I was up early that Saturday morning so that I could complete my 5 mile run and have a quick shower before I arrived at Dafne and Stefan's house at about 9 AM. I was feeling nervous and uncertain about what to expect, a little bit fearful of how I would be treated, but also excited at the prospect. The back door was already open, and I went in to find Dafne in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee, dressed only in a silky negligee and slippers.

"Good morning, pet, good to see you're on time - I don't accept tardiness, it shows such disrespect. How are you today?" she said, fixing me with an intense stare. Detecting that her steely tone indicated her intention to be a true Dominant, I decided that I needed to convince her of my own preparedness for the day's activities as her submissive.

"Good morning, Dafne," I replied, even throwing in a small curtsy, "I am good, thank you. Ready to serve you." Saying the words made my heart beat a little faster, and a few butterflies began to stir in my stomach.

"Excellent, then let us begin," she smiled. "You can start by taking those clothes off, you won't be needing them." I quickly stripped out of the summer dress and shoes I had on - anticipating that this would happen, I hadn't bothered with underwear that morning.

I stood before her, feeling rather self-conscious as she looked me up and down, seeming to check every square inch of bare flesh, perhaps looking for blemishes or marks, in the way you might check the bodywork of a car you were taking delivery of. Or maybe she doesn't want to take delivery of damaged goods, I thought. Or perhaps she wants to be able to assess how much damage she inflicts…

I felt demeaned by her emotionless examination, no longer a friend, perhaps not even a submissive, I was reduced to something less, whatever that might be - just a thing, an object to be assessed for its value, or lack thereof. As the minutes dragged by, I became more and more uncomfortable, my self-confidence draining away. Eventually, she stood up and walked over to me.

"Stop fidgeting, girl!" she barked, "shoulders back, chest out!" As I nervously stood to attention, her hand cupped my breast, a finger flicking at my nipple until it was stiff. She repeated this stimulation on my other breast and nipple, before letting her hand slide down across my soft tummy, kept slim by my running regime but not flat and firm in a six-pack, which I always felt rather unattractive on a woman.

She walked around me, continuing her inspection, her fingers trailing across my hip as she did so, then moving on to fondling my buttocks. My breath was becoming more shallow as I kept my gaze straight in front, not daring to look around at her.

She stopped in front of me, staring into my face to judge my reaction as she suddenly grabbed my crotch. I gasped as I felt a finger push into me, exploring deep within, before withdrawing and being raised to her nose.

"You're very wet, my dear," Dafne murmured, "I'm glad I'm having the desired effect on you." She pushed her slimy digit between my lips and, as it seemed to be expected, I licked it clean.

"Follow me, bring those clothes," she commanded as she walked past me, and I did, meekly, submissively. She led me into the hall and opened a cupboard under the stairs.

"This is where you can store your clothes," she explained, "and this is where you will find your uniform as well. Get dressed, please." I put my dress and shoes down on the floor and looked at what I was to wear. To my delight, it was beautiful, shiny, black latex!

The latex stockings were similar to my own, possibly a little tighter, if that's possible. There were a pair of black patent leather buckle shoes which were even more extreme than anything I had - about a 3 inch platform and stiletto heels which must've been at least 7 inches, maybe more! I put them on, and felt like a rather unsteady giant. Eagerly, I moved on to what I was particularly looking forward to - the dress on its hangar by the wall.

It was, of course, in the most gorgeous black latex. I impatiently struggled into it before checking it out in some detail. The bodice was skin-tight, molding itself around my breasts and erect nipples, the smooth expanse of reflective material across my stomach even showing the dip of my belly button. The neckline was plunging, leaving my chest exposed and my shoulders bare, with tiny puffed sleeves on my upper arms.

The skirt hung loosely over my hips, barely long enough to reach the tops of my thighs and cover my bottom. I knew that any bending would expose me, either front or back. Just the feel of the dress against my skin was incredible, but I also knew I looked drop-dead sexy!

There were some final accessories, all in latex - short, black, dress gloves, a tiny, white apron which fastened around my waist, and a black choker to go around my neck, strips of latex hanging down from it onto my bare chest.

"What a picture of loveliness!" Dafne exclaimed as she made me give her a twirl. "Now, what could be better than a beautiful girl in a latex uniform? I know! A beautiful girl in a latex uniform and bondage! Here, put these on." She handed me two pairs of cuffs, each with a short length of chain between them.

I put one set of cuffs on my ankles, hobbling myself, and started to cuff my wrists behind my back.

"No, just do them in front," Dafne said. I did so, assuming that this was so that I would be able to move around relatively freely. Not much point in bondage, I thought a little disappointedly, if it's not tight.

But I had underestimated Dafne's plan. She moved behind me and, pulling my arms back, looped a wide leather belt around them just above my elbows. She tugged on the belt until my elbows were quite close, my arms were pinned to my sides, and the chain between my wrists was stretched tight across my lower abdomen and hips.

"Tight enough for you?" Dafne said, as if she'd been reading my mind. She forced a ring gag between my jaws, holding them open, and buckled it tightly behind my head.

"There, you're all set," she smiled, "now what I want you to do this morning is to hoover and dust throughout downstairs. You're going to have difficulty reaching the higher surfaces with the duster, but don't worry, I've thought of that." She picked up a feather duster and, rather confusingly, a pink silicon dildo.

I was rather astonished as I watched her push the end of the feather duster handle into a hole in the dildo, giving it a rather lewd handle grip. I was even more astonished, and rather alarmed, when, with one hand behind my head to stop me pulling away, she forced the large phallus through the ring gag and deep into my mouth until I was gagging and retching on it.

When she was done, and the thing was thoroughly jammed into the ring so that it couldn't be spat out, I could see the end of the feather duster waving about in front of my face. The dildo was filling my mouth, it's tip grazing the back of my tongue and throat uncomfortably, making me feel like I was about to throw up at any moment.

"Okay, you can start work now," Dafne said as she placed the upright vacuum cleaner in front of me, "I'm going back to bed for a while. Make sure you do a good job - I'll be inspecting later and if I'm not satisfied… well, you may not be able to sit down in class for a while! When you've finished, come up and find me, I'll have something else for you to do by then." With that, she went up the stairs, leaving me staring after her in amazement.

So this is what she meant by 'serving' her, I thought, working as an unpaid cleaner! I felt thoroughly offended and outraged, but then started to think about my situation. I'm in very tight, very sexy rubber, I'm in very restrictive bondage, and I'm in a very perilous position - if I don't complete this rather tricky task satisfactorily, I'll receive some severe punishment. When viewed in this light, things seemed a whole lot more exciting!

I had an interesting morning, to say the least. Pushing the vacuum cleaner around was difficult with my hands pinned so closely against me, but I managed okay. Dusting furniture, ornaments and shelves with a duster sticking out of my face was altogether more tricky. I was forever having to lean across, kneel down, or stretch up on my tiptoes to get the duster at the right level to be effective. And every time I went to work, the act of wiping the feathers from side to side or front to back made the dildo in my mouth move in the opposite direction, irritating my throat and causing me to make the most awful retching noises.

It was nearly 11 o'clock before I had finally finished all the rooms and, hoping that my work would be judged favourably, went upstairs. This was not a straightforward task as, with my ankles hobbled and wearing the skyscraper platform heels, each step up was a trial. I was also scared that, if I did make a misstep and lose my balance, I couldn't reach out to steady myself and would, in all probability, crash down to the bottom of the stairs again.

Eventually, I made it to the top and, after a brief search, found Dafne's bedroom. She and her husband, Stefan, were propped up, reading the papers, in a vintage four-poster bed, which suited their 17th-century cottage perfectly.

"Ah, there you are, pet," Dafne said as she looked up, "I was wondering where you'd got to! Here, let me take that thing out of your mouth for you." As I stood beside the bed, she managed to work the dildo free from the ring gag and pull it out, releasing a stream of saliva which drooled down my chin, resisting my attempts to prevent it. She turned to her husband.

"Darling, I think you were saying earlier that you had something you wanted Sally's help with?"

"Hm? Sorry?" Stefan murmured distractedly, before finally dragging his eyes from the newspaper and looking around. When he saw me, his eyes lit up and his face split in a beaming smile. "Ah yes, Sally! Good to see you! Why don't you come round here and I'll show you my problem?"

As I shuffled around the bed, he got out of his side and turned towards me. He was wearing a pair of silk pyjamas, but what immediately took my attention was the erection proudly poking out through the slit in his trousers.

"Thing is, Sally," he said, putting his hands on his hips and sounding somewhat apologetic, "I do, from time to time, experience a dramatic case of what I believe in you English call a 'Morning Glory'. Dafne's not really a morning sex kind of a person, so… I was wondering if you could take care of it for me?"

I was rather stunned by this. What was he asking? Did he want to fuck me?! I looked plaintively at Dafne for some indication of what I should do.

"Oh, just blow him," she said rather dismissively after briefly looking up before returning to her magazine, "you'll be doing me a favour and it'll keep the old man quiet for a while. You don't mind, do you, Sally?" Feeling like I didn't have much choice, I slowly got down on my knees in front of him.

He needed no further encouragement and, grabbing the hair behind my ears, he pulled me forward and slid his impressive pole through the ring gag and into my mouth. Just as with the dildo-duster, I gagged and choked as he hit the back of my throat, retching noisily as my gag reflex kicked in. It didn't seem to concern him though, as he kept thrusting as deep as he could, roughly fucking my face hard and fast.

He pulled me forward even further, until his balls were pressed against my chin and my nose was buried in his pubic hair. This meant that the head of his cock was far enough into me to not only make me gag, but to block my airway as he forced me to swallow him. Luckily, I was only deprived of oxygen briefly, as he vigourously moved in and out, but it was disconcerting.

He got louder as his actions became more frenzied, grunting and groaning, crying out as well as talking dirty.

"Oh, fuck! That's good! So good! Use your tongue, you filthy slut! Yes! Take it, bitch!" And so on.

As he approached orgasm, he grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled back and down, until I was staring at the ceiling. He finished himself off with several firm strokes with his hand, and then he exploded, shooting out great spurts of semen, long strings of cum criss-crossing my face until, at last, he could do no more.

"Thanks, Sally, that was very good!" he panted, "sorry about the name-calling earlier, rather unpleasant, got a bit carried away, I'm afraid." Having made this rather bizarre apology, he shuffled off into the ensuite bathroom.

"Now you can see why I avoid him in the mornings," Dafne said, kneeling down in front of me with a sympathetic look on her face, "I should have told you, he worked for a couple of years in Amsterdam, making porn movies. His nickname was 'Old Faithful' because of the volume and frequency of his ejaculation - giving the girls a facial was his speciality. Let's clean you up."

To my astonishment, rather than getting a towel or something, she leaned forward and, holding my head in her hands, stuck out her tongue and licked me all over my face, great wet licks, cleaning up his cum and swallowing it herself.

"Still, they say it's good for the complexion. Why do you think my skin is so good?" she grinned, "and it's very nutritious. Believe me, when we first met, I virtually lived on the stuff!"

When she had cleaned my entire face in this way, she pulled me towards her and began kissing my still-gagged mouth, pushing her tongue through the ring and playing with my own. Our lips pressed together in an open-mouthed kiss before she pulled away, looking into my eyes with what appeared to be burning lust.

"God, you need a damn good fucking!" she murmured huskily. I looked around nervously at the bathroom door to see if Stefan was coming back.

"Not by him, silly! By me!" she laughed, "I'm going to fuck your cute, naive brains out!" This rather confused me, as I didn't really know what she meant - was she going to lick me? She helped me to stand up, but then pushed me away, and I fell backwards onto the bed.

"Stay there!" she said sternly, before pulling her negligee off over her head. She walked around to her side of the bed, and I couldn't see what she was doing, but a minute later she threw several things onto the bedspread beside me. There were a couple of skeins of rope, a tube of lubricant, and a strange-looking sex toy I didn't recognise.

It seemed to be a double-ended dildo, both ends pretty long and thick, but it was bent in the middle so that the ends were at, approximately, right angles. There was also a web of leather straps attached to it, and a pump bulb in the middle. What an earth is she going to do with that, I wondered. I didn't have long to wait to find out.

Dafne picked up the device and lubed one end of it, which she then slid into her own pussy. As she fastened the straps around her waist and thighs, I realised that it was a strap-on, with the other end dangling limply in front of her. So that's what she meant, I thought, she really is going to fuck me!

She unlocked and removed the cuffs from my ankles, allowing me to spread my legs for her, but that wasn't her intention. She picked up one of the ropes and tied one end around my left ankle, while the other end was tied quite high up on the bed post to my left, leaving my leg up in the air. She repeated this on my other ankle, attaching it to the bed post at the bottom of the bed, leaving my legs spread high and wide and my arse off the bed, up in the air.

"Prepare for incoming!" she smiled, pumping the bulb as she did so. The phallus dangling between her thighs began to straighten and thicken, until it was an impressive, fairly frightening, length and girth, standing proudly before her. From the glazed look in her eyes and the way she bit her lip, I guessed that the part inside her had expanded in a similarly dramatic way.

She squeezed a generous helping of lubricant onto the dildo, until it was glistening from tip to base, then positioned herself between my open legs. She grabbed my thighs, lifting me further off the bed, and drove into me, making me squeal in response to the overpowering sensation of being filled completely.

She fucked me hard, and we were both soon shouting out, giving ourselves over to the intense pleasure we were experiencing. I had never realised that a strap-on went both ways, but it was clear from Dafne's reactions that she was getting at least as much out of this as I was.

It didn't take long before my cries and grunts of pleasure at the stimulation turned to screams of ecstasy as my orgasm hit me like a train, sending juddering shivers through my whole body. Dafne kept thrusting into me for several minutes before, finally, she reached her own climax, throwing her head back and almost howling at the moment of release. She staggered backwards, pulling out, before collapsing onto the bed beside me.

"Holy fuck, that was good!" she gasped, "how was it for you?"

"'uck-i'g a'azi'g! 'ank 'oo," I slurred through the gag.

Half an hour later, we were sitting downstairs, having breakfast. Well, I say we were having breakfast; they were sitting at the table having breakfast, I was kneeling on the floor, not having breakfast but chewing on the phallus of the panel gag across my face.

"I think you've found a winner here, darling," Stefan said with a smile as he looked over at me, "she seems much more… amenable than Alice was." Alice, I thought, who's Alice?!

"You have to remember, dear, when Alice first joined us, she wasn't comfortable with any kind of sex play, let alone what we wanted to do to her," Dafne replied, "this one was already playing kinky sex games when I found her, so she has less distance to travel, psychologically."

"Well, I'm looking forward to exploring her limits," Stefan mused pensively as he buttered another piece of toast, "perhaps expanding them a little."

"Today, I'd like to get some good pictures for the website," Dafne continued, "maybe a video as well, just to keep the customers satisfied. I thought we could go to the beach, that would be fun." I glanced nervously between them, wondering if I had made a mistake in agreeing to come here today, as they looked hungrily at me. What did they really want from me? I realised I had no real idea.

"I'm not sure I want to continue with this, Dafne," I ventured when released from my bondage and the gag, "your husband, Stefan… he frightens me. Maybe it would be a good idea if I just…" I let the sentence trail off, hoping that she would understand my misgivings and reassure me.

"Oh, don't worry about him," she said sympathetically as she helped me out of the dress and stockings, "I completely understand that you're nervous, and that things are moving very quickly for you. But just concentrate on the good times you and I have had together already! I have your best interests at heart, Sally. Trust me, and I will bring you to new heights of pleasure, introduce you to delights you never dreamed of!"

As she was saying this, her hands were roaming over my naked body, touching, feeling, caressing, stoking my lust until it burned within me, leaving all thoughts of caution and concern scattered and splintered. Dafne stood behind me, tweaking a nipple with the fingers on one hand, massaging my clitoris with the other.

"I know how you love the feel of rope against your skin," she whispered in my ear while, at the same time, drawing my arms behind me and slowly wrapping my wrists in hemp. "You like it tight, inescapable. You want to give yourself up to that feeling of helplessness, to cede control…"

She continued to restrain my unresisting body, binding my wrists together, then my elbows, before encircling me, pinning my arms to my sides, criss-crossing my chest, crushing my breasts until they were enveloped in a rope cage, just my stiff nipples poking out. And all the time, whispering sweet words of forbidden pleasures into my ear.

"And the gag, of course you must wear the gag," she continued in the same beguiling voice as she forced a bar of stiff rubber between my teeth, prising open my jaws, "it removes your obligation to object to such treatment, doesn't it? Now, with the power of speech gone, you no longer have to spout the dull orthodoxy of this being wrong, disgusting, depraved… You can just give yourself over to the intense feeling of sensuality within you…" Her fingers continued to tease me and, inflamed beyond the point of reason by her words, I cried out plaintively as I came.

"Are you two ready to go?" I opened my eyes and saw Stefan standing in front of me, a broad leer on his face, and my feelings of disquiet returned. Despite what I had done with him earlier, I still felt embarrassed to be naked in front of him, knowing that he had just watched me in the throes of my orgasm.

"Yes, let's get on with it," Dafne said in a cool, businesslike voice, contrasting jarringly with the honeyed tones she had so recently been using to, I now realised, seduce me back into submission. As she took my arm and started to lead to me forward, I resisted, standing my ground and shaking my head, making inarticulate noises of protest past the gag strapped tightly around my face.

"Having a little trouble there, darling?" Stefan said, "here, let me help you with that." He grabbed me and put me over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, carrying me across the room, through the kitchen, out into the garage. I looked back towards Dafne, frantically crying out to her in the hope that she would stop him, but she was just following us, smiling.

Stefan opened the rear door of his 4x4 and put me on the back seat. I tried to get up, to fight him off, but I felt rope being tied around my ankles and then attached to the bindings around my arms, leaving me in a painfully restrictive hogtie. The door slammed shut behind me and the two of them got into the front.

"You okay there, honey?" Dafne said, turning to look at me. I screamed around the gag and struggled uselessly against the tight bondage. "Calm down, Sally! It makes everything so much more exciting if it feels like you're being abducted against your will, doesn't it? Stefan loves playing the villain, don't you, darling?"

"Absolutely," Stefan grinned as he started the engine and pulled out into the street, "especially when I've got such a beautiful victim! Do you think you should cover her up whilst we're going through the village? Prying eyes and all that." Suddenly, I found myself in darkness as Dafne threw a blanket over me.

We drove for over an hour before finally coming to a halt. I blinked at the bright sunlight when the blanket was removed, and I tried to look where we were, but all I could see from my low angle was the clear blue sky above, heralding a beautifully sunny day.

Dafne got out of the car and opened the rear door to untie my legs and help me out. As I looked around in alarm to see if anyone was watching, I saw that we were surrounded by sand dunes. But, to my relief, the area was deserted.

"This is one of my favourite places in Devon," she said almost conversationally although, at the same time, she was tying the end of a long piece of rope around my waist. "So beautiful, yet so quiet, we rarely see anybody at all out here. Occasionally, but rarely. Funny how you can go just a few miles off the tourist trail and discover such wilderness."

As she burbled on in this inconsequential manner, she knotted the rope tight then pulled it between my legs, from back to front, and passed it under itself by my tummy button. She then took the other end of the rope back to the car, tying it securely to the towbar. It slowly dawned on me what was going to happen, but I hoped that this was just a set-up for some photographs.

That hope extinguished when Dafne reached into the vehicle and came back towards me carrying a video camera.

"You'll enjoy this," she said with a smile, "it combines four things I know you really love - exercise, tight bondage, a perilous challenge, and the possibility of public exposure! Okay, I'm going to take some action shots as Stefan drives you down to the beach." I began to shake my head and whine pathetically at her, but she ignored me, concentrating on getting the camera set up.

"Ny hoo'!" I squealed, "oo horgo' ny hoo'!"

"Your hood?" Dafne questioned, "oh yes, you don't want to be identified, do you? Sorry, I forgot to bring it." She carried on fiddling with the camera.

"Nooooo!!" I screamed desperately, "P'eash! Oo ca't!!" I turned away from her, trying to hide my face.

"Oh, okay," she said in an exasperated voice, "I'll see what I can do." She went back to the boot and returned clutching something.

"This will have to do," she grumbled, lifting her hand to show me a hessian sack with a slit across it. She pulled it over my head and there I was, looking out through the slit at her.

"Perfect!" she said, "no-one will recognise you with a bag over your head. Let's get this show on the road or, rather, on the sand. Okay, Stefan, take her away!" The engine roared into life and Dafne moved away until she could get both me and the vehicle into shot. I just stood there, staring out from inside the claustrophobic bag, not wanting to believe that this was really happening.

The 4x4 leapt forward up the steep incline of the nearest sand dune and the rope between it and me pulled taut. I let out a scream as the rough hemp scraped across my sex, pressing between my pussy lips to rub against my clitoris. Desperate to relieve the sudden unwelcome pressure, I staggered after the car, trying to move quickly enough to keep the rope slack.

As I made my way up the dune after the retreating motor, my feet sank into the soft sand, making progress difficult. The rope pulled tight a second time, providing me with all the motivation I needed to redouble my efforts to keep up.

At the top of the sandy hill, I caught a brief glimpse of the azure blueness of the sea in the distance but, between me and the beach stretched a desert of undulating dunes. I stared forlornly at the task I faced, but I tarried too long, and I was suddenly pitched forward, dragged by the rope digging into my pussy, sliding down the slope, fighting to keep my balance. I slithered to the bottom, almost catching up with Stefan, ending up sitting on the hot sand. But the engine roared and the vehicle moved away again, forcing me to scramble to my feet and run after it.

I was soon sweating profusely, which led to the sand sticking to my feet and legs when I sank into it, and every stumble or fall left me coated in the itchy granules. The 4x4 also sprayed me with sand if I got too close and the wheels span on the loose surface.

I had to breathe through the sack over my head, which made it cling to my face and become wet with my saliva. It became oppressively stuffy and cloying inside but, in a brief moment of lucidity, I realised that wearing a black latex hood would probably have been worse.

The 4x4 made its way inexorably across the dunes, forcing me to follow on behind, all the while conscious of the video camera trained on my naked and bound figure. Each steep ascent was a struggle as I slipped and stumbled on the soft, hot sand, fighting to keep the rope between my legs slack, but frequently losing that fight, resulting in another painful rope burn. The rope became wet with my sweat and grains of sand stuck to it, making it feel like sandpaper between my buttocks, across my perineum and, most agonisingly, between my pussy lips.

At last we arrived on the firm, level sand of the beach and I collapsed to my knees, gasping for breath.

"Excellent footage, pet!" Dafne exclaimed as she ran up, "I got some great shots from behind of your arse! Let's go paddling, I bet you really need to cool off!" I felt the rope pull tight between my legs again and, lifting my head, I saw that the car had started to slowly move forward again. Wearily, I got to my feet and staggered after it down the beach.

To my horror, the vehicle started to move more quickly down the gentle slope towards the waves. I had to start to jog, then go faster and faster, until I was running at full pace, pulled along by the rope, terrified that I might put a foot wrong and face-plant into the sand.

At the water's edge, the car veered to one side and shuddered to a halt. I ran past it, unable to stop, straight into the surf until I was knee-deep. At that point the water resistance was stopping my lower half moving forward, while my upper body continued at the same pace and, inevitably, I hit the water face first in a spectacular belly flop.

I sank beneath the surface until I could position my feet below me on to the seabed and get my head above water again. The hessian bag, now weighed down by seawater, clung to my face and made it difficult for me to breathe. Every attempt to suck in a much-needed lungful of air brought more water into my mouth and nostrils, making me cough and choke terribly. It felt like I was being waterboarded!

At last I began to recover but, with my legs feeling like jelly after my helter-skelter run down the beach, I just hung in the water, letting the sea support my body weight as the waves gently swayed me back and forth. The cold water started to make me shiver, but the relief as it soothed the pain caused by the rope rubbing against my aching pussy was gratefully received.

I looked back at the shoreline and saw that Dafne was still filming me. Stefan was standing beside her, clearly enjoying the show. I could see that they were having a discussion, but could not hear what was being said. After a few minutes, Stefan turned and got back in the car.

I really couldn't believe it when I heard the engine fire into life again. I screamed desperately at Dafne, hoping for some recognition of my suffering and a little mercy, while at the same time, on the assumption that I would get none, trying to stand up and prepare myself. Moments later, the rope pulled clear of the water and became taut, shaking droplets free along its length.

I now had to wade through the shallows, the water around my knees, trying to keep up with the car as it dragged me painfully along the beach. I started to move towards the dry sand but, as I did so, Stefan took the opportunity to speed up, so that I was jogging along, splashing through the foam of the breaking waves.

I don't know how far he drove, it felt like miles but, when he finally stopped, I fell flat out on the sand, totally exhausted.

"I think she's had as much as she can take, poor thing," I heard Dafne saying somewhere above me, "we'd better take her home."

"Really?" Stefan replied, sounding disappointed, "I was just having fun there! Can we just run her over the dunes again?" I rolled over onto my back and let out a mournful howl of protest at the idea. I knew I couldn't manage another step.

"No, darling, you've literally run her into the ground," Dafne scolded, "let's get her into the car." They picked my limp body up and dumped me into the boot.

"There you go, pet, don't want you suffocating or choking, do we?" Dafne said as she pulled the bag off my head and removed the gag, before turning to Stefan. "I'm starving! Fancy grabbing a bite to eat?"

"There's a new restaurant on the way back, supposed to be very good, let's give it a try."

"I haven't eaten since breakfast," I said in a whiny voice, hoping I might be included in the dinner plans.

"You want to join us in the restaurant?" Dafne asked, looking down at me, "sure, but there is one problem - I didn't bring any clothes for you, remember, you'd have to go in naked. I suppose you'd find that the rather stimulating… Do you want to do that?"

"No, I guess not," I replied sulkily, knowing I was defeated.

"Don't worry, we'll give you a full report." With that, Dafne slammed the boot lid shut and, moments later, the engine started and we pulled away. In my exhausted state, with the gentle rocking, and in the warm, stuffy darkness, I soon fell asleep.

When I woke up, we were stationary, although I decided that we must have only just stopped. I heard the doors slam shut and waited for the boot to be opened. And waited… It dawned on me that we had not reached home but were presumably at the restaurant.

I lay there for what seemed to be hours, listening as people walked by the car, wondering how long they would be, how long I would be cooped up in this steel, coffin-like prison. The ropes around my body were extremely uncomfortable, and the salt on my skin left by the evaporated seawater itched like mad, driving me to rub myself frantically against the scratchy nylon carpet. I found that brought very little relief from my discomfort.

I started thinking about the day I had just endured and, while it was clear that I had been monstrously mistreated, my reaction was still unclear. Was I scared by what had happened so far? Yes. Was I uncertain of what would happen next? Yes. Was I turned on by such harsh treatment? I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but really I knew - I had been sexually stimulated by everything that had been forced upon me. What was I turning into?

What had seemed like hours actually was hours before Dafne and Stefan finally returned.

"You okay, honey?" Dafne said as she opened the boot and looked down at me. "You'll be glad to know that the food was excellent, we must come back sometime when you're dressed for dinner. Now, would you like to come back to our place for the night, or do you want to be boring and go home?" I thought about what they might do to me if I stayed with them all night, and my fear got the better of my curiosity.

"I'm very tired," I replied, "I think I should go home, if that's okay with you."

"It's your choice, darling," Dafne responded, looking rather disappointed, "we'll drop you off on the way." She closed the boot lid - looks like I'm travelling home in style, I thought sarcastically.

At last, the car stopped and Dafne helped me out. But I quickly realised that we weren't outside my house, we were by the side of the road at least a couple of miles away from home.

"What's going on?" I asked as she untied me.

"Well, the night is still young," she said, despite the evidence of the gathering gloom around us, "and I was sure you'd enjoy one last adventure before you go to bed." As she said this, she grabbed my recently-freed wrists and locked them in handcuffs behind my back, before fastening the gag into my mouth once more. I let out a squeal, part in surprise, part in protest, and part to say 'What the Fuck?!'

"You can make your way home from here, can't you, Sally? Here's your house key" - she put the key in my hand behind my back - "and here is the key to your handcuffs." As I watched in bewilderment, she put clamps on my nipples and there, hanging from the chain between them, was the key.

"Now, don't stay out too late playing your naughty games, will you? I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she got back in the car and they drove off, leaving me there. I just stared after their receding taillights in disbelief, wondering how I had got myself into this mess. The spell was broken when I heard the sound of another car engine approaching from the other direction and, in a blind panic, looked for somewhere to hide.

It turned out that the only place I could see in the few seconds available before their headlights swept around the corner and lit me up like a deer was the ditch beside the road, and I threw myself into it without a moment's hesitation. Unfortunately I found that there was a small, muddy stream at the bottom, and I was now lying in it. I waited until the car had raced past before climbing out, dripping water and covered in slimy, stinking mud. Great start, I thought.

With my hands cuffed, my mouth gagged, my feet bare, and my breasts swinging free, there was no way I could run home, and it became a slow uphill slog with occasional diversions into the undergrowth to avoid detection. All in all it must've taken me about an hour, by which time it was completely dark and getting rather chilly, given that I was wearing no clothes.

Finally, I arrived home and let myself in. Now all I had to do was get my hands free. I knew I would have to get those nipple clamps off, and the only way I could think of to do that was to hook the chain around the door handle and walk away until the clips pulled free. I knew it was going to hurt, but was still surprised by just how much it stung when those sprung jaws finally gave up their hold on me. I howled in distress until the sensation died down to a dull ache.

I took off the handcuffs and the gag, before collapsing onto the tiled floor of the shower, letting the warm water cascade over me, slowly removing the filth and dried sweat, gradually easing the ache in my muscles. When I'd dried myself, I got something to eat and snuggled up under a duvet on the sofa to watch some mindless TV.

As I did so, I noticed a DVD case on the table beside me - 'SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL'. Dafne had even written a note - something to entertain you when I'm not there XXX. I shook my head in disbelief at her presumption, but I also smiled and put the disc into my player.

As I watched the young teacher being caned by the domineering headmistress, and my fingers drifted down between my legs, I couldn't help thinking how similar my situation was to hers. Trapped in the evil clutches of a powerful woman, unable to escape, tortured, forced to satisfy her perverted sexual desires…

I fell asleep on the couch, but not before I had watched the whole movie, with particularly exciting passages in slow motion and freeze-frame, and had climaxed at least three times…