It felt indeed magical. The mesh of wires transported the vibrations produced by the magic wand to every curve and crevice of her inner labia, multiplying the sensations. She came harder and faster than never before. As good as the cock of a gentle lover could feel, couldn't be better than that. She wouldn't know anyways, she couldn't compare.

Three were her options. Try to break the mesh, with the risk of angering the idol. Accept the mesh, and try to be happy, hoping that her wish would be granted. Or just wait. She chose the third one.

She got naked and looked at her reflection on the bathroom mirror. She was hot. All those years dancing had given her a healthy body, a great ass, and small firm breasts. Her piercings made her feel sexy. Grabing the rings on her pussy and pulling to the sides she looked at the mesh too. Even that thing made her feel sexy. Any guy who saw it would want to fuck her. Would be like eating the forbidden fruit. Except that nobody was going to see it because they would have questions and she had no rational explanations.

She recalled again that comic she had read so many years ago. It was about a slave in a palace. She danced for the count and his armed guards, forced to entertain them. As both a torture and a mockery, being herself a foreign princess, she had been adorned with many golden piercings, and many tattoos. Then, when she had them all aroused, they took turns raping her. Then she was taken to the dungeon by a couple of men, or even the count himself, where they have some fun torturing her with a whip or cane, and forcing her to do humilliating things like licking their feet. After that they chained her to the walls or floor or put her in a iron cage and left. There, alone, she thought of her lost lover. Their long walks on the beach. Their awesome sex. The comic showed her adopting very erotic postures, masturbating, imagining that her lover was there at the dungeon fucking her like he used to. And the end she died during a failed escape attempt.

That comic made her get interested in BDSM and had read a lot of stuff since, but nothing had impacted her as much. She of course didn't want to be kidnapped, raped, tortured and killed. But she wanted to be like her. Her dancing skills, that could seduce any man. Her beauty. Her body. Her piercings and tattoos. So sexy even in that dungeon, chained, doing lewd postures, with the ghost of her lover giving her an awesome fucking. She wanted to recreate that. Except that she hoped to have a real loving man, not the memory of a dead man.

She had gotten as close to that dream as she could. Her parents had paid her dance classes and her earrings. She herself had paid in secret the rest of the gold ornaments, nipple, navel, clit hood and labial rings. The rest of the slave's features, the hair, the tattoos, the piercings on face and ears, the semy transparent clothes... The sex... All of them had been forbidden. After getting her first job in a grey, boring office, most of those would be impossible. With that mesh blocking the path to her pussy the awesome sex also impossible. But then, maybe, the wish would be granted and she would somehow be happy one day. Maybe a more potent magic wand would magically appear on her suitcase.

The last day of her persian trip had come, two days after the visit to the museum. She couldn't board a plane with all that metal on her so she had a long trip by boat ahead. She could at last get rid of the hijab and tunic.

Differently to the last hotel room, in that last iranian city that she would never forget, the boat had wifi. Upon activating it she received a tsunami of messages from all her closest relatives, plus a couple of friends, congratulating her for something. If it wasn't about suddenly finding a good piece of magical gold in her pussy she didn't know what was all that about. It became clear when she saw a picture of her last lottery ticket accompanied by the words “You are rich, bitch!”. Her bi-curious friend, Pamela, was all the poet. She checked the numbers on the website of the lottery company and she almost fainted. She had won an eight figures amount in €, and very close to the ninth. Pledging in an unknown language to find herself forced into chastity by a jealous, three thousand years old idol turned out to be the best idea she had ever had. If being rich doesn't make you happy, it makes it well damn easier, says the adage, more or less.

When she got to her parent's house there was a huge party waiting for her. All her closest relatives were there, plus a good bunch of people that suddenly claimed to be her friends. He greeted them politely, she politely promised help for the sick and the wounded and she politely said no to those who wanted a more potent motorbike.

The next day she drove to her own home, to start to plan her next step. She would have to invest the money wisely. She would quit her current job, that she hated, with the intention of finding a better one. Eventually, no need to rush it. A new job that she would enjoy, the salary wouldn't be a problem.

Her boss understood perfectly fine her reasons to quit. He would too if he had won the lottery. With that done it was time to find a new house. But not yet. First a trip to the mall. There she entered a clothes shop with a pair of old jeans and a button up shirt and left with a lacy pair of panties, medium heeled sandals, a black vinyl skirt reaching down to midthigh and a bright red strapless crop top one foot wide, plus a good bunch of other items in bags that she put in the trunk of her car. Which reminded her, a new car, but some other day. For the first time in her life, she felt slutty. More so when she looked down and realized that her ringed nipples were pocking through the fabric. To solve the issue she grabbed a white, almost transparent gauze shirt, that was very tight when she buttoned it, but left a bunch of wrinkles that almost dissimulated the pocking nipples.

Going back into the mall she came across a hair salon and she decided to go nuts. She didn't particularly hate her long, fairy tail princess, blonde mane, that her mother was so proud of. She just wanted to try something new. Or rather something old. Like the concubine in the comic, she made the hairdresser cut her locks until they were no longer than two inches, despite her look of horror. Then, to the worker's utter desmay Hannah asked her to shave with a razor the sides and nape.

Then she saw a piercing parlour and decided to go even more nuts. About an hour later, when she left. She had a pair of half inch rings on top of her ears, that her hair would not cover. Instead of the small studs on her earlobes, she had a pair of half an inch rings, followed by a one inch chain, followed by a one inch ring hanging. On the middle of her nose, crossing through her septum, she had a one inch ring. Over her right nostril she had a half an inch ring. From there a thin chain went to the small ring on top of her right ear. All of them in gold. With that she was much closer to her beloved comic slave. She would need tattoos and more piercings to reach perfection, but that was enough for a day. For her parents it was much more than enough.

At last she saw an adult shop and she decided to go very nuts. There she bought four two inch wide leather cuffs for her wrists and ankles. All of them adorned with a fake golden metallic band all around, which made the cuffs almost rigid, a fake golden padlock on one side, and a fake golden D-ring on the other side. From the same set she bought a two inches wide collar adorned in the same manner. As soon as she got in the car she applied the four cuffs and the collar.

Then she spent a few hours going to several real state agencies. The workers on those agencies didn't approve of her attire judging for the looks she was getting, so she just grabbed the catalogs. At lunch time she got into a fast food restaurant and, after paying the order and sitting in a corner, she put the catalogs on the table and started to read. After a while she realized that a couple of teenagers, several meters away, were looking at her legs. Turned out that they had been open all the time. Because of her lack of expertise wearing short skirts she had forgot to close them. Also the tightness of the material had made it ride up a bit. She shrugged her shoulders and left them open anyways.

-Isn't this a surprising coincidence? I mean, it's you, right? You were very different the other day.

-Who...?- She looked up and to her right, wondering who was talking to her. She was shocked when she saw the man from the museum. He wasn't talking in farsi anymore, but in english.- You...

-Glad to meet you again. That attire suits you much better, I must say.- She didn't reply so he changed the subject.- Looking for a new apartment?

-Yeah..., something bigger actually.

-A chalet?

-More like that, yes.

-Well..., I happen to know somebody that knows somebody, that is selling something with a good discount. If what I've heard about the place is true and if you like cuffs as much as it seems, you are in for a big surprise.- She was about to ask but he interrupted her.- No questions, just trust me. Have I ever failed you?

-Fail me? Is that a joke?

-No. Why?

-Well...- She didn't know how to answer without mentioning a pussy blocked by a golden mesh and a magical idol, so she changed the subject.- But we are going in my car.- Bending slightly his back he offered his hand to help her getting up.

The house was in a middle class suburban area. It was three stores high with ten bedrooms and a garage for two cars. It was a bit dirty because it had been empty for the last years. She would have to buy furniture and appliances, which wasn't a problem because she was going to do it anyways. In the front yard there was enough space for a couple more cars. Instead the backyard was huge. It had a swimming pool, a small greenhouse, and a wooden shed, around twenty five meter square, of unknown purpose, plus a big chunk of unused ground. All the property, except the front yard, was surrounded by a surprisingly high wooden wall.

-What about that shed?- Asked Rama, whose name Hannah had asked along the trip.

-Eh..., that's eh..., sort of a stable.- Ther forty years old man stuttered.

-A stable? Of this size? In the backyard? With a half a meter tall staircase and a one meter wide door? With a combination padlock?- Hannah didn't see how was that appropriate for horses.

-Eh, look, the house is so cheap for a reason. My parents had, like, weird sexual practices.

Hannah felt a tingle in her crotch area and her arousal grew as the man showed them the shed. On one side it had three wooden stalls, small for a horse but big enough for a person, each one with its own padlocked iron barred gate. Each of them had a chain linked to an eyebolt, screwed on the bottom wall, around one meter high. At the end of the chain a heavy metallic cuff, with the appropriate diameter for a person's neck. On the sides and floor more eyebolts would facilitate the use of more chains.

The rest of the shed was filled with a wide array of things. An iron barred cage barely enough for a big dog or a person. An even smaller wooden crate. A pillory. A saint Andrew cross. A cabinet with whips, chains, ropes, dildoes and whatnot. Above their heads, all along the shed, hung a good bunch of chains from a good bunch of eyebolts. Rama was moderately amused. Instead Hannah was sweating profusely imagining all that had happened there and all that could happen in the future.

The man explained that the house was cheaper than its ideal cost because as soon as the clients saw the shed they ran away. Either shame of fear, they didn't want to buy the property.

-I'm buying it. Single payment. Today.- In her aroused state Hannah turned out to be an awesome deal maker. Despite that the amount paid being only three quarters of what was being asked the man happily accepted.

To celebrate the deal Rama invited Hannah to have dinner in a restaurant. She rejected it. That dude seemed to know a lot about what she wanted, and about what she didn't know she wanted. Two advices and two successes in two directions that she would never had suspected. She was sure she had seen him somewhere before. Maybe he was an old schoolmate, as he was more or less her age. Maybe she had mentioned before something about her interest in BDSM related stuff, an interest that had started in her pre-teen years. In any case she felt twice uncomfortable in his company. In part because of his incredible capacity to be there in key moments, but also because he was handsome and hot and she was very horny. In part she was afraid that she would lose her temper and jump over him and rape him, which would likely anger the jealous idol that wanted her to remain chaste. They exchanged phone numbers anyways, because he hadn't done anything particularly wrong, and because she was horny.