Nicole switched off the vacuum cleaner and sighed softly to herself. Another room finished, hopefully the last one for the time being. She shuffled to the wall and unplugged the vacuum cleaner, slowly because her feet had been shackled with just enough chain to move around at a walk.

Her hands had been handcuffed as well, behind her back, with a chain long enough she could keep one hand in front of her at a time. She picked up the cord and looped it loosely around the vacuum.

Her work done, Nicole turned to face Mistress Jones, who was sitting on a recliner, a clipboard balanced on one knee. Miss Jones had put her two slaves to work before going upstairs and changing out of her "slave-mistress's" outfit into a more comfortable sweater and jeans. The bag full of bondage supplies sat by the chair, ready for use at a moment's notice.  

Nicole stood at attention, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back like a modal slave and waited for her "owner" to notice her. The older woman ignored her "slave" for a minute or two longer, writing a last sentence on the clipboard. Nicole had gathered that Miss Jones was an author of some sort, and the small farmhouse where she retreated to write.

With the last "I" dotted and every "t" crossed, Mistress Jones set down her pencil and deigned to glance over at her slave. "well, well…" she said softly, "finished at last." She glanced over at a clock up on one wall. "And perfect timing too, it's time for lunch. Tell me, can you cook, slave?"

"A little, mistress." Nicole replied. She often ended up cooking when one or both her parents were out of town on some business trip or another or just didn't feel like cooking that night, though she had simple tastes and rarely stretched her limited culinary skills further then canned soup and grilled cheese.

"Good." Mistress Jones said as she stood up. "I think you'll cook today. Slave Rachel, for all her enthusiasm, just can't cook. Come on…"

Nicole followed her mistress into the kitchen. She'd passed by it while cleaning the house, but hadn't gone in. The tile floor was ice cold under Nicole's bare feet. A screen door led out into the backyard, a draft under the door set her teeth chattering.                 

Mistress Jones unchained Nicole's hands and locked them in front of her with a regular pair of handcuffs. From her cache of bondage supplies, she produced a long coil of rope. First, the older woman divided the rope in half, and wrapped it around Nicole's waist, pulling the free ends through the loop at the end, creating a loose belt around Nicole's waist.

She wrapped the rope around Nicole's middle a second time before twisting the free end around the belt behind her back and running the rope between the teenage girl's legs, and up through the belt in front, creating a snug crotch-tie. Lastly, she took the free end and tied it to the handle of the oven.

"There," Mistress Jones said, surveying her handiwork. "Now you won't be tempted to run off when you're supposed to be cooking." Nicole tested her new restraint. It had enough slack she could move up and down the length of the counter, but if she tried to go any further, the rope between her legs would be pulled tight.

"And just so you won't be temped to snack…" Mistress Jones came up behind Nicole with a ball gag and quickly slipped it onto the girl, belting it tight.

"Hmmmppphhh!" Nicole growled into her gag with surprise.

"Now, now, don't complain or I might be tempted to leave it in." Mistress Jones admonished her slave. She rustled through the fridge and pantry for a few moments, setting a pile of ingredients in front of Nicole along with a recipe for some sort of breakfast casserole for her to cook.

"Now, you get started cooking, slave, while I go and see if slave Rachel has finished her chores yet…" Leaving Nicole to work, Mistress Jones walked over to the back door and opened it, stepping through.
A brief gust of wind blew into the kitchen, causing Nicole to shiver. She turned on the stove, letting it heat up while she cracked the eggs into a small bowl. One advantage, at least, of slaving over a hot stove for a tyrannical slave mistress was you weren't cold. Rachel had been sent out to take care of the chores outside. All of sudden, Nicole was glad she'd been given the housework to do.

After a couple of minutes, the smell of cooking food began to drive Nicole wild. She and Rachel hadn't had a chance to get breakfast and with all the excitement of their kidnapping and auction, Nicole hadn't notice how hungry she was.

Now, her stomach grumbled loudly, demanding food. Had Nicole not been gagged, she would have been sorely tempted to snack on the half finished dish. With it in, though, Nicole could do no more than chew on the rubber plug and drool hungrily.

All of a sudden, though, Nicole was distracted from her torment by what sounded like a wild cat being tossed into a lake, if said cat had been gagged. As Nicole turned to glance out the window, she realized the description was more apt then she'd thought. She looked outside just in time to see Rachel getting hosed down by Mistress Jones.

The older woman shut off the garden hose, chuckling at the sight of the drenched girl. She turned and opened the back door. "…what would Nicole think, you tracking dirt or dripping water all over the place after she's worked so hard cleaning it? I'll get some towels and dry you off. MMMH… That smells good, Nicole." She said as she stepping inside.

As Mistress Jones hurried to grab some towels, Nicole glanced back at Rachel, who stood at the window, looking inside, shivering and looking miserable. Nicole couldn't do much more than "mmmppphhh" sympathetically and try not to giggle. Rachel looked like a drown rat, hair dripping, sopping wet slave dress clinging to the teenage girl's lithe body.

Fortunately, a second later, Mistress Jones came back with a couple large towels. She wrapped one around Rachel, using another to dry off her hair. Rachel perked up quite a bit as she stepped inside, smelling Nicole's cooking. Her stomach growled loudly. Rachel was just as hungry as Nicole was.

Of course, being slaves, they didn't get to eat right away. The two ended up kneeling on either side of Mistress Jones' chair, bound hand and foot and gagged to boot, stomachs growling, drooling profusely around the corners of their gags, watching their mistress eat with rapt attention.

Their mistress, may she rot in hell, Nicole thought, was well aware of her slaves discomfort. As she ate, she smacked her gums loudly and complimented Nicole on her cooking. Worst of all, occasionally, she'd wave a fork full of casserole under their noises, enjoying the hungry moans coming from her slave's gagged mouths as they drooled and eyes the food hungrily.

Finally, when she'd had her fill, both of food and of tormenting the two girls, Mistress Jones, relented and let the slaves eat as well. She even untied them and let the two sit at the table as they wolfed down forkful after forkful of eggs and sausage and cheese.

Nicole supposed she should be grateful her mistress was letting eat at a table with silverware even, like normal people. She'd half expected her to force the two to eat their meals on all fours, like dogs or something. Maybe Mistress Jones sadistic streak had its limits…

Then again, maybe she's just warming up for something even worse. As if to answer her, when they'd eaten the last morsel, Mistress jones stood and announced, "Well, slaves, since both of you finished your chores so quickly, we've got some extra time before we need to get ready for this evening. How about a little game?