Mistaken Identity Ch. 02

This is chapter two of Mistaken Identity. It really is quite important to the understanding of this story that you have read chapter one first. Now, on with the action...

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Sue rolled over, as far as she could in the tight confines of the cage. A pale glow came from the windows where dawn was slowly rising. Actually what Sue was seeing were the carefully orchestrated lighting effects that resulted from Ruth running the controlling computer through the 'dawn' program. Netted curtains and back projection worked together to reinforce the illusion that this was a real suite of rooms and not just an elaborate set.

Sue had actually slept quite well. Apart from a need to pee and growing thirst for coffee, she was feeling pretty good. From the bed there came a susurration as the Countess and Trixie snored gently. Quietly Sue tested the bars of the cage, looking for weaknesses, but they were solidly fixed and more than proof against her efforts. The feeding hatch looked like it might be a point of weakness but, when she checked, it was securely locked. However, she didn't give up, but managed to roll over far enough to try the hatch in the roof of the cage as well. That too was shut fast. She wasn't surprised; right from the start her captors had shown a ruthless professionalism and had never once shown any weakness.

She fought back the wave of depression, which threatened to overcome her. Ruthless professionalism or not, Sue Brown was no fool and, when the time was right, she would make her move. As the cage clearly showed, it would be foolish to think that opportunities to escape would come easily or often. She would have to bide her time and wait until the moment was right. This being the case, for now she needed to develop a coping strategy. At the core of this would be her relationship with the Countess and, in the end, it would all be about trust. An untrusting Countess would be extra vigilant and opportunities would therefore be scarcer. In order to get the Countess to drop her guard, she would have to appear to be embracing this new lifestyle, to be actually revelling in these humiliations and degradations. After all, Trixie, who appeared to be just as much of a slave as she was, seemed to enjoy a certain amount of freedom.

And there were other motivators in play as well. The Countess's threat that failure to please would result in her being sold to another owner was another reason to fall into line. Much as she didn't relish the thought of becoming the Countess's sexual plaything, it would seem to be the best choice she had had so far. She certainly didn't relish being some sort of human pony in Herr Otto's racing stables, and acting as some kind or whore for Walter's farm hands was equally unappealing. These were just the options she had heard of; who knows what else other 'owners' would have her be or do. In a world where human beings were sold for cash, where she had become a commodity rather than as person, there could be few limits. For the moment at least it was a case of 'better the devil you know'; after all, hadn't Trixie described the Countess as a 'good' owner?

Sue's need to pee was getting worse; she wished that Trixie hadn't forced her to drink so deeply last night as now she was paying the price. To alleviate the cramps she clamped her hands between her thighs. She wondered how long she would have to hold out; the thought of failing to do so was appalling. Not only was she averse to lying in a pool of her own urine, she didn't want to face the Countess's wrath if she were to 'spoil her bedding'. As she fought back the urge to pee her wrist pushed against her and it was odd to feel the shaven skin of her mons. She had often wondered what it would be like to have a 'full Brazilian'. Now she knew. And, truth be told, this was one of many features of her new life, which played straight into her Rudolf Valentino fantasies. To be sure, they had never featured a woman as her captor and, in her dreams, she would have been the one sleeping in the bed, not Trixie, but the loss of freedom, the 'used and then thrown away' aspects, even, whisper it quietly, the cage, were striking chords within her.

She heard rustling sounds coming from the bed. the Countess and Trixie were waking up. There was a quiet muttering and then Trixie got out of bed and headed for the en-suite. Apparently Sue wasn't the only one who needed to pee. When Trixie returned she went past the cage and, as she did so, she glanced down and saw Sue, and, more pertinently, saw the way she had her hands between her thighs. Sue, mindful of the rule of silence, mimed her urgency.

"Excuse me, Countess," Trixie called out, "I believe Rosalita also needs the bathroom."

"Well, she'll have to wait. I don't want to have anything to do with her until after breakfast," the Countess replied.

"I'm not sure she can," Trixie said and Sue nodded to reinforce this.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" the Countess called out in exasperation. "Just leave her.... No, on second thoughts she'll only wet herself and make the room unpleasant. Give her a diaper, you know what to do."

Sue was a bit confused by the word 'diaper'. Wasn't that the American word for... and then she saw Trixie getting a square of white towelling from a chest of drawers and her suspicions were confirmed. Diaper was, indeed, the American word for nappy. Trixie laid the nappy out on the top of the chest of drawers and folded it, exactly as if it were for a baby. However, before she fitted it, she went to a drawer under the bed and fetched out two pieces of wood. She then unfastened and removed the feeding hatch part of the cage and, for a moment, there was a gap big enough for Sue to crawl through. However, almost immediately, half the gap was filled with one of the pieces of wood, which, as Sue could now clearly see, had three semicircular dips along the top. Her heart sank as Trixie gestured that she should place her neck in the central dip and her hands in the other two. Remembering her resolve not to fight until the time was right, Sue complied and, as she did so, she felt the other piece of wood being fitted so she was trapped as if in the stocks.

The holes for the wrists were quite generous and Sue would have had no trouble removing her hands but Trixie fetched from the drawer under the bed a set of thick rubber wrist cuffs with a chain linking them together and, once these were fitted, Sue's hands were trapped.

With Sue now fixed to her satisfaction Trixie picked up the nappy, went to the other end of the cage, opened the door, reached in and, after a certain amount of fumbling, fitted the towelling around Sue. It was a tight and awkward manoeuvre in the narrow confines of the cage but it wasn't long before Sue's nether regions were swaddled in the soft towelling with two oversized safety pins holding the whole thing fast. The bulky material was bunched up between her legs which forced her to kneel with her knees apart and the position of the stocks mean that she had to kneel up. With the towelling fitted Trixie went back to the chest of drawers and this time returned with a pair of plastic panties which, except for the size, were exactly as would be fitted on a baby. These were even more awkward to fit but it wasn't long before they were in place and Trixie could withdraw. Sue could just imagine how ridiculous she must look, how degrading, how demeaning, she must appear. She felt like some sort of veal calf, confined and unable to move. That on its own was bad enough but when you added in the nappy, her humiliation was complete.

And then, of course, there was the vexed question as to whether she was going to allow herself to pee or not. The stubborn streak within her resisted, not to mention her reluctance to spend any more time than strictly necessary wearing a damp nappy. On the other hand, she really needed to go and holding it back was agony. For the moment the stubborn streak was winning but the clock was ticking and she wasn't sure how long she could hold out. In the meanwhile, she wished she could cross her legs or, at least, clamp them together but the nappy prevented this.

With Sue now secured, the Countess ordered Trixie to go and fetch breakfast. Sue watched as Trixie headed for the door and wondered whether this breakfast might include the coffee she so craved. However, she wasn't getting her hopes up.

Once out of the suite Angela put on the dressing gown, which hung on a hook just outside the door and headed for the staffroom where she found Gill already busy putting breakfast together in the kitchen area. Ruth, over in one corner, with the inevitable coffee cup on the desk in front of her, was keeping an watch on the CCTV and making sure all the systems ran smoothly.

"That was some show you and Fiona put on for the client last night," Gill joked as she warmed up the croissants.

"Gotta keep it looking real," Angela joked back. "Talking of which, I've never seen a client so deep into role. Usually there's some sign that they know that it's all an act but this one...."

"Yeah, I had that when I was getting her ready for auction," Gill added. "Either she's really letting herself believe or she's the best actress ever."

"Well, she's certainly getting what she signed up for. We're not doing anything to her that isn't on the script. Even so, you should have seen her face when I put her in the stocks. She didn't seem very happy even if she is getting off on it."

"And is she?"

"Well, she seems to be. I mean, she's not making that much fuss and you saw how easily she came when she was on the auction post. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about there; she was hot and ready to trot long before I got to her. And then, last night, OK, so she wasn't allowed to come but talk about sensuous. If she wasn't getting off on going down on me then you could have fooled me; she was definitely giving it her all."

"So we saw," Gill laughed.

And, with that, the microwave pinged and the croissants were ready. Gill took them out and put them on the trolley along with a large pot of hot coffee, a selection of fresh fruit, some Greek yoghurt and all the trimmings. However, these were prepared for the Countess and Trixie; for Sue there was simply a dog's bowl and a jug of water.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Angela quipped and, with a swing to her hips, she made her way back to the suite.

As Angela, once more divested of her dressing gown and back in role as Trixie, pushed the trolley into the suite, the smell of fresh Kenyan peaberry AA wafted from the coffee pot. From Sue's perspective, this was almost the worst torture yet. Trixie left the trolley in the centre of the room, poured out a generous cup of coffee and took it over to the Countess who complained haughtily that there should have been Venezuelan coffee available. Sue heard them discussing the breakfast options and the Countess decided on some fresh grapefruit and a couple of croissants. Trixie went back to the trolley to get this together and then laid it all out on a tray and took it over to the bed.

Then she went over to the end of the cage where Sue's head and hands were protruding. She fetched from the drawer under the bed another piece of wood and this slotted into the 'stocks' so as to form a shelf just under Sue's chin. With this in place Trixie fetched from the trolley the dog's bowl and water jug. As she returned Sue looked up at her and mouthed the word 'coffee' but Trixie just smiled and shook her head. She placed the bowl on the shelf so that Sue, by leaning her head forward, could dip her mouth in it. Then she took the water jug and filled the bowl to the rim.

"Make sure you drink it all up," she said. "The Countess gets most cross if slaves don't eat or drink what is provided for them."

And, with that, Trixie went back to the other side of the bed and Sue could no longer see her.

Sue's resolve to play at being a well-behaved 'slave' was being pushed to the limit. She wanted out of these damn stocks, she wanted a cup of morning coffee and, above all else, she wanted to pee. She hated the nappy, hated the whole idea of it but, well, it had been fitted for a purpose and she was close to the point where she would have no choice in the matter. With an internal sigh she decided she couldn't hold back any longer and, once she started she couldn't stop. The sense of relief flowed through her just as the warm damp sensation flowed around her groin. The towelling could only absorb so much and, by the time the flow slowed to a trickle, the nappy was sodden between her legs and she could feel a certain amount oozing down the inside of her thighs. Quite frankly she didn't care. Her dignity had long been taken from her; she had no pride left and she just did what she had to do. She leant her head forward and drank from the bowl. It might not have been coffee but it tasted delicious.

And then it was back to waiting. It would appear that the Countess and Trixie were in no hurry to finish their breakfast. Sue, mindful of Trixie's warning that the Countess would be cross if she didn't drink what was given to her, strained her head forward to sip at the water but it was difficult to reach far enough and the bowl was still more than half full.

At last the Countess got out of bed. Aided by Trixie she put on a floor length satin gown that matched her slip and then came over to stand by the cage.

"Trixie, I wish to play with my new toy," she said. "Get her out of the cage."

Trixie came over and unfastened a few bolts but, this time, instead of opening the door at the end of the cage, the whole roof was hinged up. Then it was a simple affair to remove the top half of the stocks and Sue, with her wrists still chained together, was helped to her feet. The door at the end of the cage was opened and Sue, waddling somewhat in her sodden nappy, was led round to stand in front of the Countess.

"Well...." the Countess said in expectation.

For a moment Sue just stood there, uncertain as to what was required of her. The Countess just stood there watching, her face impassive. Sue felt the panic rising within her. She had to do something; what? She remembered the Countess's order that she should be happy and agreeable. Whatever her true feelings she had to appear willing.

"Good morning, Countess," she said, giving a curtsey and hoping she was doing what was required. "How may I brighten your day for you?"

"Oh, we are going to have fun today!" the Countess exclaimed, her face breaking into a smile. "You have so much to learn but we will have so much fun teaching you. Now, first things first; have you been a naughty little Rosalita and wet your nappy?"

"Yes, Countess, I'm sorry, Countess."

"Oh, dear, not a good start to the day. Trixie, sweetie, I think you had best take this one off for a shower. Get her cleaned up and ready."

Trixie led Sue to the en-suite and over to the shower area. She pulled a cord next to the light switch and a hook attached to a chain snaked down out of the ceiling next to the showerhead. She took Sue's wrists and arranged then so that the chain between them was over the hook. Then it was back to a second cord, this time pulling the chain up until Sue was at full stretch. As the rubber cuffs took some of her weight they gripped her wrists tight but weren't too uncomfortable.

Then Trixie removed the plastic panties, the nappy and the belt that Sue still wore and took them all to a laundry chute where they disappeared out of sight. Sue wasn't sorry to see the back of the belt but she wasn't expecting to have her wrists freed any time soon.

Then Trixie turned on the shower and, after a mercifully brief spell of cold water, it ran pleasantly hot. Taking the hair shampoo from the shelf next to the shower she set to work on Sue's hair.

This was the second shower Sue had had since she had been captured and, apart from both being restrained, they could not have been more different. Whereas the auctioneer had been cold, professional, businesslike, Trixie was anything but. The biggest difference was that the auctioneer had been clothed whereas Trixie was naked and, as such, had no problems with getting wet. To shampoo Sue's hair she had to get in close and this illustrated the second difference. The auctioneer had been cold, professional, Trixie, in contrast, was another slave and, as such, required to be 'passionate' for the Countess. As their two naked bodies met under the cascading water, she let the suds slide down between them so that skin could slide against skin and this was as erotic as any shower Sue had shared with any of her boyfriends. Once Trixie had finished with Sue's hair she swapped the shampoo for shower gel and, this time, there was no mistaking her intentions. At first she used her hands to spread liberal amounts of gel all over and then, she used her body, rubbing against Sue in the most sensuous of fashion. Sue glanced over to where the Countess was sat on the edge of the bath, watching intently. Evidently she was enjoying watching her 'slaves' showering together. It seemed to Sue that, as part of playing the willing slave, she should reciprocate and, as Trixie rubbed against her, so she rubbed back, well, as far as her bound wrists would allow her.

And, truth be told, it wasn't all show. Trixie was no amateur and Sue would have had to have been made of stone not to respond. Sue's previous shower partners could have learnt a lot from Trixie and the way she used not just her hands but her whole body to smooth the shower gel over them both. Trixie pushed her groin against Sue's hip so Sue reciprocated by pushing her foot forwards and giving Trixie her thigh to straddle. Trixie upped the tempo and hugged Sue close, using her for support as she slid their bodies against each other and it seemed almost inevitable that they should kiss. As Trixie's tongue plundered Sue's mouth there was an intensity about her passion that was catching and Sue kissed back, just as hard.

Trixie broke from the kiss and Sue, at first, could hardly believe it but, when she realised it was just to reach for more shower gel, just to renew the soapiness between them, she was glad they were going to continue. Now Trixie was holding nothing back, she was like some wild animal desperately rubbing their bodies together, searching out ever higher pleasures. Sue wished that her hands were free, wished that she could respond more; she pushed her foot out farther, as far as it would go, and Trixie rode her thigh for all she was worth, letting her whole weight bear down, pressing herself against Sue's thigh.

"Oh, bravo, little Trixie!" the Countess called out. "What passion, what fervour! How pretty you look, how I wish you were mine! Come for me! Come for me now!"

And come she did. Hanging on to Sue as if her life depended on it she ground her groin into Sue's thigh and, with little animal cries, buried her head in Sue's shoulder. The intensity of it all was pulling on Sue's arms and making the cuffs cut into her wrists but she was so caught up in Trixie's orgasm that she hardly noticed. Finally, with a massive groan, which seemed to come from the very depths of her, Trixie climaxed and, without Sue's support, would have fallen to the floor. For a long, long moment the only sound was the splashing of the shower until, with a little shudder, Trixie relaxed her hug, stood up again and kissed Sue long and hard.

"Oh, bravo again!" the Countess clapped her hands in glee. "Do you see, little Rosalita, do you see how pretty Trixie looks when she comes? When it is your turn to perform do you think you will look as pretty? Will your climax be as pleasing to me?"

Sue wasn't sure whether this question was rhetorical or not but, as she hadn't got a clue how to respond, she left it unanswered. Meanwhile Trixie had finished kissing her and, almost languorously, was finishing off the washing process. This done she reached for the shower controls and turned off the flow.