“3-2-1, GO!"

At the signal, Bethany leaped off the porch around the cabin and sprinted into the surrounding forest at top speed. The game was on! She knew she had only two minutes to get far enough away to ensure that the hunting pack would not immediately find her. Her heart was pounding with excitement rather than fear, the adrenaline was pumping pretty hard, and she had to keep herself under control, the absolute worst thing she could do now would be to fall or twist an ankle.

Precisely two minutes later, she was standing with her back to a substantial tree trunk, trying to recover from the vigorous exercise her run had just provided. It was a warm summer's evening, and a thin sheen of sweat had already started to form on her brow and over her naked body. The air she was sucking into her burning lungs made a tuneful whistling noise as it went through the holes of the whiffle ball strapped into her mouth. It stretched her plump lips wide apart, allowing a thin stream of saliva to drool down her chin. The rising and falling of her chest made the ropes around her breasts and pinning her arms behind her tighten, reminding her, as if she needed it, of just how restricted her movements were. When she regained control of her breathing, she peeked around the tree, peering through the darkness and straining to hear any sound of pursuit.

How had it ever come to this, she wondered. It had all started out so innocently, a group of girls at college getting together for fun and games on a Friday evening when they couldn't afford to go out. Best friends Melanie, Sandra, Penelope, Tiffany and Beth would have a few drinks and play kiss-and-tell, truth-or-dare, maybe a little strip poker, all fairly innocent fun. It carried on after they left college and, as they paired off, their partners gradually joined in the games too. Bethany's husband Mark, Mel's boyfriend Steve, Sandra's David and Penelope’s Alan all became part of the regular Friday night gang. It took Tiffany a little longer to find someone suitable for the group, but one night she turned up with Georgie, a very pleasant girl, and finally came out to them as gay, even though they’d known for years.

Bethany wasn't sure when ‘naughty’ had become part of the games, or who had first suggested it. They had never explored the joys of partner-swapping, they were pretty happy with the partners they had chosen and knew that sleeping around, especially within the group, could cause serious problems, so they all agreed that sex was off the agenda. However, flirting was always great fun, and they would often hang out with each other in just underwear or even naked, hoping to turn each other on so that when they went off with their respective partners, the lovemaking would be that much more exciting.

The fun started with games involving forfeits. For example, take a game as simple and boring as Monopoly. Rent would be paid, once the money ran out, with clothes, kisses or other oral relief. Going to jail resulted in the player wearing handcuffs, and anyone visiting jail at that time was allowed to take advantage of any prisoner they fancied, in any way they liked. Picking up a Chance or Community Chest card generally resulted in some kind of forfeit, as decided by the person to your right. They might say "you have won second prize in a beauty contest, but I was first, so you have to suck my tits" or "bank error in your favour, collect one pair of panties from every player".

And so over the years it had progressed to the point where, each year, the friends went away for a week and played The Game. Every evening after dinner, they would draw lots, and the one who chose the short straw was ‘it’. This evening, Bethany was it. It started by her having to do a striptease in front of the others, with much whooping and hollering of encouragement. Once she was naked, the others would take it in turns to ‘prepare’ her for the game.

Mel came up first and tied her wrists together tightly behind her back. David was next, binding her elbows just close enough together so that it forced her to push out her ample chest provocatively, but was relatively comfortable over however long this was going to take.

Tiffany applied the gag, making sure that it was good and tight, but that Bethany would have no problems breathing. Alan applied a rather complex harness around her breasts, tight enough to make them bulge and discolour a little but, again, not so tight as to be uncomfortable or dangerous.

Penelope lubed up and inserted the butt plug she had chosen, while Mark approached his wife with a broad smile and a length of rope.

“Good luck, honey, you know I’ll be rooting for you,” he smirked as he tied a rope tight around her waist. Making her spread her feet, he passed the tail of the rope between her legs, looped it under itself at the rear, then back between her thighs. After careful adjustment to ensure the rope delved deep between her pussy lips and passed either side of her clit, he pulled it tight and tied it off, eliciting a loud groan as the butt plug was forced deeper and the hemp rasped across her tender flesh.

“Now Sandy and Georgie have a couple of surprise presents for you.” Smiling broadly, the two women approached Bethany and raised their hands to show their contributions to her bondage.

Her eyes widened in dismay when she saw that each was holding up a cat bell, tinkling them to illustrate what a pleasant, and surprisingly loud, noise they made. This also revealed that the bells were attached to clamps, and they each took one of Bethany's breasts in their hands and applied their clamp over the nipple. Bethany was relieved to discover that the clamps were not too extreme, but it was obvious there was no way she was going to shake them off - she was stuck with bells until she was freed, or somebody took them off for her.

She was also fitted with two items of safety equipment. One was a pair of trainers to protect her feet from sharp stones and thorns which she might step on, while the other was a pair of safety goggles.

"Looks like you're all set, honey," Mark said, giving her a slap on the behind.

“You guys go that way, we'll go down here," Bethany heard in the distance. She knew she had to find a better hiding place, and she sprinted down the track to the left, desperately looking around. She had only her speed and her wits to help her escape pursuit, while those hunting her had flashlights, walkie-talkies and paintball guns, while David and Alan had bought themselves night vision goggles, which definitely seemed to her like cheating!

She saw a large, dense bush to the side of the path and, pushing herself through the foliage, crouched down on the ground, hoping that she would now be out of sight. To win the game, she either had to make it back to the cabin without being shot with a paintball, or had to remain undiscovered until sunrise. No-one had managed to succeed with that second method yet - Sandra had tried one time, but had given herself up at 4 AM, just too cold and miserable to carry on.

So, Bethany knew that she had to get through the line of seekers and return to the warmth and safety of the cabin if she wanted to win. And the game was worth winning - if she did, she would be Queen for the day, all the others would have to obey her every command, it would be great! But if she lost… no, she wasn't going to lose, it didn't bear thinking about!

She managed to get control of her breathing again and listened intently for any sound. After what seemed like an age, she heard voices approaching.

"No sign of her so far," she heard, recognising Penelope’s voice, "we’re heading down to the lake." The sound of feet passing uncomfortably close to her hiding place made Bethany hold her breath, but they gradually receded and she relaxed a little.

Her heart was pounding, and she wondered why she was quite so excited. She and Mark didn't play bondage games very much at home, it wasn't their thing, but for some reason she always enjoyed the games they played when they came away with the gang. Maybe it was a competitive angle, maybe it was the idea of being hunted, she'd never really analysed it, but there was definitely something…

She stayed where she was for what felt like hours, until she was sure there was no-one anywhere near her, before she finally crept out from under the bush and cautiously began to retrace her steps. Gradually, her confidence began to grow as she was sure that everyone had dispersed widely, leaving her with a clear path back to the cabin, to salvation, to victory!

She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks as she heard a strange noise to her right. A woman's voice, but not speaking, she was… moaning? Had somebody been hurt? No, she thought, it's not that kind of moaning… cautiously, she inched towards the noise, trying to stay behind trees and bushes to keep concealed. She was getting closer, and then…

She was astonished by the sight that greeted her. There, in a clearing, she could clearly see Melanie, and it was clear that it was she who was making the sounds, and it was also clear that she was straddling her boyfriend Steve, who was lying on the ground underneath her. They were having sex!

After watching the couple going at it for several minutes, Bethany finally snapped out of her fascinated voyeurism and realised that this was her chance. She sneaked away, although she suspected that a marching band could have passed by and they wouldn't notice, and resumed her progress at speed, knowing that she was nearly there.

And then she could see her goal! The cabin stood before her, deserted, just across the open ground, less than twenty yards…

"Hey there, beautiful, where d’you think you’re going?" She turned and saw Mark standing at the edge of the clearing too, and her heart sank. She looked at him pleadingly and whined through the gag as if to say ‘husband, darling, love of my life, give me a break here!’

"Sorry, honey, I can't let you get away. Rules is rules." Bethany's eyes widened in alarm as she saw the barrel of his gun lower and his finger pull on the trigger. She let out a squeal and just had time to turn away before the ball of paint splattered against her buttock. Seeing her head drop in defeat, Mark sauntered over to her and, taking her arm, led her across to the cabin and up onto the porch. He reached for the air horn and a loud blast signalled to the others that the game was over.

By the time they had all returned, Melanie and Steve unsurprisingly being the last to appear, Bethany had been freed from her bondage, but was now wearing leather collar and cuffs as she knelt on the decking, her head bowed in submission. Her forfeit for losing the game was to be their slave for the next twenty-four hours. To make sure partly that nobody took too much advantage of the situation but mainly so that she didn't enjoy the pleasures not allowed to slaves, she was also wearing a sturdy leather chastity belt, locked in place, with the key safely in Mark’s possession.

"Excellent!" Steve cried as they approached, "this calls for a drink. Off you go, slave!"

"Yes, Sir," Bethany murmured as she jumped to her feet and went to the refrigerator, bringing back beers for everyone, before returning to her kneeling position.

"Come along, little slave," Mark said as he put a finger through the D-ring on the front of her collar, "I have a little job for you. See you guys a little bit later." Bethany followed meekly as he led her upstairs, but she couldn't keep the grin off her face.

"I think you know what I want, slave?" Mark asked once they were in their bedroom.

"Yes, Sir," Bethany replied, going down on her knees before him and easing down his shorts. Mark’s not-so-little soldier stood smartly to attention, and she lavished it with all the attention it deserved.

"Mmmm, that's a good slave," Mark moaned, "oh yes, that is definitely just what I needed!" Encouraged by his obvious enjoyment, Bethany used her lips, tongue, fingers, even her breasts, to bring as much pleasure as she could to him, enjoying his increasingly uncontrolled vocalisations. It wasn't long before his ‘staff of life’ was overflowing with ‘milk and honey’, and she drank greedily from the fountain [That’s enough euphemisms. Ed]

"Excellent work, you dirty little slut," Mark said, smiling down at her once he had recovered, "now you'd better get busy and service your other superiors, hadn't you?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," she replied, before getting to her feet and making her way out into the hallway. She looked around, wondering where she should go first.

"Slave!" Well, that decision was made. She set off at a jog in the direction of the commanding shout, and found herself in Tiffany and Georgie’s room.

The sight which greeted her was not quite what she had expected. Tiffany was spread out on the bed, naked and tied down. Georgie was sitting near her head with a cane in her hand, which she was using to deliver small but painful blows to the helpless woman's breasts. Tiffany yelped each time the rattan cane struck her, writhing around and tugging on the ropes. Georgie looked over at Beth as she sank down onto her knees in submission.

"Well, come on, slave," she barked, "there’s a pussy here, and it ain't gonna lick itself! " To illustrate her point, she tapped Tiffany on her fuzz-covered Venus mound, eliciting another short squeal and a valiant but doomed attempt to pull her thighs together for protection.

Bethany quickly crawled up onto the bed and positioned herself between Tiffany's legs, bending to the task before her and starting about it with great gusto. The cane returned to tap at her breasts, but Tiffany seemed less interested now as she focused on the activity between her thighs, her cries of anguish quickly changing to moans of pleasure.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Georgie now trained her attack on the white globes presented in front of her. As the cane landed with somewhat more force, Bethany squealed, although the sound was muffled by Tiffany's body. This seemed to increase the effect of the slave’s administrations for her, and the noises emanating from her mouth became louder and more insistent as she called for greater effort from the slave. Georgie backed up her submissive partner’s demands by applying the cane even more firmly to the slave’s upturned buttocks, taking pleasure in the way she squirmed in vain to avoid the assault.

Eventually, Tiffany exploded in a display of verbal fireworks, crying out in her moment of extreme pleasure, before finally slumping on the bed, spent. Bethany went back to her kneeling position on the floor and watched as Georgie untied her girlfriend and they embraced with a clearly ardent passion. Feeling she was no longer required, Beth slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door behind her.

Now, where n-

“Slave!” How did they do that?! It was like they were co-ordinating this… and then she realised! The walkie-talkies! They were-

“Slave!  Get in here!” She dashed down the corridor and went into the room occupied by Penelope and Alan.

"There you are, about time!" Penelope grumbled. "You can settle an argument for us."

"This thing is," Alan interjected, "we have both been attending a Japanese Rope Skills evening class, and now we want to know who is the best."

"And this seemed like an ideal opportunity, "Penelope went on, "we take turns to tie you up and then you can judge who is best!"

"Yes, Miss," Bethany responded uncertainly.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dangling from the ceiling, completely encased in rope, with Alan standing proudly below her, making her gently twist in the air with the occasional push.

"Pretty good, huh?" he beamed at his girlfriend.

"Is that the best you've got?" she sneered.

"Think you can do better, hun? Go for it!"

Another thirty minutes went by before Penelope was satisfied with her work and Beth was once more suspended above them.

"You just copied what I did!" Alan protested.

"Could you do this?" Penelope said and, as she did so, she pulled on one of the ropes. Bethany gradually tilted from a horizontal position until she was vertical, her hair grazing the floor, her right leg pointing directly at the ceiling, her left horizontally out to the side.

"Or this?" Another quick adjustment and the bound slave was lying on her back in mid-air, legs spread wide, and her virtue only protected by the barrier of the chastity belt.

"What do you think of it, slave?" Bethany tried to respond, but the rope passing between her jaws meant that only inarticulate sounds and saliva emerged. She looked down to see if they were ready to free her yet, but her vision was severely impaired by the ropes tied across her eyes.

Eventually, after much discussion between the two enthusiastic trainees, Bethany felt herself being lowered and, once she was back on terra firma, the loosening and removal of the ropes.

"So, tell us slave, who wins?" Penelope asked triumphantly.

"Well, Sir, Miss, you were both very good," Bethany dissembled, "I am not worthy to choose between you."

"Cut the crap," Alan snapped, "just tell us which was best."

"Um… Your rope work was excellent, Sir," the kneeling slave said hesitantly," I certainly never felt like I could get free, or that I was going to fall. However… your harness, Miss, while extremely tight felt very comfortable, I'm sure I could have stayed tied up for hours without anything going to sleep. Also, I seemed to be very exposed by your bondage, everything on display and available… the ropes seemed much neater against my body as well… So I suppose, I would have to say that the winner is…"

"I win! I win!" Penelope squealed, doing a little jig around the room. Alan, meanwhile, did not look best pleased.

"Come here, slave, I have something to tell you." He sat down on the edge of the bed and, when Beth stood in front of him, motioned for her to lie across his lap. She felt his hand on her back, holding her in place, as his other hand rose into the air with open palm, ready to strike.

"Slaves-SPANK!-must-SPANK!-never-SPANK!-ever-SPANK!-say-SPANK!-anything-SPANK!-against-SPANK!-their-SPANK!-superiors. Do-SPANK!-you-SPANK!-understand-SPANK!-slave?"

"Yes, Sir!" Bethany wailed, rubbing her glowing buttocks as a few tears roll down her cheeks.

"Very good," Alan said, letting her up, "now off you go, we're done with you."

It was 3 AM before the house finally quietened down and everybody was asleep, completely satisfied. All, that is, except slave Bethany. Having provided assistance, in one way or another, for the sexual activities of all her friends, she was not only exhausted but frustrated as hell. She quietly padded downstairs and tidied up, as was her job for the night.

When everything was done, she went out onto the deck and sat on the steps, looking up at the night sky. Above her, the Milky Way spread out in a blaze of a billion stars, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. She loved this time of night, so quiet and peaceful, but she knew she had to get some sleep before the rigours of the next day. Wearily, she made her way over to the pet cage which served as the sleeping quarters for the Slave of the Day. She crawled inside onto the small, oval mattress and pulled the blanket over her. Despite her tiredness, her mind continued to whirl around the events of the past few hours, and her hand wandered down between her thighs, only to be rebuffed by the unyielding resistance of the chastity belt. Still incredibly frustrated, she eventually fell asleep.

Bethany awoke with the first rays of sun shining down through the wire cage. She extricated herself and, after an extravagant yawn and stretch, went into the cabin to prepare breakfast.

The rest of the gang came down in ones and twos over the next few hours, sleepily ordering their cooked breakfast and partaking of the fresh coffee and juices that their slave provided. Once they had finished, they moved out onto the veranda and either slept, read a book, or chatted between themselves.

Meanwhile, Bethany cleared away and washed up, put the laundry on, pushed round the vacuum cleaner and dusted around the cabin, put the laundry out to dry, and set about preparing lunch.

It was decided that they would take lunch down by the lake, which seemed like a great idea, except for Beth, who had to ferry everything from the cabin to the lake shore about a quarter of a mile away. She was kept running back and forth the whole time, bringing cold beers and iced water to her pampered friends, and taking away dirty plates and empty bottles.

After lunch, the group decided a spot of sunbathing would be in order. Once again, their slave’s services were called upon to apply suncream and to provide cold drinks for the entire afternoon.

As the sun went down, Bethany's last task as Slave for the Day was to prepare the evening meal. As they were having a barbecue and, as always, the men insisted on cooking the meat, this was not too onerous a task. She had just enough time to go upstairs and have a quick shower and get dressed for dinner. She was annoyed and intensely frustrated that the rules of The Game decreed that she was not allowed to remove the chastity belt until after dinner, just in case she might be tempted to relieve the tension before her full twenty four hours were completed.

As she came down the stairs, there was an enthusiastic round of applause, and she was inundated with compliments about her sterling performance over the previous day.

"Honestly," Melanie enthused, "we've never had such a good slave! Maybe you should do it on a permanent basis?"

"No way!" Beth laughed, "much as I love you all, you are a very demanding bunch!"

The dinner was perfect, with plenty of laughter and wine to go around. As they finished their dessert, Bethany's mind turned to the next iteration of The Game. Who would she like to see take her place as their slave for the next day? She rather liked David, she never tired of looking at his naked body, and having that large member of his locked away in that painful-looking cage all day would be a huge laugh.

The one thing she didn't want was for Mark to be selected. She had a very definite plans for their evening, and it certainly didn't involve him having his manhood inaccessible to her! She looked over at him hungrily, envisioning exactly what she was going to do with him and to him…

"Oh, come on, you cannot be SERIOUS!!"

"Oh no, darling, what terrible luck, drawing the short straw again! The Gods of Chance have got it in for you! But rules is rules, honey. Get out there and shake your booty for us!"

Disbelievingly, Bethany made her way to the centre of the room and began taking off the clothes which she had only just put on, while the rest of the gang laughed at their escape and her misfortune, and shouted their appreciation of her performance.

Mark discreetly disposed of the nine other short straws in his hand and watched as his wife was bound, this time with leather belts and a bit gag. Although he was sure she would deny it, her 'secret' submissive nature would be loving this. Idly, he wondered how many days in a row they would be able to get away with this before she cottoned on. Mind you, he thought, his wife was an intelligent woman. Maybe she had worked it out already…