Jennifer and Slave Sarah

"Shackled Beef for me, and ... um ... Slave Gruel for ... um," I say waving in Sarah-Anne's direction, not able to refer to Sarah-Anne as 'Slave' or any other demeaning term in public. I feel bad enough ordering something called Slave Gruel for her as it is.

In reality, Virgin's Blood is a pleasant Merlot, and Slave Gruel is a thick vegetable soup served with fresh crusty bread. It is probably the 'soup of the day' on the normal menu. The portions are generous, and the soup is probably more filling than my meat and veg meal. My only concern is that Pete has ordered water for Sarah-Anne and Danielle, leaving the whole bottle of wine to be consumed by he and I. Since I've no intention of drinking more than one glass of Virgin's Blood, Pete takes it upon himself to have the rest. His eagerness to finish the bottle has unfortunate consequences. By the time we finish the main course and are waiting for dessert, Pete is well into his third glass of wine. The effects of the alcohol are swaying his judgement.

Chapter 5: Eye Candy

The desserts are delivered by another scantily clad male in a leather hood, harness, and tiny leather briefs. Sarah-Anne seems unmoved by the sight of all these male bodies tonight, which I attribute to her having seen more than enough of the male anatomy over the last year. I just hope it hasn't put her off men for life. However, Danielle and I are mesmerised by the proximity of the waiter, and our eyes don't lift above his waist. In my defence, I would challenge any heterosexual girl not to do the same. The straining leather pouch at the front of his briefs looks painful, and it's far too easy to imagine what monster lies beneath. The pouch's vertical zip, which would release his huge cock, is in danger of bursting apart.

I avoid blushing this time, mainly because I'm too aroused to feel embarrassed. Danielle isn't so fortunate, particularly when Pete instructs her to reach out and stroke the object of her attention. She baulks at Pete's command, which is clearly given under the influence of what is now his fourth glass of wine. But he insists, even though it's obvious to everyone that Danielle is uncomfortable at the prospect of doing as he commands. Having served our desserts, the waiter starts to pull away. I don't know what rules the restaurant has about such behaviour, but Pete pulls out his wallet and shoves a twenty dollar note down the front of the waiter's briefs. It's enough to halt the waiter's move and he stands still between where Pete and Danielle are sat.

"Pete. I don't think this is appropriate," I say, deciding I must say something.

"Nonsense," slurs Pete. "Do it Danielle. Now!"

Danielle is too much in Pete's thrall to disobey, and she does as she is bid. What in other circumstances would have been a pleasant thing to do turns into something sordid and ugly. Danielle removes her hand as soon as she thinks Pete is satisfied with her submission, and the waiter silently departs, twenty dollars richer.

We finish our desserts in silence. Danielle looks close to tears, but is bravely holding them back. Pete downs the last of the wine and looks at his watch. It's a little before nine o'clock so we would have time for coffee if we want. But Pete decides that it's time to leave.

"My treat tonight," says Pete. "I'll go and settle up and then fetch the car. I'll meet you in the lane by the side entrance in five minutes."

I'm a little nervous about getting into a car driven by Pete after seeing him drink all that wine. He looks very unsteady on his feet and I begin to wonder whether there's more than alcohol influencing his actions. But I don't fancy the fifteen minute walk back to Sarah-Anne's place wearing the clothes we have on. Our overcoats will hide most of what's beneath, but Sarah-Anne's ankle cuffs and shoes will be clearly visible. Sarah-Anne might also have difficulty walking so far in those shoes.

Pete's departure at least gives me a chance to talk to Danielle away from Pete's watchful eye. She's managed to compose herself, but still looks far from the contented submissive who entered this restaurant.

"You need to think carefully before accepting Greg's offer of work," I say to Danielle, although my words equally apply to Sarah-Anne. "You mustn't let Greg or Pete treat you like Pete did with that waiter."

"I know," replies Danielle. "But Greg loaned me money when I was studying and I had to work for him until I repaid my debt. I've cleared what I owe him but he has certain photographs of me which he has threatened to send to my parents if I don't agree to continue working for him. My parents will disown me if they see those photos."

Greg obviously likes deriving his power over women through blackmail. Unfortunately there isn't much that we can do about that at the moment. We vacate the table and go upstairs to the bar area to retrieve our coats.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," says the maître d' in answer to my request for our coats. "Your gentleman friend took your coats with him. He said he would bring your car to the lane at the side, and that you wouldn't be needing them."

I look at Sarah-Anne and Danielle, who are as puzzled by this as I am. The maître d' isn't happy with us walking through the main restaurant dressed as we are, so he shows us to the side entrance. I realise that this discrete side entrance is for the benefit of patrons who aren't appropriately dressed for the eyes of normal customers.

Fortunately it's a warm night and we aren't too chilled standing in the private lane at the side of the restaurant. Pete shouldn't be more than a minute or so away. The lane is well lit and there are security cameras overhead. The side door to the restaurant is just behind us, so at any sign of danger we can quickly go back inside. We can see people walking along Masons Road at the end of the lane. It's not as busy as High Street, but there are enough people about to deter any would be attacker. Even so, the three of us remain alert. I notice that Sarah-Anne hasn't wanted her lead attaching to her collar, so she's clearly uneasy.

The sound of a group of men having a good time attracts my attention. They are walking along Masons Road and talking loudly. To my alarm they stop at the end of the lane and turn towards us. They take a few steps into the lane, but then stop about twenty metres from where we are standing.

"Greg and his friends, Mistress," says Sarah-Anne. "I said they would be close by, wanting to ogle at us. I think we've been set up."

I think so too. Pete and Greg are bastards for setting us up this. To me it is a watershed moment. There's no way I'm getting into Pete's car tonight, or having anything to do with him again. I'm determined to help Sarah-Anne get free of his and Greg's clutches ... Danielle too, if I can.

I don't know which of the five well-dressed men is Greg. They are standing in a line across the entrance to the lane. So far they are just talking among themselves and aren't making any overt threat against us. I suspect they aren't really dangerous. Despite their expensive clothes, they are just boorish louts who want their free eye candy. Calling the police would be pointless ... they'd take one look at our attire and tell us that we deserve the unwanted attention we are receiving.

By now Pete has had more than enough time to bring the car and his continued absence only confirms that we've been set up. I suppose Pete will be parked nearby waiting until his brother and his mates have finished with their fun. One of the men walks down the lane towards us. He stops a few metres from where we are standing and tosses a small plastic bag at our feet. He turns around and walks back to where his mates are standing. Once he's at the other end of the lane, Sarah-Anne moves forward to pick up the bag.

"Leave it, Sarah," I say urgently.

"No, Mistress. This is for me. It's part of their game. We aren't in any danger if we simply play along. It's me they want to humiliate. You and Danielle need only stand aside and do nothing."

I hold out my hand and Sarah-Anne reluctantly gives me the bag. Inside are four padlocks in an unlocked position, together with a small box with what looks a timer on the lid. I examine the box trying to work out its purpose.

"The keys to the padlocks are in the box, Mistress," says Sarah-Anne. "Once the timer reaches zero, the box can be opened and the keys retrieved. Pete's left a similar box back at my house with the keys to the padlocks on my collar and cuffs."

I look at the timer which shows just under two hours left to run. I put the locks and box back in the bag.

"We're not playing their game," I growl.

"It's okay, Mistress," pleads Sarah-Anne. "Really. They think they are humiliating me, but these locks will have the reverse effect on me."

"And where are we supposed to place these locks?" I ask, wondering if Sarah-Anne is telling the truth.

"One on my collar chain, one locking my wrist cuffs together and two on either end of the chain linking my ankles. We will need to use your belts for the chains."

I'm still far from happy about playing this vile game, but I also remember that Sarah-Anne always loved being tied up when we were younger. Perhaps that fetish has grown into something stronger in the intervening years. It's only the look of excitement on Sarah-Anne's face that makes me agree. I remove both belts from around my waist and detach the riding crop which I give to Danielle to hold. I fasten the single long chain to Sarah-Anne's collar.

"Hands together, Sarah," I say when I'm ready with the next lock.

I was planning on locking her wrists in front of her, but Sarah-Anne promptly crosses her wrists behind her. I don't argue, and padlock the rings on her wrist cuffs together.

"Are you sure you are okay with this?" I say while we are close together.

"Yes, Mistress Jennifer," replies Sarah-Anne. "Single chain on my ankles, please Mistress."

I look at the other chain which is made up of three shorter chains clipped together. A single chain seems too short to my mind, making it difficult for Sarah-Anne to do more than shuffle along. Two chains would be a better length, allowing her to walk normally apart from the effect of the dragging chain. But again I defer to Sarah-Anne's wishes and lock a short chain in place. I hand the remaining chain to Danielle for her to carry. She can use it as a weapon if things go seriously wrong. Finally I squeeze the small box with the keys into my bag.

I don't need Sarah-Anne's prompting to know that we are now expected to walk out of the lane to wherever Pete is waiting with the car. I take the riding crop in one hand and Sarah-Anne's collar chain in the other. Delaying our departure would only provide more entertainment for the louts, so I start walking towards the road. Sarah-Anne has no option but to follow me, but I leave it up to Danielle to decide whether she wants to comes as well, or to return inside the restaurant. She decides to follow me, although she keeps Sarah-Anne and I between her and the men.

We can't walk very fast since Sarah-Anne's ankle chain severely restricts her movements. I also need to be careful she doesn't fall. Her shoes are bound to her feet and she could break her ankle if she fell awkwardly. The men part to let us pass. They don't say a word, although their eyes never leave us. When we reach the end of the lane they decide they've seen enough and move on. I look up and down the road to see where Pete's car is parked. I've no intention of riding in it, but I need to retrieve our coats. The problem is that there's no sign of Pete's car.

Sarah-Anne is attracting the attention of passers-by. Fortunately at this time of night most people are simply out for a good time, so are less likely to present us with problems. A few people stop to ask us what is going on, and I pass Sarah-Anne's situation off as part of her hen-night revels. My ruse seems to work and we travel along Masons Road towards High Street at a snail's pace.

I stop occasionally to check that Sarah-Anne is alright. I soon realise that I don't need to worry on her account. She's lost in a private fantasy world. This whole scene is really turning her on. Her obvious arousal is having a strange effect on me as well.

"You had better not be getting aroused, Sarah," I tease, more to calm my own feelings in that department. This isn't the time for distraction, no matter how pleasant. I playfully swat her thigh with my riding crop. Her gasp in response shows my action has had the reverse effect on her to the one I intended. If I'm not mistaken, Sarah-Anne has just had an orgasm in the middle of the street.

Danielle is much more in control of herself. It's obvious that the submissive side of her nature is something she can switch on and off at will. I'm sure that if I gave her an order there would be no submissiveness in her reply.

We reach the junction of Masons Road and High Street without any serious problems. So far our appearance as exuberant girls on a hen night has earned us nothing worse than a few harmless inquiries, and the jeers and lewd calls from the hoons in a passing vehicle.

Walking down High Street is going to be trickier. We are moving away from the entertainment district, so our attire is more questionable. A car pulls up beside us and the driver lowers the window. I prepare for some lewd comments but instead we get asked if we want a ride home.

To my surprise and relief the driver is Adam Forrester, Sarah-Anne's former boyfriend. Sarah-Anne immediately comes to her senses and greets Adam with a joyful smile. She doesn't seem the least bit ashamed at being bound and so scantily clad in his presence.

"What happened to that jerk who was with you?" asks Adam when we are in his car.

"He took our coats and then dumped us. I didn't see you earlier," I say, realising Adam must have noticed us earlier tonight.

"Adam was in the restaurant, Mistress Jennifer," says Sarah-Anne. "You probably didn't recognise him with his hood on."

"You were one of the waiters!" I say, hoping he wasn't the one whose bulging briefs caught my attention. No such luck; that was Adam. Danielle is really embarrassed and starts to apologise.

"It's not a problem," laughs Adam. "It happens all the time. The pay isn't much but the tips are great. But your friend over-tipped. For twenty dollars you could have undone the zip. As long as you are discreet, pretty much anything is tolerated in the Dungeon."

"I thought you worked at the garage on Westridge Road," I say.

"Yes. But a trainee mechanic isn't paid much, so I supplement it by working in the Dungeon on Friday and Saturday nights. I can earn nearly as much in tips there as I get from working at the garage. As I'm sure you've noticed, I've a certain anatomical asset which women seem to find fascinating."

"You've finished work early tonight though," I comment.

"No," replies Adam. "Male waiters only do the early-diner session. The later diners get scantily clad waitresses to delight them."

Adam parks in the driveway of Sarah-Anne's house so that we can get into the house without any nosy neighbours seeing us. He helps Sarah-Anne out of the car, which isn't easy in her current bound state. I can't help but notice the chemistry working between them, and I detect a certain longing. But something is holding each of them back from showing how they really feel about the other. It's as though both of them are waiting for permission.

"Will you two kiss each other, for goodness sake," I say.

"Thank you, Mistress," sighs Sarah-Anne, and Adam leans forward to oblige.

We reach the door and find our coats lying in a heap on the doorstep. There's a thick envelope as well, with the words 'Your contract. Sign it by next Saturday' written on it. That suggests that Greg has been here. Danielle leans down to retrieve her coat.

"Yuck! It's all wet," says Danielle, dropping it. "And smelly."

I look at the other coats as well. Both have a large wet patch on them. It hasn't been raining so I can only assume that Greg, or perhaps Pete, is the source of the damp. I bend down and detect the strong smell of urine.

"Disgusting animals," I fume. "Leave them for now and clean them up in the morning."

The next challenge is to get into Sarah-Anne's house. She isn't wearing anything capable of holding her house key so I look to her for instructions on how to open the door.

"The lock has an alternative combination mechanism," says Sarah-Anne. She indicates where the key pad is located and tells me the combination, since she's in no position to enter it herself. I key in the number and there's a satisfying click to indicate the door is unlocked. We all go inside.

"I think we could all do with a hot drink," I say, making a move for the kitchen.

"My job, Mistress," says Sarah-Anne, shuffling towards the kitchen in an amusing attempt to head me off.

The look of determination on her face stops me from dismissing her offer as ridiculous. Her hands are fastened behind her back and the time lock on box holding the keys has another hour and a bit to run. But she is determined and I defer to her wishes. Incredibly she manages to fill the kettle and prepare our drinks. Fortunately everything is at a height she can reach, which makes me wonder whether that's deliberate and that she's done this before.

I turn my attention to Danielle's situation. There's no way I can let her return to Greg tonight. As I noticed earlier, the submissive female has long gone, and Danielle is very much in control of herself. She's even undone her pigtails and she now looks her real age.

"Do you have anywhere to stay other than Greg's place?" I ask.

"My brother, Graham, and his wife live across town," replies Danielle. "If I can borrow your phone, I can ring Graham to ask him to come and pick me up. I'll be safe enough at his place and I can deal with Greg tomorrow. Greg is my cousin, so I can't simply ignore him. Thank you for all your help tonight but I'll be fine from here."

Danielle makes her call, and Graham says that he'll be here in half and hour. We collect our drinks from the kitchen, since it is beyond Sarah-Anne's ability to serve them to us. Adam and Sarah-Anne sit on the rug side by side, and Adam periodically lifts Sarah-Anne's mug to her lips. It's a delightful scene after the ugliness of earlier.

Chapter 6: Sleeping in Bondage

I would prefer to wait until we can free Sarah-Anne's restraints before returning to my own home. I'm usually allowed out until midnight before I start getting anxious calls from my parents. While I can come and go as I please during the day, I'm expected to sleep at home unless I make prior arrangements. In theory I have enough time to wait for another hour, but getting a taxi late on a Saturday night is problematic, and I wouldn't contemplate walking that far alone at this time of night.

Danielle's brother, Graham, arrives just as we are finishing our drinks. I open the door and show him in to where Danielle is waiting. In the few moments it has taken me to answer the door, Sarah-Anne has left the room. I realise that she probably doesn't want Graham to see her in her current state. I suspect it is more to save Graham any embarrassment than an attempt to protect her own modesty. Graham looks a little disturbed at the sight of me in a latex dress, so I dread to imagine what he would think of Sarah-Anne's current attire.

Danielle thanks me for what I've done tonight, and assures me that she'll be fine from here on. I hand Danielle a plastic bag so she can retrieve her soiled coat from the outside porch. I don't know how she is going to explain the coat to Graham but that's something I'm sure she can manage without help from me.

Once Danielle and Graham have gone, Sarah-Anne reappears from the downstairs bathroom. She shuffles towards where Adam is sat on the floor. She still has a look of ecstasy on her face, and I think if I left Sarah-Anne and Adam alone they would renew their friendship in the most intimate way possible regardless of Sarah-Anne's bound state. I'm not an expert in such matters, but even I can read the body language between them.