Sanctuary Pt. 01: Aubrey Ch. 03

The room was filled with clothes of every style and color so much so that the walls could not be easily seen. Two smiling figures I had never met before were beckoning me closer with warm smiles. I determined that this must be the Jack and Jill I had heard so much about. Carla, Charlene, BB, and Ella were all lounging in chairs when Jill walked up to me.

"You're first!" she chirped, walking towards me.

"First for what?" I asked carefully. I remembered her name from Harold, Jacqueline Ainsworth or Jack as she went by. Jillian or 'Jill' was her husband. It was a fun spin on their names.

"Measurements! And then Jill will get you set up." Jack said.

Jack pulled out a notepad and pencil from her pocket and retrieved the measuring tape that hung from her neck. She indicated that I was to remove the robe and give her access to my body. If anything can be said of Jack, it is that Jack is beyond thorough. She did not stop at measuring the usual locations like chest, hips, and height, but also around biceps, thighs, wrists, ankles, fingers, and toes, and around my stomach to name a few. She went so far measure the length and girth of my cock and both soft and hard. For the latter, she crouched down and looked up along my naked body with a look that I could only describe as lustful teasing, which gave her the desired result.

"Won't you get all hard for me Aubrey?" she said up to me.

And I did. Nothing... nothing had been left unmeasured. I didn't have a clue in what situation needing to know the distance from my balls to my anus would be necessary, but should the need arise I was ready. I also felt that by the end of the session, she owed me dinner.

Once her task had been completed, she had me re-dress and passed me, and my measurements off to her counterpart Jill to pick out some clothing and accessories. Jack called BB to her to be her next customer.

Jill held up a tone board to determine the tone of my complexion and the hue of my eyes. I had never seen so many calculations for anything. The procedure felt more like a test than fitting, and I wasn't sure I would pass. What if I was not on par with the clothing? Would they send me off with a potato sack to wear?

Jill sat me down and asked a lot of questions about styles and comfort preferences. When it became apparent that I knew little beyond jeans and tennis shoes, he smiled and patted my leg saying that he would take care of me. During the entire conversation, he never stopped writing down notes onto his pad. I felt terrible not being more helpful. However, he seemed to enjoy having an open palette to work with.

Jill walked me around the room and had me point out things I liked and things I didn't. To be honest, there was not too much there I didn't like. All the while Jill made notes.

When the consultation was complete Jill gestured to a door mostly hidden behind a wall of clothes. He informed me that he had been instructed to have me exit through the doors, down the north wing to the gallery. I nodded and thanked him. As he extended his hand to me, I naturally tried to shake it, but he turned my hand over and gave it a kiss. The gesture made my tummy fill with butterflies. With a smile, he excused himself and walked over to the arriving BB.BB nearly tackled Jill with her hug. With a grin, I slipped quietly into the hallway.

***

Harold was waiting for me in the gallery with a smile. "Welcome to trial by mirror!" he said in cheerful faux mysteriousness.

I smirked at him. Sometimes he could be a goober, but he was such a good goober. I looked around. The room was long with enormous arched windows that framed mountains as far as the eye could see. The opposite wall was hung with many paintings, none of which I had seen before. A few small benches and chairs were set about for comfortably viewing the artwork.

In the middle of the room stood a large square ottoman covered in deep rich crimson velvet and trimmed with gold. It was short, and roughly a three by three square. Across from it a large antique looking full sized dressing mirror stood regally.

"This cheval glass will be your challenge and bare witness to your transformation and your experiment in submission and bondage." He said walking over to the mirror.

"Cheval glass... are you being fancy to try to impress me, Mr. Lockwood?" I asked.

"Absolutely, is it working?"

"Yes. Yes, it is." I said

Harold smiled. "That is the challenge, to endure this evil enchanted mirror and reflect on yourself, on what you want and have some personal time. If you pass, I will have a big surprise for you."

"No whips and chains? Kind of a letdown." I teased. In reality, I was very much relieved, and it must have shown on my face.

I sat down on the ottoman. Harold walked across the room and looked down at me, his hand laying gently on my head.

"I am not a sadist. I am a Daddy Dominant, meaning I get more pleasure in tending to needs in others than inflicting pain."

I looked up at him. "I don't know if I see you as a fatherly figure. I mean no offense. I don't think I would be into frilly lace and diapers either. I'm sorry."

Harold laughed so hard he wiped tears away. "No. Nothing like that, I just mean that I am a nurturing dominant, There are many shades in that category. I would never ask you to do anything you were not interested in. Okay?"

"Okay," I said and wrapped my soft robe around myself.

"Now, if you are prepared to start, all you must do is sit here comfortably and look into the mirror. That is all. You will have some time to think, and I and others will be in and out to make sure you have no need of anything."

Harold patted my hair and quietly walked out of the room, leaving me there sitting crossed legged on the ottoman with my glass doppelganger. I looked around. There were no clocks to be found or to look at, only my reflection.

"What did I get myself into?" I asked my reflection wordlessly.

I gazed at myself and examined my face. Even in a strange situation like this, a smile crept at the edges of my mouth. I acknowledged to myself that I had smiled more in two days that I could remember ever have smiled before. I could not see in the mirror what prompted such generosity in Harold. I seemed plain to myself. Was this what the mirror was genuinely telling me? The longer I looked at myself, the less I liked the reflection. I was in a big fancy house, and I was still the same old Aubrey.

It seemed like hours passed, but I had no way of knowing. A door opened, and a small group of people entered. Some were toting what looked like tackle boxes. Others were rolling in a fancy looking chair and some sort of pillar. Before I knew it, they had set up what appeared to be a makeshift salon there in the gallery. BB arrived and joined the group of women.

"Come on over here baby," BB said with a big smile and dramatic wave of her arm. "We gonna get you all dolled up... oops we ain't supposed to be talkin'. Don't tell Harold." she held a finger to her lips smiling.

I got up and went over to sit in the salon chair. The women swarmed around me. One began to wash my hair with the pillar basin, others worked on my finger and toenails, shaping and painting them. Once cleaned, my hair was dried and styled while another applied foreign products to my face. Sure I had used makeup before, but usually only to camouflage a zit or hide the bags under my eyes. This seemed a lot more.

The woman applied one layer and then another and another. Sometimes she applied the product with a brush or a little spongy pad. Other times she would use the tips of her fingers to apply the makeup. She didn't just work my cheeks but also spent time around my eyes. I was terrified when she used the mascara on me, but I was bound and determined to be a brave little trooper. The last piece of her art was my lips, which she applied with a small brush. My hair was the last thing tamed, I had felt it being twisted and pinned in place while worrying about losing an eye to the mascara brush.

When they all stood back and nodded, BB escorted me back to the ottoman and had me sit on my knees. I noticed that she had covered the mirror with a sheet while I had been under the brushes and just stood there as the women packed up their things and left just as quietly as they arrived.

When BB and I were alone again in the quiet room, she placed a finger to her lips once more for me to stay silent. She gestured for my robe. I hesitated a moment, but fair was fair. I agreed to this. It's not like half of the house has not seen me at least partially nude. I felt my cheeks warm and wondered if I was blushing through the makeup. She looked me over and smiled warmly with an approving nod before pulling off the sheet and tucking it, and the robe under her arm. Without another word, she exited the room.

I looked from the door to the mirror and gasped. The makeup used was so subtle that it didn't seem unnatural. My hair had been pulled into a cute updo, and my nails no longer looked like the nails of a dishwasher. I looked and felt prettier. I loved the look. I really did. I noticed I rose up a little higher on my knees and kept my back a little straighter. What magic makeup could perform.

I began to imagine what Harold's expression would be to walk in on me like this. I ran through all the scenarios in my mind, and they left me with butterflies in my stomach. I felt a twitch between my legs and looked down to find my cock hard between my legs. I bit my lip and glanced again at the mirror. The mirror hid nothing.

The door opened, and I jumped. And of course, it would be Harold who entered. Harold walked down the hall with something in his arms, covered in a white sheet. He stopped and smiled at me brightly. Harold kept his eyes on mine instead of my cock which in my moment of panic might as well have been waving hello to him. He seemed to not pay it any attention. For this Harold earned a gold star and a lot of brownie points.

"You look so beautiful," he said."I always thought you were beautiful, but now I hope that you can see what I always saw."

I felt my eyes grow wide and heat return to my cheeks. Harold gestured to the floor beside the ottoman.

"If you would be so kind as to hop up a minute or two," he said.

I scooted off the ottoman and paused for a moment unsure if I should stand or kneel. Since this was a challenge, I wagered on the latter and sank slowly to my knees on the polished mahogany tiled floor. I took the opportunity to fold my hands neatly on my lap. I figured if there were a demure way of hiding an erection, that would have been it.

Harold smiled at me warmly and sat the item he carried on the ottoman. From under its cover, he fished out several straps that he ran along the underside of the piece of furniture and fastened securely at the opposite side with buckles.

He removed the cover and revealed its secrets. It appeared to be a solid base with a cushion. A thick, sturdy steel pipe was mounted in the center of its structure and run through the padding and perhaps bolted to the bottom. Clipped to welded rings, a series of cuffs dangled open. Harold patted the cushion.

"Come here, sweetheart. It is quite sturdy," he said giving the small restraining platform a push to prove it wouldn't move.

With wide eyes I carefully climbed back on the ottoman, kneeling. Harold had me slowly crawl backward against it until my bottom touched the cold steel of the pipe. I knelt again, back straight. He ran his hands along my arms and down to my wrist where the first cuff hung attached. My wrist was placed in the leather restraint and buckled snugly. I gave it a few test pulls at His request and found it adequately restrained. My other wrist followed.

The cuffs meant for my ankles were set back behind me and bolted down. As my ankles too were enclosed in the leather cuffs, I found them to be even less yielding. Since they pulled my ankles behind me and the pole at my back prevented me from backing up, I found it impossible for me to draw my knees up and together. Finally, he reached up and began to enclose a final leather strap around my throat. This strap too was attached to the pole and thick preventing me from looking down or shifting.

Harold checked all the restraints twice to make sure none of the straps were too tight or pinching. Satisfied he moved to my side and let me see my reflection in the mirror. I felt my cheeks grow hot yet again as I stared at myself. It might have been vanity, but I thought I looked pretty and presentable bound like this. My cock had reawoken and stood stiffly out with no way of me hiding it.

"It is all about the accessories sweetheart," he said pulling a bright red ball gag from his pocket. He held it up to my mouth and looked so deeply into my eyes. I felt he was staring into my soul. "Will you accept this?" he asked.

I acted before I even thought and opened my mouth to him. He placed the ball into my mouth having to wiggle it slightly to bypass my teeth. I felt the buckles tighten behind my head securing the gag firmly.

I looked again into the mirror as Harold stroked my hair. My body seemed to lean into the touch. My still hard cock displayed itself between my thighs, and I realized that I wanted Harold to touch it, to stroke it. I wanted to feel his hands pressed against me and roam his fingers across my body. The thought thrilled and frightened me in almost the same proportions. Was it just lust or was I falling for him?

"Take one more look in the mirror," he said producing a wool padded leather blindfold.

I obeyed, staring at myself in the mirror, trying to memorize the sight in my mind as the blindfold slid over my eyes casting me in darkness.

A hand brushed my cheek, and I caught myself purring softly against his touch.

"I must take a call and will be in my office down through the doors at the end. Ella will be in shortly to watch over you and then the others. You will never be alone." I heard him say.

A moment later I could hear footsteps and Harold greeting Ella. With one last stroke of my hair, he left me with the words. "Be a brave girl."

Over time my body relaxed, and I gave myself into the restraints. A couple of times I heard new footsteps approach while others retreated. In my mind's eye, I envisioned a scenario similar to the royal changing of the guards.

No one spoke or touched me, to break my thoughts for some time. I felt myself slowly sinking into a strange calm place. I felt oddly peaceful but still wished for Harold's touch once more. Maybe that was the real challenge. I tried not to dwell on him, but his smile and blue eyes invaded all of my thoughts. I felt myself stirring and grow hard once again between my legs.

I felt a hand, warm and soft touch me. It cupped my balls, gathering them up against my cock. I felt something thin wrap around the backside of my sack and around the top of my cock and tighten. I could hear the zipping sound of tiny plastic teeth take purchase. At first, it was snug, and then tight and then painful. I tried to endure through it but it hurt too much, and I pulled and struggled against the restraint, grunting behind the gag.

The touch appeared again, pulling on the strangling object. Each pull rendered a cry of pain from me. I felt it being twisted and yanked. Hot pain flashed through me, and I released a muffled scream.

There was no other sound. No other contact. Only bright sparks of pain in my world of darkness. I remembered that Harold would be down the hall if not nearby. I cried out to him for help, begging him to come, but was met with only silence.

***

I heard footsteps approach. I cried out through the gag and tugged at the buckled cuffs.

I heard Charlene's words cut through the darkness of the blindfold. "Ah is it all that bad..."

Charlene's words dropped into a curse hissed under her breath.

"Carla, please bring your bag to the gallery immediately," Charlene said assumingly into her phone. Her voice came through as strained. There was a moment of silence and then Charlene's frantic voice. "Sam! Get Harold and come to the gallery right now. Please get here right now!"

I felt the buckle around my throat loosen and moved followed by the straps which restrained my right wrist. My hand immediately shot down to my lap and the gnawing sense of pain. My fingers brushed something tight, biting into me at the slightest movement. I tried to pry it away, but it wouldn't budge. Pain exploded through me. A second later my hand was wrestled back into the leather cuff, rendering it immobile. My finger's felt sticky.

"No! No sweetheart don't!", Charlene said firmly, her voice wavering. "I'm sorry, baby. I can't let you go just yet... please, it's important that you stay calm."

I couldn't. I couldn't calm down. I could not stop the screaming behind the ball gag. Still blindfolded I couldn't see what was wrong, but from her tone, I knew it must be something terrible.

"Shh shh shh," she said softly, stroking my hair and trying to console me. I heard heel clicking hard and fast towards me. The sound of a bag hitting the floor made me jump.

"What happened?", Clara Asked.

"I don't know. I came to trade off with Teddy," said Charlene.

"Where is Teddy?"

"He wasn't here when I arrived here just now. Sam and Harrold are on their way."

As if on cue, heavy footsteps thundered through the gallery towards us.

"What has happened? What is that?" said Harold, his voice icy.

"It is a zip tie," said Carla. "It's too tight and has lacerated the skin severely. Aubry needs to go to the hospital for this. I don't dare remove it in the event a blood clot has formed. We can drive him to the hospital ourselves as the ambulance technicians are not going to remove this outside of the hospital either."

"Who did this?", asked Harold flatly.

"I suspect it was Teddy," said Charlene. "He was not here when I came to trade places with him."

"Go find him and detain him until I return," Harold said.

"Yes Sir," Samuel said. "Can we legally detain him?"

"This estate is officially designated as an embassy now. Teddy will either stay put or will be considered persona non grata."

"Yes, sir," Samuel said again. Heavy footsteps ran out of the room.

"Charlene," Harold said. "Please go get me a sheet to wrap Aubrey up in."

"Yes, sir," Charlene said, as I felt her pull away.

I could not see but felt Clara before me. She very gently examined me, but even this hurt and I could feel the blindfold become soggy with my tears. I was panicking and on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Is it bad?" asked Howard.

"It's not good," said Clara flatly.

Minutes passed, minutes that seemed like an eternity before the footfalls of Charlene reentered the gallery.

"I have the sheet."

I felt the sheet get draped around me before fingers reached for my blindfold. I blinked away the sudden brightness and met with Howard's eyes. His blue eyes seemed like a stormy ocean, wrought with controlled fury. I just stared into his eyes with fear and confusion and said nothing when the gag was unfastened and removed from my mouth. With deft fingers, he released each of the cuffs but swaddled me in the blanket before I could see the damage.

Whatever anger filled him was tightly contained as he lifted me up in his arms with the utmost gentleness. I was carried out the front door where Charlene was already behind the wheel, waiting with the doors open. Harold slid in and held me close to him tightly, practically on curled up on his lap. Carla and Ella filled out the rest of the back seat. BB took the front passenger position. Harold made a half effort to say something, maybe about all the passengers but stopped himself. Perhaps he knew it would have been a losing battle before he even began.

Charlene's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and she seemed to be purposefully not looking at us from the rear view mirror. From the conversation I overheard, I figured that Samuel was detaining Teddy which why Charlene was driving. I was surprised that BB and Ella were there, however.