I was woken the next day by banging on the door. I was disoriented and couldn't understand why I was handcuffed and gagged, then I remembered the day before and panicked. I looked out of the bedroom window and saw that the workmen had arrived to install my septic tank, but were looking around for 'the lady of the house' before they could start. One of them looked up, shading his eyes from the early morning sun, and I dived out of sight. What was I going to do? I needed this work done but I wasn't going out like this!

Luckily (really? Luck? I don't think so), Dafne turned up a few minutes later and I heard her saying that I was probably still asleep or tied up with something (smooth line!), and that they should get started while she sorted me out. I was grateful when she came in to release me, and I went to put on some clothes so I could go and talk to the man in charge.

"Hang on," she said, "It's such a lovely day, you should do some sunbathing."

"But it's a little cold at the moment," I said in as conciliatory a tone as possible, I didn't want her to think I was arguing, I had seen what that led to the day before.

"Nevertheless, pet," she said firmly, "I think you should wear this." She was holding up a bright white bikini I had bought a few years ago for a holiday in Greece but never actually dared to wear, it was just too revealing - three small triangles of material strung together.

"Oh please don't make me aware that!" I pleaded, "I don't know why I ever bought it! I'll be virtually naked!"

"Have you seen those young guys? They're really hot!" Dafne replied with a smile, "I think they'd really appreciate seeing you in this. Go on, put it on." I felt a little turn of my stomach as I reluctantly dressed in the tiny bikini – was it queasiness at the humiliation of being forced to wear something so inappropriate, or excitement at exposing myself so brazenly to public gaze? I wasn't sure.

I went out into the garden and waved to the three men, watching as they turned and stared, realising the cool morning air was making my nipples stand out through the thin material and that was definitely attracting their attention. I introduced myself and found out that the foreman, Brian, was actually the father of Dave and Steve, two strapping young lads barely out of their teens and barely able to keep their eyes in their sockets. I had to agree with my friend, they were definitely very sexy. Suddenly, the idea of displaying my assets like this didn't seem such a bad one.

I took their drinks order and imagined their faces as I walked away, my buttocks exposed by the thong at the back of my bikini. Once I had delivered their ridiculously sweet tea, Dafne told me to go and work on my tan, making sure I did it right in front of the boys. Feeling terribly embarrassed, I got out a towel and lay down on the grass to watch all the hard work.

As the sun rose, it became very warm (for England) and the two young men stripped off their shirts with great alacrity, eager to show off their rather impressive builder's bodies. Dafne, obviously enjoying my discomfort, brought out the tanning oil.

"Get one of them to apply this," she whispered, watching as I blushed, before steeling myself for the task.

"Excuse me, could one of you help me with this?" I called out, holding up the bottle, and watched as they almost came to blows in their rush to grab it. Dave, the older, taller but not quite as attractive brother won and, with a broad grin, followed me across the lawn and knelt down next to me as I lay down on my stomach. I could see the front of his jeans straining and I invited him to 'oil me up'. Despite my embarrassment at being forced to flaunt myself like this, I really enjoyed his touch as he worked the oil into my shoulders and then his hands glided down to the small of my back, rubbing down to the top of my buttocks.

"Do my legs as well, please" I said dreamily, and felt his hands kneading my calves and the back of my thighs. Reflexively, I opened my legs slightly and, growing in confidence, he rubbed oil into my buttocks and let his fingers stray between my thighs. It was so long since I had felt a man touch my body in such a sensual fashion that I was soon on the verge of 'popping my cork'. Just in time, I managed to say 'Thank you' and take the bottle from him. He looked disappointed and I saw him swallow hard before he got back to his feet, hardly able to straighten up he had such a hard-on!

"You'll get a tan line if you're not careful," Dafne said and, bending over me, unclipped my bikini top. I lay there for thirty minutes, dozing in the sun, dreaming of those hands touching my body, sliding up between my thighs…

"Call the other one over now and get him to do your front," my friend ordered, in her firmest tone. I gave her a look of resigned compliance, but I was quite looking forward to being touched up again.

I sat up and reached around to fasten my bikini top, but it was suddenly whipped away, forcing me to cover myself with my arm. As I looked around, Dafne sat down again on her sun lounger with a wicked smile. Knowing that there was no way I was getting the garment back, I turned back to the hole, and the team working away.

"Steve, could you help me now, please?" I called over. I held out the oil with my free hand and, as he bounded over, I lay back down on my back, which brought him to a shuddering halt with his mouth hanging open. Following Dafne's urgent gestures, I had put my hands behind my head, so he was now staring at my bare breasts.

"Could you do my front, please?" I asked in my best helpless-little-girl voice.

The look on his face was a picture of lust, confusion and slight intimidation. I gave him an encouraging smile and he snapped out of it, kneeling down beside me and dribbling oil across my breasts. I let out an appreciative moan as he started to rub it in, working it until my nipples were standing erect and I was biting my lip in excitement.

After what seemed an age, he moved on to my stomach and then my thighs. I was squirming under his touch now and struggling to stop myself cumming. As he worked the oil around the tops of my thighs, pushing the strings of my bikini bottoms up and then pulling them down a little, I couldn't take it anymore, and it was with the utmost difficulty that I sent him away.

"Thank you, Steve, I'll take it from here." He looked even more disappointed than his brother as he returned to carry on working.

About an hour later, Dafne decided it was time for lunch and I went over to where the three men were working. I was still topless and glistening with oil, so all eyes were on me.

"Would you like another cup of tea? Or maybe something to cool you down – it is very hot out here." I led them into the house and we all had an ice cold beer. I couldn't help being amused by how Steve couldn't keep his eyes off my breasts, while Dave kept switching from my breasts to my arse, but neither of them ever looked at my face. Brian was trying to be a gentleman, so didn't stare, but then he couldn't trust himself to look at me at all. He and Dafne drifted into a corner, deep in conversation. After a few minutes, she made her excuses and left, saying that she needed to 'slip into something more comfortable'.

We were into a second beer when Dafne returned. She looked sensational in sunglasses, tight riding breeches, knee-length boots and a white linen top unbuttoned to show plenty of cleavage. The young boys gave her an appreciative glance before carrying on staring at my more obvious attractions, but Brian seemed smitten and engaged her once more in rapt conversation.

I was feeling a little tipsy by the time they went back to work and quite fancied a snooze, but Dafne had other ideas.

"You've certainly lost your inhibitions, haven't you?" she remarked archly.

"Yes, this is fun," I murmured. When I heard myself say that, I was shocked – I was definitely enjoying the beer buzz and had been turned on by the morning's teasing, but I realised that for the first time, the thought of being controlled by Dafne was making me excited. She picked up on that and gave a broad smile.

"Let's see if we can help you lose a few more then, shall we? Wait here." She went out to her car and I heard her take some things into the garage, then she came back into the kitchen holding a black leather hood, bristling with buckles and straps.

"Put this on," she said, handing it to me. I could see it had no eye holes and as I brought it to my face, I had to bite down on a fitted mouthpiece which was like a built-in ring gag. As I pulled it over my head, I was plunged into darkness, and I could only stand submissively as Dafne tightened the straps one by one, until the hood was clinging to my face. She took my hand and led me into the garage, the concrete floor cold underneath my bare feet.

"Take off your panties and wipe yourself with them, your cunt is dripping wet, you slut," she ordered, but in an amused tone. I slipped off my bikini bottom and wiped between my legs, the feel of the material against my swollen vulva almost enough to bring me off.

"Put them in your mouth," she commanded. Obediently, and perhaps a little too eagerly, I stuffed the damp material through the hole in the mask and got my first taste of my own juices which, I was surprised to find, was not entirely unpleasant.

"Clasp your hands together behind your back." I did as I was told and felt something being pulled up over my arms. After a few seconds confusion, I realised it was an armbinder, or single glove, something I had only ever seen in photos on porn sites or fetishwear websites but had fantasised about wearing for years.

I felt it pulled up over my elbows onto my upper arms, then the straps go over my shoulders and across my chest to the buckles under my armpits, tightening and restricting my already shallow, ragged breathing. Now I felt a strap around my wrists and the straps along the glove tightened until my forearms were virtually welded together. I let out a howl of protest as my shoulders were pulled back, but this just encouraged Dafne to pull the last strap one more notch before buckling it down.

Totally blind and helpless, I could only stand there as I felt a strap tighten around my right ankle, then Dafne was forcing my legs wider and wider apart, before I felt a strap buckled around my other ankle. I knew this from porn pictures too, it was a spreader bar. For the first time, I hoped Dafne would take a picture of me, because I wanted to see what I looked like in all this classic bondage gear!

If I had been thinking straight, I could have guessed what was coming next, but I was a little distracted, so it took me by surprise when my arms were hauled up into the air behind me, forcing me to bend forward. I guessed Dafne had tied a rope to the end of the armbinder, tossed it over a roof beam and was now pulling on it, until I was doubled over and my arms were straight up in the air behind me.

"Comfortable?" I heard whispered next to my ear, "Well, maybe when the boys have finished for the day, they'll come and help you out." I heard her walk away and the door close, leaving me there. My arms were already killing me and soon my hamstrings were burning like they were on fire, but there was nothing I could do but stand there and wait. I was so horny that if I'd just been able to touch myself for a minute, I know I would have cum, but for the rest of the afternoon I was just being tormented by my own desires.

The time passed slowly until, at last, I heard the door open again.

"You'll find Sally in there, boys," I heard Dafne's voice outside, "she was really insistent that you come and see her before you leave, she mentioned something about giving you a bonus. Your dad and I will wait for you in the house, so don't rush, I'm sure we can find something to do. Enjoy yourselves!"

"A bonus? That sounds  g-Jesus, will you look at this!" I heard in Steve's soft west country burr.

"What is i-Holy Shit!" Dave exclaimed loudly.

"Not so loud, dumbass," Steve hissed, "Dad'll hear you!"

"You reckon? I think he's only gonna be listening to that other bird – did you see the way she looked at him? Dirty mare!"

"Talkin' of dirty mares, what about this bitch? She's trussed up like a turkey ready for pluckin'!"

"I dunno, do you think we should?"

"Hello? Gift horse, mouth?! Are you gonna look in it or fuck it?" This conversation was going on above me as they circled around, checking me out. I felt a hand grab my breast and squeeze, then another on my buttock, pinching it. I let out some stifled cries, and felt the bikini pulled out of my mouth as they examined their prize. My knees almost buckled as I felt fingers on my pussy, parting my lips and exploring inside.

"Jeez, she's wetter than a dog on heat!" Steve said, "I reckon she's well up for this!"

"Alright, you take that end, I'll take this." Moments later my mouth was full of cock and then, with my thighs being held tight, I felt a shaft drive into my hot little pussy and I came almost immediately.

I'm not very good at giving head, and I was choking and gagging terribly, but as I was experiencing my long-held fantasy of being gang-raped in bondage, I didn't really care. Each thrust forced me forward onto the cock in my mouth and reminded me painfully of the restraints on my arms and legs, as they held me so strictly. But that just added to the excitement!

Before I could prepare myself, I was climaxing again. I wanted them to keep going but, in a flurry of groans and thrusts, first my mouth and then my pussy was filled with spunk. They both withdrew, and I was left standing there, semen drooling from my mouth and dribbling down my thigh, tantalisingly close to a third orgasm.

"Fuck, that was good!" I heard Dave say after a few minutes.

"You wanna change ends and go again?" Yes, yes, yes, I thought.

"Hell yes!" Dave exclaimed enthusiastically.

I came another couple of times as they took me again, once more filling me with their ejaculations.

"Christ, I'm knackered!" Steve said, "Shall we get another beer?" I was disappointed when I heard them leaving, as I was ready to take it all again if they were up to it.

As the adrenalin wore off, I started to realise how tired I was and how much my body was aching. I was relieved when, maybe an hour later, I heard the door open and Dafne's boots clipping on the concrete.

"Had a good time?" she asked rhetorically. "I didn't say you could have those boys, did I? You need to be punished for your wanton lust and disgusting behaviour!" I was alarmed by what she said, although it sounded like she was in a good mood. Maybe she was joking? Surely, she wouldn't…?

I felt something touching my buttock, lying against it, then I let out a squeal as it stung me painfully. I squealed again as the sharp pain was repeated on the other buttock and I realised that, for the first time in my life, I had been hit by the end of a riding crop! Time and time again, the sharp blows were repeated, sending brief jolts of pain through me until she had struck every square inch of my bottom.

Suddenly, I let out a howl as I felt the thin switch slashed down across both buttocks, leaving a line of pain glowing across my soft flesh. I was twisting and turning in my bonds now, crying out as the rod whipped down on me again and again, striking me on the buttocks and the tops of my thighs.

The beating finally ended, and all I could hear was my sobbing and the rasping of my breath. Then the painful stinging blows started again, but this time on my nipples and around my breasts. I recoiled each time I was struck, but it went on for several minutes, driving me mad, like I was being bitten by particularly large, angry mosquitoes.

After another brief pause, I squealed in surprise and pain as the sharp slaps of the leather resumed, but now against the still-engorged lips of my pussy! Now I was screaming as she beat out an agonising rhythm on my tender flesh.

At last it stopped. The rope holding my arms up went slack and I sank to my knees and then lay on the floor, thankful for the relief of pressure on my shoulders. The straps around my ankles were unbuckled and I could stretch some of the pain out of my thighs. Finally the hood was loosened and pulled free.

I looked up to see Dafne standing over me, one boot either side of my head, her blouse open and her tousled black hair cascading onto her shoulders. Her breeches were gone and I was looking up at her mound of black pubic hair glistening in the dim light. She was holding the riding crop and laid it against my cheek.

"So, who's in charge here, Sally?" she asked pointedly.

"You are," I replied meekly but with a feeling of excitement rather than dread.

"Very good. I hope you understand why I punished you for your earlier behaviour."

"Yes, I think I do."

"Oh, really? Why?"

"Because you wanted to."

"Quite right, and surprisingly perceptive. And now I want you to make me cum."

As she bent her knees, her wet pussy lowered towards my face and I could see the semen still clinging to her – had she had the father, the sons or all three? I didn't know, but I had no doubt she could have made them do whatever she wanted. I opened my mouth as her lips pressed against mine, my tongue darting in to seek out her swollen clitoris. I was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure as I delved as deep as I could into her.

"Open your legs," she growled and, as I did so, I felt the leather flap of the crop rubbing roughly over my shaved mound and pressing between my lips. As I worked frantically with tongue and lips to distract her, I felt her fingers spreading me open and exposing my clitoris.

I convulsed when the first blow landed, my scream muffled by her body. I licked and sucked ever more desperately, and she moaned and squirmed above me, but nothing I did could prevent her striking out a second time, making me buck and writhe in agony.

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, she reached back and rubbed my bruised clitoris. I knew I was going to cum quickly, but I tried to ignore my own orgasm and force her to climax with me. I redoubled my efforts and felt her arch her back, pressing her body down into my face. She cried out at last and I tasted her juices as they squirted into my mouth and face. Finally she lifted herself off me and lay out on the floor beside me. I was secretly proud that, for the first time, I had wrested control from my dominatrix friend, if only for the briefest moment.

A little later, as we enjoyed a glass of wine in the kitchen, Dafne, now fully dressed and sitting at the table, me still naked and kneeling at her feet, ran her fingers through my hair.

"You've been a good girl today, Sally."

"Thank you." I couldn't believe how I had been turned from outraged blackmail victim into willing submissive so quickly, but it just felt so natural.

"Your time as my pet won't always be quite so enjoyable. You know that, don't you?" I thought back to the excruciating pain of the beating and was a little frightened by the prospect of something worse than that. But then I remembered the climax which followed it and realised that, under her control, pain and pleasure went hand-in-hand.

"Yes. Thank you," I said and, to my own surprise, knew that I meant it.

"Good girl," she purred condescendingly, "you seem to be coming to terms with your role quite nicely. You will come and serve me on Saturday. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Dafne," I responded nervously. What did she mean, 'serve' her? Did that mean more days like today? The prospect scared me but, overwhelmingly, excited me as well…