."

I'm stuck for ideas. My parents would throw a fit if I let Sarah-Anne use our address for her license. Besides, from what Pete says, Sarah-Anne has to be living or working there. It doesn't look as though we can do much about the license, so we'll have to find another way to negate Greg's threat.

"Sarah-Anne said Greg has offered her a job as his personal assistant. Is that true?" I ask.

"I don't know, but it would be dangerous for her to get involved with him," replies Pete. "Not all of Greg's activities are legal, and I keep well away from that side of his business interests."

"Do you mean illegal drugs and underage sex?" I ask.

"I'm saying nothing, and you didn't here anything from me about Greg's activities. Be careful."

"I note your warning," I reply coldly, wishing I wasn't getting drawn into this business, but I'm determined not to fail Sarah-Anne again.

"I like you, Jenny. Please take care. Sarah-Anne has a good friend in you. I see that you like Angels Secrets."

"Huh?"

"Angels Secrets. Your underwear. Your bra and panties are unmistakeably from the Angels Secrets brand."

"How do you know that?" I ask, puzzled by Pete's accurate observation.

"The outline of your underwear is visible through your dress. You've obviously never worn a latex dress before."

"Oh my God!" I cry when I realise that he's right. It wasn't obvious when I first put on the dress, but as I move about and the latex stretches, my dress has started to hug my skin. It's a strange feeling. "What should I do?"

"Hmm. The best option is to remove your underwear. Otherwise, wear a smooth bra and panties. Your choice, but I wouldn't go out as you are. I'm sure Sarah will have something suitable."

We wait patiently for Sarah-Anne to finish her shower and dress in whatever Greg has sent. When she returns I'll ask to borrow a suitable bra and panties and go for my own shower. Pete looks as though he's needing to go somewhere soon.

"Is your cousin waiting for you somewhere?" I ask, making an intuitive guess about the reason for Pete's errand.

"Yes," replies Pete. "I wanted to see Sarah's outfit before I left, but I'm running out of time."

Pete shouts upstairs to Sarah-Anne that he must leave now and that he will be back about thirty minutes before we need to leave for wherever we are going tonight. I'm not sure if Sarah-Anne heard, but Pete doesn't wait for a reply.

Sarah-Anne eventually emerges from her bedroom dressed in the clothes Greg has sent. I look at her and my breath is almost taken away. She is wearing a sleeveless clear plastic mini-dress which reveals all of her underwear. The plastic is thick enough not to cling to her skin. Her underwear is all white; half-cup frilly bra, suspender belt and tiny lace panties. White sheer stockings and matching elbow-length gloves complete her attire. On her feet she has a pair of transparent high healed shoes. The ensemble is very sexy, but it's not the sort of thing any respectable girl should be wearing in public. And I really want Sarah-Anne to regain some of her self-respect which she's seems to have lost over the last year.

"Is that the entire outfit?" I ask, hoping that there is something more to add.

"No, there's more," replies Sarah-Anne. "But I'll leave the rest until we are ready to leave. I've finished in the bathroom if you want to have your shower."

I look at the time and realise that I had better do as she suggests. As I leave the room I notice that it's the first time I've seen Sarah-Anne today without her steel collar and cuffs.

Chapter 4: Dinner in the Dungeon

I slide out of my dress and have a warm shower. While doing so, I quickly relieve my mounting arousal from seeing all Sarah-Anne's sexy gear this afternoon. It takes me less than a minute to bring myself to an explosive orgasm. By the time my body stops jerking I'm back in control of myself again. However, I am still thinking a lot more about sex than I normally do. I quickly dry my hair and prepare myself for a night out. Only when I come to put on the latex dress again do I remember that I didn't ask Sarah-Anne if I could borrow a plain bra and panties. I decide on impulse to firstly see whether I can get away without wearing a bra. I slip the dress over my head and smooth it over my breasts. It provides more support for my breasts than I imagined, preventing them from bouncing about. The latex is thick enough that it doesn't highlight my nipples, although you can see a slight bump if you look closely. I satisfy myself that it looks and feels okay, and for better or worse, I decide I can manage without a bra.

Going without panties is another matter entirely. I've only once worn a skirt without panties underneath, and that was for a dare. Perhaps I'm not in control of myself as much as I think I am, because I slide the dress down my body and into position to see what it feels and looks like. It's a very snug fit and the bottom of the dress isn't very wide, although it stretches a little. Walking is going to need to be done with small steps. Again, the thick latex doesn't reveal anything unseemly and my already aroused senses make the feel of the latex against my bare bottom very exciting. Despite the pleasant thrill running through me, I still hesitate to go without any panties.

It's the early return of Pete with his cousin which decides the issue for me. They are forty minutes earlier than Pete said, and I'm a minute or two from being anywhere near ready. I mentally berate them for not phoning to let us know they would be early. But then I remember Sarah-Anne doesn't have a mobile phone any more, and Pete has had her landline temporarily set to block incoming calls. A move apparently necessary to prevent Sarah-Anne from being harassed by former clients. There's no time to ask Sarah-Anne for some panties, and I finish my preparations as quickly as I can. The dress doesn't really need a belt, but I put it on anyway. I notice that it isn't a single chain but three short chains linked together by spring clips at each end of the individual chains.

I mentally prepare myself for what lies ahead. My dress helps me adopt a strange new persona which I feel I might want to explore further in the future. Once I feel ready, I go downstairs and make as graceful an entrance as I can manage in my tight dress. Sarah-Anne has obviously finished dressing in the meantime, because I presume her outfit is now complete. The remaining items of her outfit aren't items of clothing, but a wide leather collar, and strong leather wrist and ankle cuffs. The ankle cuffs have straps which pass under the instep of her shoes, binding her shoes to her feet. Small padlocks hold each cuff and the collar in place. It all makes Sarah-Anne look very sexy, but I'm not certain that it's the image she should be portraying tonight.

"Mistress, this is Pete's cousin, Danielle," says Sarah-Anne as I enter. "Danielle, this is my new dom, Mistress Jennifer."

I'm momentarily knocked out of my stride when I see that Pete's cousin is a young woman. I recall Sarah-Anne earlier referring to Pete's cousin as 'him', so naturally I assumed that his cousin was male. But there is nothing masculine about the woman with Pete. On the contrary, she's a stunning beauty who any man would long to plough. From the look on Sarah-Anne's face, she has obviously been taken unawares as well. But I suppose Daniel and Danielle sound similar, so maybe she's made a genuine mistake.

Danielle is close to Sarah-Anne and my age ... probably twenty-one or twenty-two ... it's difficult to tell at first glance. She has blond hair like Sarah-Anne, although she wears her hair in pigtails which make her look like a schoolgirl. She's dressed that way as well, although no school would permit a skirt as short as Danielle's fake uniform. I wonder whether the effect is deliberate and that Greg had a hand in her choice of attire as well. Her posture and body language suggest that she's in Pete's thrall. Is this an act or is she another slave in Pete and Greg's harem? If it wasn't for an obvious family likeness, I would begin to doubt from their behaviour that Danielle and Pete are related at all. I belatedly realise that I have a role to play tonight for which I'm seriously under-prepared.

"Are you two ready?" asks Pete. "Greg has booked a table for us at The Dosla, but they only had early-diner reservations left. I'm afraid we must vacate the table by nine-fifteen, but I'm sure we can find a club or bar to go to after."

"Nine-fifteen will be okay," I say. "Sarah-Anne and I need to be back here by nine-thirty in any case."

It's slightly later than I originally said to Sarah-Anne, but Danielle's presence rather than a male cousin has eased some of my earlier concerns. However, I'm still wary of Pete and Greg's motives.

"Oh, that's disappointing. But as you wish, Jenny," replies Pete, not taking up my challenge about the arrangements for later. "I can call you Jenny, can't I. Calling you 'Mistress Jennifer' doesn't seem appropriate in my case."

"As you wish, Pete," I reply, puzzled by his sudden theatrics. I turn towards Danielle to shake her hand as well. Instead I find her in a deep curtsy at my feet. Her actions throw me for a moment, but I quickly recover.

"Stand up, Danielle," I say, resisting my normal inclination to add the prefix 'please'.

Even though today's events have repeatedly pushed against my limits, I'm starting to warm to this dominatrix game. Yesterday I would have laughed out loud had someone suggested that I would be playing the part of a dominatrix with two submissive girls tonight. That's something I've only thought about in fantasies, and never dreamed of having the courage to do in real life. But in a space of a few hours, I'm dressed the part and actually beginning to enjoy the prospect of some harmless power-play.

"Thank you, Mistress Jennifer," replies Danielle, doing as I commanded.

"If you are ready, we had better be going," says Pete. "Fetch our coats, Danielle."

Danielle does as Pete commands. Even though Pete is her dom, Sarah-Anne looks at me as though expecting some instructions.

"Get our things, Sarah-Anne," I say, taking the silent hint from Sarah-Anne's body language.

Sarah-Anne returns a few moments later with a couple of overcoats for us both. The light jacket I wore at lunchtime is still damp and, in any case, isn't really appropriate for my current attire. Fortunately Sarah-Anne has several full length overcoats. She hands a black one to me, keeping a white one for herself. I'm about to put on the coat when Sarah-Anne hands me three other items. A small black shoulder bag, a black vinyl peaked cap and a short riding crop. I quickly put my keys, purse and phone into the bag. It's obvious where the cap goes. But the riding crop?

"Allow me, my Mistress," says Sarah-Anne. She leans forward and clips the loop at the end of the riding crop to my chain belt so that the crop hangs down over my right thigh. I note her subtle use of the word 'my' before 'Mistress', suggesting a certain amount of competition is brewing between Sarah-Anne and Danielle. I'm starting to get very strange and mildly erotic feelings at this whole scenario, but I don't lose sight of the need for caution tonight.

Pete swats Danielle on the bottom as they head for the door. In other circumstances that would have been a highly inappropriate action by Pete, deserving a slap across the face from Danielle. Instead Danielle giggles as though she's enjoying Pete's attention. I turn to Sarah-Anne to check that she's ready. For some reason she is holding back, and I suddenly wonder if she's embarrassed at going out dressed in Greg's chosen attire.

"What's the problem, Sarah-Anne?" I ask.

"I'm not properly dressed to go out, Mistress," replies Sarah-Anne.

What a time to baulk over her scanty clothing! What do I do now? Despite my role as her dominatrix, this is still a game to me. I know Sarah-Anne regards her submissiveness more as a lifestyle choice, but I'm not anywhere close to that level of intensity. Tomorrow I'll go back to my normal life, and I've no desire to order Sarah-Anne into doing something that she doesn't want to do.

"My chain, Mistress," prompts Sarah-Anne when it becomes obvious I've not understood her meaning. "You haven't attached the chain to my collar."

A few moments ago I was beginning to think that this dominant-submissive game was really good fun. But Sarah-Anne keeps pushing the limits of my comfort zone. The prospect of walking through town towing Sarah-Anne on a lead is making me uncomfortable. Yes, I know I did it at lunchtime, but then it was pouring with rain and very few people were about. Tonight the weather is fine and the streets will be crowded.

"Is there a problem," calls Pete from the door.

"We'll be one moment," I reply, summoning as much courage as I can. "Sarah has forgotten her lead. Fetch it, Sarah."

"Yes, Mistress Jennifer," replies Sarah-Anne suppressing a little smile. I belatedly realise that I called her Sarah rather than Sarah-Anne. It's a smile which annoys me for some reason and I reach for the crop. Sarah-Anne notices my action and quickly goes to fetch the chain. I finger the crop for a moment, but let go in horror when my brief anger subsides. What is happening to me that I momentarily thought about using the crop on Sarah-Anne's arse.

She returns a few moments later and I clip the chain to the ring at the front of her leather collar. I don't bother with a lock as I don't intend the chain to be kept on her for long. I grab the end and give it a sharp tug. Sarah-Anne stumbles a bit and I automatically mumble an apology for forgetting that she's wearing high heeled shoes bound to her feet.

Fortunately Pete has his car parked in Sarah-Anne's driveway and there's only a short walk at the other end to the restaurant. Nevertheless I nearly die of embarrassment when I see how many people are walking along High Street. But Sarah-Anne doesn't hesitate and I brazen it out. She walks close enough behind me for the lead to be barely visible. Pete is walking next to Danielle with his hand periodically wandering across her arse. She seems to enjoy his attention despite all the people around us. It takes yet more of my rapidly dwindling reserves of courage to enter the restaurant holding Sarah-Anne on a chain. A few customers look at us as we enter, but Sarah-Anne keeps close to me, which hides the chain. Nobody shows more than a passing interest in our party. We are shown to some lounge seats near the bar, which is partially screened from the main restaurant.

The restaurant is crowded, but there aren't too many people around the bar. I recall that Sarah-Anne thought Greg and his friends might be here for some free eye candy. I don't detect anybody paying us close attention, even after our coats are taken away by the maître d'. I remove Sarah-Anne's chain, only to realise I've nowhere to put it. I solve that problem by wrapping it round my waist as a second belt.

"Have you been here before?" I ask Pete while we wait until our table is ready.

"Danielle and I came here the other night," replies Pete. "Greg recommended it."

"Is Danielle staying with Greg for long?" I ask Pete, belatedly realising that I've directed my question to him rather than to Danielle. She is sitting passively listening to our conversation.

"It's an open ended visit. Isn't it Danielle?"

"Yes, Master Pete," replies Danielle.

"And you are really cousins?" I ask, turning towards Danielle.

"Yes," replies Pete before Danielle can respond. "Danielle is my mother's sister's youngest child. We've been close friends since we were little. Danielle finished her university degree last year and has been at a loose end ever since. Now she's considering coming to work for Greg."

"What sort of work are you considering?" I ask Danielle.

"Greg runs several businesses in the entertainment industry," says Pete before Danielle can answer.

Further conversation is halted when we are informed that our table is ready. We follow the waitress to an area at the back of the bar which I hadn't noticed before. We pass through a doorway with a sign saying 'The Dosla Dungeon' and we go downstairs into a basement. I'm flabbergasted at what I see before me. The basement is decorated like a medieval dungeon with all sorts of iron chains and contraptions scattered around the six discrete tables for diners. Five of the tables are occupied by groups wearing clothing similar to ours. Some, like Pete, are wearing normal clothes, but there are plenty wearing latex or leather gear, and well as one woman in pink frilly lingerie. The waitress shows us to the empty table and we sit down. I try to resist gawking like a tourist at our surroundings. The waitress leaves us as soon as we are settled and returns to the 'normal' restaurant upstairs.

Another waiter comes over to our table with the menus. Again I have to remember not to gawk, but my senses are going into overdrive. I'm having to fight an inner battle between shock and horror versus the erotic thrill that I don't seem able to suppress. The waiter is a young man about our age. His identity is hidden beneath a leather mask like that of a medieval executioner. I can cope with the mask, but the leather strap harness, and the almost indecent leather briefs he wears over his genitals, are making me blush. It's a good job I kept my cap on, as it partly hides my reddening cheeks.

A gentle kick from Sarah-Anne alerts me to the fact that the waiter is offering me a menu. I grab the menu with unseemly haste and busy myself with reading the list of food on offer. The description of the meals is probably the same as the menu upstairs. But down here they go under exotic titles like 'Torturer's Delight'. I select what I want to eat and look up at Pete, Sarah-Anne and Danielle. I suddenly realise that only Pete and I have been given menus, so I automatically try to hand mine to Sarah-Anne. But she quickly shakes her head and refuses to take it from me. Only then do I realise that I'm expected to choose a meal for Sarah-Anne. A different waiter comes to our table to take our order ... one dressed in more decent medieval clothing.

"Will you allow me to choose the wine?" offers Pete. I readily agree since I didn't think to look at the drinks section of the menu.

"A bottle of 'Virgin's Blood' for Jenny and I. Water for the slaves. I'll have a Torturer's Delight. Slave Gruel for my slave," says Pete to the waiter before looking to me to complete the order.