I started awake, my entire body suddenly tensing all at once as I came out of the dream, head jerking wildly off the pillow, a brief gasping whine coming through my gag. Not that it availed me all that much, the straightjacket allowing some minor movement while holding me firmly in place. I blinked frantically a few times, my brain trying to catch up to being awake, the vestiges of dreamland fading slowly, provoking shivers as they slipped back beneath the surface. The faces of my would-be abductresses swirled around my head, laughing at me. That time they had won. Spirited me away before Mistress Eliza could reach me, and stashed me in a large dungeon, just one more sub among the dozens there. I shuddered in my bonds, squeezing my eyes shut.
I’m here. I’m back.
My head sank back down onto the pillow, breathing slower now that I was awake. That had not been a pleasant dream. I stared up at the ceiling of the hotel lobby, chewing absently on the sponge ball behind my panel gag. My bedtime bondage hugged me as snugly as it had before I had drifted off to sleep, for which I was grateful. I snuggled down into the bed, tilting my face back towards my Mistress. She was still sleeping, one arm draped over my stomach, the other ensconced under my pillowed head. A small smile seemed to light up her face, even while she slept.
God, she’s beautiful
The thought sprung unbidden into my head and, even though she was quite fast asleep, I felt the traitorous flush tinge my cheeks. But hell, I couldn’t help it. I certainly couldn’t tell myself I was still being held captive completely against my will anymore.
I remembered all manner of thoughts and impulses rushing through me as she had slowly settled down into the frothing bath. A small part of me, much smaller than I would have thought, had been screaming for me to finally make a break for it. Get out into the hall and away to freedom. Escape this devious woman who had captured and enslaved me for…well for a while now certainly.
But I hadn’t. I hadn’t run, hadn’t even wanted to run. Not then, and not now. Not after she had charged in like an avenging goddess to reclaim him from those girls who had been about to cart me off to parts unknown. God only knows what would have happened then, if they would have ended up hanging on to me, bundling me out of BondCon as their new joint slave. Never to see Mistress Eliza again. I shivered. Hell, maybe I hadn’t wanted to escape for a while now.
So I had taken a step. One trembling, cautious step forward, into the unknown. For what had seemed like an eternity, I wasn’t certain I could take another one, but I managed it somehow. And then…and then her face blossomed into a smile. A real, honest to goodness smile. And that had given me all I needed to cover the distance to the bathtub and clamber inside.
I settled back further into the bed as the memory washed over me, and snugged down into her embrace. As my eyes began to lid heavily I felt, for the first time in a while, at peace.
I awoke some time later, the sun streaming in through the now opened curtains. I blinked and grunted, shifting around on the bed. My leg bindings had disappeared, and I took full advantage by giving a mighty stretch.
“Ggggaaaaaggghhhh.” I groaned into my gag as the muscles slowly unwound themselves. Man that felt good.
“Well, look who’s up.” I looked over to see Mistress Eliza rising from where she had been storing the bottoms of my bondage pajamas. She was wearing a light little robe, loosely belted. Her hair partly drawn back in a messy ponytail, leaving a few strands trailing around her face. And a particularly smug little glint in her eyes as they roved over me. Just…gorgeous.
“Mmmph!” I flailed my legs around a bit to gain some purchase and then attempted to bury my head into the pillows.
“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly feeling bashful this morning slave.” She said, amused exasperation evident in her voice as she rose from the end of the bed. She settled down on the bed next to me, stroking the inside of my leg, her smug smile widening just a smidge, as I moaned at her touch. She ran her fingers lightly up and down my leg. Over and over. Watching me squirm, and blush, and moan. When her fingers oh so innocently brushed across my chastity cage, my moans became downright plaintive.
“Goodness, already raring to go again? Too bad for you Davey.”
I mustered my best puppy dogged eye look I could.
She laughed, seeming even more confident in herself if that was possible, and gave my cheek a gentle stroke, “Nice try you. But rules are rules, even if last night I did make an allowance for you.” She tapped the cage, “All mine.”
I blushed and warbled into my gag a bit.
She grinned and leaned in, hooking a finger through my collar’s D-ring, lifting me slightly up from my pillowy retreat, “Mine.”
God that cage hurt like hell.
“Mmmph!”
Her grin widened and she brushed a kiss across my forehead, “There’s my boy. Now, it’s up time Davey. Can’t have you lazing away in bed. There’s breakfast to be had.” She hauled me upright by my collar.
Her point was underlined by a knock at the door. She looked down at me, “Well?”
I looked at her, and then down at myself. Chastity cage, straightjacket, gag, and collar. Such was my clothing status. I looked back at her warily, “mmph?”
“I’m hardly going to answer the door when I’ve got you, am I?” She cocked an eyebrow at me.
I made a face, though the severity was somewhat undercut by my state of dress, the gag that took up most of my face, and her giggling response. “C’mon,” she pulled me to my feet and then gave my rear a swat, “Be about your slave duties little one.”
“Mmmph!” I staggered forward a bit, my arms flexing inside my prison, and then cautiously exited the bedroom towards the outside door. Behind me I heard my Mistress continue to move around the bedroom. My thoughts however, were skittering around my head as I approached the door. What the hell was I going to say to whoever was on the other side?
I eyed the door as I came up to it. Well then.
Squeezing my eyes closed for a moment I leaned down to put my straightjacket locked elbow onto the door handle and then put my weight on it to drag it down and open.
“Hi there!”
Two maids stood out in the hallway, one a dark brunette, the other sporting reddish-blonde curls. Both were dressed in matching French maid outfits. Brown Hair was carrying a small covered tray, while Red was packing a small little clean up kit. Both were wearing BondCon collars and matching wrist restraints. Both were also wearing knowing smiles as they took in my restrained state.
“Is your Mistress home?” Brown Hair asked, in that friendly tone one would use with a child.
I flushed scarlet and nodded my head towards the bedroom, edging out of the doorway. Both maids breezed inside, and made their way towards the main area which fronted the bedroom. I trailed behind them, having shut the door. I watched the maids set their various items down on the coffee table in front of one of the couches, then turn to curtsy as Mistress Eliza walked into the room.
“Good morning Mistress. How might we assist you today?”
With a few crisp commands she sent them scurrying into the bedroom to begin their cleaning duties. She then swept towards me, hooking a finger through my collar and pulling me with effortless dominance over to the couch. She sat down, pulling me onto my knees. Her smug grin never leaving her face as she daintily raised the cover off the tray, to reveal a small selection of fruit, toast, and a few strips of bacon.
My stomach gave an almighty growl as I saw the food, and Mistress gave me a look.
“Goodness Slave. Is someone a little hungry?”
I nodded, eyeing the bacon.
“Alright then,” She leaned in to me, her robe dropping fetchingly open, and unbuckled my gag. For a brief moment food was driven out of my mind as my eyes darted downwards.
“Eh-hem.” I looked up at her, all wide eyed innocence. She shook her head indulgently, and then pointed down, “You know what to do.”
I shimmied backwards and ducked down, planting playful little kisses up and down the tops of her feet. She clucked in approval, and then I felt the unmistakable sensation of a crop tracing its way along my back.
“Up.”
I raised myself back up. She was smiling at me, a crispy strip of bacon dangling from her fingers. She jerked it up and down a little bit, and I couldn’t help but give a plaintive little groan as I followed it with my eyes. Up and down, side to side.
“Please Mistress,” I gave a little whine.
“What will you give me for your breakfast Davey?”
“Umm…I could…I could kiss your feet?”
“You’re already doing that this morning slave.” Her other hand stroked my cheek, “Come now, use that brain of yours. Something inventive.”
I shifted around in my straightjacket pajamas, racking my brain for something. Something inventive. Something preferably not to do with that crop that she was currently wielding. Something she would like…Something…
My eyes refocused on her, “I…”
She raised an eyebrow at me, “Yes, slave?”
I flushed a little, “Would you, maybe, be ok with me doing a little dance?”
She grinned, her eyes sparkling, “Oh I think that would be acceptable little one.” She grasped my shoulders to help me to my feet, and then settled back into the couch, “Dance away, Davey.”
I straightened up and gave my shoulders a few rolls forward and backward within my bondage. I began swaying gently from side to side, eyes squeezed shut initially. As I began to add some little steps into the routine I cracked my eyes open.
She had leaned back into the couch, arms out on either side, her feet crossed in front of her. The grin had transformed into a full smile now, just dripping with smug delight at my little performance. I kept going for a few minutes, adding little steps here and there, managing to not drop my eyes from hers. Lost in them, they seemed to me the warmest I had ever seen them. I gave her a small smile, and then gave a little twirl. And promptly lost my balance.
“Ooof!” I managed to catch myself from a full face plant, but my ass would be feeling that.
My face went fully crimson as Mistress Eliza let a giggle slip out, before regressing to silent chuckling.
“Oh Davey, that performance was definitely you.” She helped me back up to my knees, “Definitely you. We’ll have to work on that technique though. Perhaps I’ll make you my little dancing slaveboy when we get back home.”
I opened my mouth to respond, and suddenly found it full of bacon. I crunched away happily on it, as Red Hair maid came bustling back into the room, her arms filled with the sheets from last night. She dumped the bedding near the door and then, with another brief curtsy to Mistress Eliza, went into the bathroom to begin tidying up there. Brown Hair followed her out of the bedroom soon enough, coming over to stand with arms clasped respectfully in front, on the other side of the coffee table.
“Mistress, apart from finishing the cleaning of the space, would you need anything else from us today?” She glanced over at me, her gaze sympathetic, “The organizers wanted me to extend their heartfelt apologies for what happened yesterday. Those…girls…will be punished in accordance with your wishes, but should you be interested in acquiring any services, equipment, or facilities for the remainder of your time here, please let me know.”
Mistress Eliza nodded in acknowledgement, absently popping a couple grapes into her mouth and then into mine. She settled a proprietary hand on my head as I munched away at my breakfast, “Please pass along my thanks. Nothing springs to mind at the moment, but we have a full day ahead of us, so I’m certain something will come up.”
The maid curtsied again and then scurried off to help her companion finish up in the bathroom. Mistress Eliza went back to feeding the both of us, after every bite I would have to find a new spot to plant a kiss. After my first ten grapes I had to start getting inventive. After about half of the assorted fruits, toast, and bacon had been gone through, the two maids had completed their cleaning duties. They came out, picking up the bedding, and the remains of our breakfast.
I rested my head on my Mistress’ lap as the two ladies curtsied their goodbyes. She stroked my head absently, “Well slave, I think we should take advantage of that offer, hmm?”
I snuggled my head into her lap, “Can’t we just stay here Mistress?”
“What? And miss out on your first BondCon?” She shook her head in mock horror, “I won’t hear of such a thing. Come now, let’s get you ready for the day.” With a few quick movements she unbuckled and unlocked the straps containing me within the straightjacket, “I’ll just leave you to struggle out of the rest of that.”
I struggled to my feet as she rose from the couch. I watched, a little bemused, as she almost seemed to skip into the bedroom, out of sight. I felt warmth in my chest. Did I mean that much to her? My staying here willingly? Enough to make anyone feel a little full of themselves, someone else wanting them so badly. I turned back from the bedroom opening and began tugging at my restraints. The sleeves of the straightjacket had ben loosened enough that I was able to wrestle them out from behind my back. As I wrestled with the remaining bonds, I wandered towards the bedroom, wondering what this new day would bring.
This time the theme for the day appeared to be red for me. A full body red rubber catsuit, with matching boots. Crisp white rope secured my arms behind my back in an eminently comfortable box-tie, as well as a rather intricate web of ropes around my torso. I gloried in the sensation of her wrapping line after line of rope around me, letting out the occasional grunt as she tightened my bondage. By the end of it we were both a little out of breath.
She stood in front of me, one hand gripping my rope harness, keeping me rooted in place. Though in truth the look she was giving me would have kept me stock still anyway.
“How’s that cage feeling slave?” She chuckled
I groaned, “Not…not the greatest Mistress.”
She tutted, “That’s hardly the upbeat, positive attitude I expect from you.” Her other hand found its way down and squeezed.
I drew a ragged breath, “I…please…Mis…Mistress…don’t…”
She kept her hand down there, but leaned in and locked her lips to mine in a powerful, hungry kiss. I took a half step backwards at the force from it. God it was…really something else.
After…well I don’t quite know how long, we finally broke apart. My breathing was, if anything, even more ragged, “Ah…I…wow…”
“Mmmm,” She clamped a hand over my mouth, “I think it’s about time we did something about that mouth of yours.”
I found myself smiling a little under her hand at the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned gagging me. She spun me around to face the bed. A pile of bondage gear had been dumped out in the quest for the red boots that I now wore.
“Would you like to pick your silencer for today slave?”
Her hand came away from my mouth, but before I could even speak she suddenly clamped it back down, “Now, what were the chances that you were about to try to score more brownie points by just happening to pick my favourite gag again, hmm?”
I blinked my eyes, trying to do my best Bambi impression.
“Mmmpphh!”
She shook her head in mock exasperation, “Tsk tsk slave. I can’t be making it too easy for you. Let’s see now…”
She retrieved a red ball gag from the pile and quickly fastened it into place. It was quickly followed by a red Gwen hood, leaving my eyes and nose free. Cuffs were fastened, and locked, around my ankles, a generous amount of chain in between them. A white leather collar was the final piece, snugged firmly into place, and locked.
She dangled the key in front of me for a moment, and then slowly draped its chain around her neck, the key nestling down just at the top of her cleavage, “There you are slave. Your key can stay right there. Nice and safe.”
I moaned. She laughed.
Then she snapped her leash to my collar, and it was time to greet the world once again.
As we walked out onto the convention floor once more, I could sense a slight difference in the way that some people were looking at the two of us. And there were some who were looking. Not many, but I noticed a few glances our way. By the way that those who did give the glances were careful not to give a hint that they had touched me, it was clear that what had happened yesterday had spread around a little.
I eyed the back of my Mistress’ head, and smirked a little behind my gag. Yesterday had been downright terrifying, but her badass rescue of me was…well pretty awesome.
We wandered around, seemingly with little real objective in mind. Most of the venders were the same ones we had seen in our initial foray into the convention yesterday, before being sidetracked by my abortive abduction. We came abreast of the kidnap demonstration station from yesterday. The domme from last time was there again, teaching a fresh batch of recruits how to snatch and bind the object of their desires. It seemed the girl from yesterday hadn’t taken her loss too well. She was once again hogtied, and in the corner, the same gag and collar combo from yesterday firmly locked in place. I wondered absently how long the domme would be keeping her for this time.
We stopped in front of a stall just a few dozen paces on from the kidnap one. A girl, whose head appeared to be completely enveloped in latex, was grooving around beside a stall, her hands cuffed behind her back. A young fellow suddenly appeared beside Mistress Eliza, and the two of them fell to talking.
“I love her pigtails,” She said with a grin.
The girl made an adorable little squeaking noise, and shook her head, making the 2 long black pigtails poking out of the top wiggle, the dye meaning that fluorescent pink tips flashed in the light.
“So, how many layers?” He asked with a grin.
“I’m sorry?” She looked at him, blinking slightly. I cocked my head and tried to peer over her shoulder.
“How many layers of gag do you think?” He asked again, pointing to the sign that sat leaning against the calves of the girl.
The sign at her feet said; “Guess the gag layers, £5 per turn.” I could see from the way she cocked her head and leaned in a bit that she was now thoroughly engrossed in her analysis.
“Can I touch?” She asked after a moment.
“Sure,” the Stallholder said cheerily. “Want me to hold your slave?”
“No worries, he’ll behave,” She assured him, attaching my lead to my belt without looking back. “So, is this beauty yours?”
Mistress Eliza moved away from me, walking forwards and put a hand carefully on the girl’s shoulder to steady her before gently stroking her face, feeling the stiffness of multiple crushing layers fighting against the expanding padding in her mouth. She squeaked again as my Mistress touched her, almost nuzzling into her. I grunted into my gag a bit, but nonetheless listened as the Stallholder responded.
“Keiko? No, she’s just a complete gag junkie,” the Stallholder said with a grin. “We were flatmates at Uni and the girl would just never shut up. She was always on her phone or talking to friends or humming to herself, and she even sleep-talks, so there was absolutely no break in a house with paper-thin walls. In the middle of writing my dissertation, I lost it and taped her mouth shut. But she kept talking through the tape, at which point the rest of the housemates joined in and she got very thoroughly gagged.”
I snorted, and saw Mistress grinning as well. She continued to gently probe the girl’s face.
“Looks like she didn’t learn her lesson,” She remarked.
The stallholder looked at her ruefully.
“She got louder. It took us longer than it should have to realise that she was doing it on purpose to get us to gag her, because apparently gagging herself is no fun,” He rolled his eyes. “So when I told her I was coming to BondCon, she virtually threw herself into the van on top of my gear.”
Mistress Eliza grinned and copped a casual feel of her butt, hearing her give another happy squeak.
“So, how many layers?” the stallholder asked again.
She seemed to mull it over.
“Including padding?”
“Including padding.”
She bit her lip, then looked slyly over at me.
“What do you think hunny?”
I jerked my head towards her, and then back towards the girl, feeling a slight well of panic.
“How many layers?” She asked, grinning, “If you manage to guess closest to the correct number, I’ll actually let you pick your gag for tomorrow. But, if my guess is closer, then I’m going to use the same number of layers on her, on you.”
I hesitated, swallowing hard. Looking at this girl that did not seem like a pleasant experience, no matter how many happy squeaks and grunts she made. I took a step closer, peering closely at her. God sakes there were so many layers seemingly just wrapped around her head, never mind how much packing they had stuffed in the poor girls mouth. But…maybe that was just an effect of the hood? There’s no way there could be more than…let’s see…
I stepped back from the girl. Mistress Eliza raised an eyebrow as I grunted. I turned around and flashed five fingers at her and the Stallholder.
“You reckon five layers?” She asked. I nodded. No way in hell there could be too many more than that.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a crisp ten, “Put it down as Slave Davey says five, and…”
She gave the hooded girl another penetrating look, “I’ll say nine, no, sod it, I like round numbers. Ten it is.”
The stallholder plucked the note from her hand and wrote down our guesses.
“Well, we’ll be unwrapping her at 6 if you happen to be passing by.”
Mistress Eliza paused, checking her watch,
“You’re going to leave her gagged like that all day?”
“She loves it,” the stallholder assured her. “Don’t worry, we take her safety very carefully, she was well hydrated before we put her in, and we have a nose tube if we need to use it. We also have an agreed signal for if she wants out early. Trust me, she usually moans that we’ve taken her out too early than if we take her out too late.” He shook his head with a chuckle.
Keiko nodded happily.
Mistress Eliza shrugged and then unsnapped my leash from her belt. With a little tug, and swift smile sent my way, we were off again.
“Oh wow.” Mistress Eliza suddenly made a sharp 90 degree turn, catching me a little off guard, and nearly off balance. I stumbled along in her wake, looking past her. My eyes widened.
A small kiosk had been set up, a little off the beaten path. A large sign above it advertised the space as a SUB WAITING AREA, with a smaller one below it advising patrons to TRY OUT OUR DEVICES. My eyes were immediately drawn to one such device arrayed along the side of the kiosk.
A young man was strapped down on his back to a raised oval platform. His legs secured in a frogtie, were further strapped down to the platform itself, his arms were secured at the wrist and elbow to the sides of the platform. From the shape of his latex shorts I guessed he was in chastity, hell what submissive here wasn’t?
But dangling above him from a curved, delicate looking metal pole, was a small block of ice. I squinted a little. It looked like a key was trapped inside. And the poor boy was thrusting himself, vainly, desperately upwards, to touch a fraction of the ice with his tongue. I goggled at the sight. He was trying to free himself. By licking through a solid chunk of ice to reach his keys.
His efforts were further complicated by a young lady a few years his senior, who had draped herself beside him. She was in the process of running her fingers up and down his chest and inner thighs, making his desperate efforts to lick the ice all the more frantic. I averted my eyes as he let out a whining moan, and saw Mistress Eliza staring at me. And grinning.
“Hmmph mmm!”
She chuckled and gave the leash a little yank to pull me over to where a few more of the infernal devices were situated, each with a writhing, bleating slave. There seemed to be a few girls covering off the occupied devices, ensuring that the occupants were never left to their own devices for too long. Mistress Eliza looked down at the nearest one, a girl in a candycane stripped catsuit, and pursed her lips.
“I think this would be good for you Davey.”
“Mmmmmrrrgghh.” I groaned, shaking my torso.
She looked up, her smile back, “Oh come now little one. I’ve got to expand my options to keep you occupied around the house. And, if I want to perhaps have you nearby while I’m working,” she cupped my chin with her hand, and her grin became positively devilish, “I wouldn’t want you to be bored, would I?”
I looked down again at the young lady below us as she moaned, her tongue frantically lubricating the bottom of her ice block. God, just imagining me in that thing. Strapped in, probably with the plug buzzing away. And her, lounging in front of her computer, perhaps listening to some business proposal drone on as she gazed at me. Perhaps agitating me with a single outstretched toe, biting at her lip as she did so. And I…I would not have a clue. Strapped down, with my usual bondage hood that I wore in her office totally cutting me off from the outside world, and a solid gag preventing anything but the smallest of moans from emerging.
It was horrible. It was exquisite. It was…going to happen to me. I could see it in her shining eyes. I moaned. The mental picture I had painted suddenly made my cage feel excruciatingly tight.
“Gmmmappphhhh!” I wasn’t quite sure whether I was objecting or not, though of course it made little difference.
Mistress Eliza grinned and firmly grabbed my ass, “That’s the spirit Davey.” She signalled the woman who was running the stall over.
The woman came strolling over, pausing at a few of the writhing forms to adjust their bondage, or in some cases their teasing vibrators. Just another professional, tending to her charges. I shivered a little as a small part of me silently, secretly, wanted to trade places with one of the struggling slaves. I looked down at the woman below me, as she arched her back once more, lunging upwards for the ice. She managed a handful of tiny licks before collapsing back downwards, panting in frustration. I faintly heard the soft buzz of whatever toy was teasing her.
“Hello Mistress, here to drop off your slave?” The lady gave me a quick up and down look, sizing me up, “I think we should be able to fit him in.”
“Actually looking for a take home version.” Mistress Eliza gestured at the devices, “They look like just the thing to keep my boy busy and in one spot.”
“Oh that they are,” the woman smiled, “I have a fairly modular set up for them, so plenty of customization is available, and it can lean towards teasing, punishment, or both…”
Both of them turned to look at me. With wide eyes I gave a strangled, “Mmmph?”
Mistress Eliza chuckled, “Excellent. He’s looking forward to it.” She gave my rear another squeeze.
“I’ll just nip into the back and get you the catalogue then. What was your name?”
“Mistress Eliza. And Slave Davey.”
The woman nodded and strode to the back, where a small partition separated what I assumed was a storage area from her common area filled with moaning, squirming slaves. Mistress Eliza leaned up against the counter and, with a sultry look at me, pointed at the ground near her feet. I slowly sank to my knees, my eyes staying fixed on hers all the way down, little crinkles around them from my hidden smile. I was feeling so…I dunno, at peace I guess. I rested my head against her leg, and was rewarded with the gentle stroking of her hand across my hooded head.
“That’s my good boy.”
I made a few happy little grunting noises, and nuzzled closer to her leg.
“Ah! Just who I was looking for!”
I jerked around a little at the voice, but Mistress Eliza’s hand didn’t move and the leash jerked my head back to her leg.
Mistress Caitlin had emerged from the throngs of passersby. Once again looking absolutely stunning, in a deep blue latex dress that gave a teasing hint of cleavage, with similar coloured latex forearm coverings linked to her hands. From where I knelt she seemed to tower over me, even more so with the high heels she wore. Her hair was drawn back in an intricate braid that framed her face. Stunning. And a little terrifying. I surreptitiously scooted a little closer to Mistress Eliza.
Jem was walking behind her, though he had gone through a much more severe wardrobe change. Gone was his rather minimalist clothing. Heavy leather and rubber completely enfolded him from neck down past his knee height high heeled boots. His upper arms were locked with bands of leather to his chest, with his nipples peeking out from small holes in the otherwise impenetrable suit. His hands were confined within a heavy duty looking pair of bondage mitts which were themselves locked to a belt around his waist, and finally, his head was completely enclosed in a leather bondage hood. From the way his legs were shivering, his plug was on, and not on low.
“Cat,” Mistress Eliza smiled, “You do seem to be popping up everywhere we go.” She continued stroking my head absently while the other Domme came to a halt in front of her.
“A happy coincidence in this case,” Caitlin stated matter-a-factly, “Today’s been a bit heavier than yesterday in terms of incidents and, in an effort to keep our three stars on every night, I’m administering a half dozen Punishments in a bit to free up the evening. And, Laura here has been kind enough to take care of Jem for a few hours.”
I looked up at her, feeling a small shudder work its way down my spine as she glanced at me. A passing look, with little more consideration than one would give a puppy that one intended to train. Mistress Eliza’s hand returned to the top of my head, resting there with a firm, wordless, declaration of ownership.
“Well from what I’ve seen he’ll certainly be kept…active.” Mistress Eliza’s voice drew Caitlin’s gaze back up.
Caitlin’s mouth quirked in a small smile, “Oh I’ve no doubt of that. One or two of these lovely devices will be making their way into my dungeons as the renos kick off.”
I thought I detected the faintest of moans emerge from the otherwise stoic James at that. The briefest of frowns crossed Caitlin’s face. She made a minute adjustment to a device, with which I was all too familiar, and James suddenly made a definite groan into his gag, his legs appreciably shaking for a moment before he mastered himself. My own plug, thankfully, remained at its comforting ‘Near Mistress’ mode.
The woman running the stall, Laura, returned at that moment with a glossy looking catalog filled with her merchandise. Mistress Eliza accepted it with a murmur of thanks, and began to idly flip through it, I craned my head upwards, but all I saw was the front cover which depicted the torturous ice device that I already saw all around me.
“Ah, Mistress Caitlin, so good to see you!” Laura came bustling around and gave the fearsome domme a hug. Like one would give to a normal person, not the force of nature she appeared to be.
“And you,” Another smile from Caitlin, this one warmer. She flicked James’ leash and the unfortunate slave stumbled forward and painfully lowered himself to his knees. Staring sightlessly ahead. Probably straining to hear whatever was going on, while desperately trying to prevent himself from making the slightest noise. Remembering some of my own sessions with Mistress Eliza, particularly in some of her more…inventively playful moods, I could well imagine his state of mind.
“And this must be your Jem, eh?” Laura, hands on hips, stepped forward to inspect him, “Your normal package?”
Caitlin nodded, “Strict isolation. His hood is not to come off. I’ve set his various devices to a pre-set program, so as long as you check in on him now and then, he shouldn’t be too much trouble.” She handed James’ leash over to Laura, “I do appreciate your hospitality.”
“Not at all!” Laura bubbled, a grin blossoming over her face. So much so I almost found myself smiling at her from where I knelt. She swiftly tugged James up to his feet and then away to the back, the alternating whine of his plug quite audible as he passed me by. God that must be really going at him.
“So…” Mistress Eliza carefully saved where she had been reading and flipped the catalogue partly closed, “You were looking for me?”
Caitlin nodded briskly, “I have another favour to ask, I know!” She waved her hand, with a sharp grin, “So many favours. But, seeing you with your own acquisition made you a logical choice.”
“Ah.”
“I’ve ended up with some post-convention work.” She gave a languid grin, and gave her shoulders an experimental roll backwards, “Plus BondCon has put me in charge of the…expulsion…of your trio of thieves.”
I could feel through Mistress Eliza’s hand the sudden stiffness at the mention of my failed kidnappers. I pressed my head into her leg firmly, letting her know that I was right there, and gave a soft “Mmpph.”
Her hand unstiffened and began to stroke my head again, “They aren’t being expelled early are they?”
Caitlin laughed, “Oh God no. No, no, they will be here with me for the entirety of BondCon. The organizers, when they got the full story, were rather put out that such an attempt would be made, and on a Platinum no less. They’ve requested that I provide a little post-Convention training to underline the unacceptableness of their actions to them.”
“All three at once?”
“I’ll decide who still requires it at the end of BondCon. Anyway, my facilities are likely to be a mite crowded, so I was wondering if I might leave Jem with you for a time?”
“Oh.” Eliza looked down at me for a moment, considering. I looked up, a little wide-eyed. I really wasn’t sure about all this. I mean, another slave in the house? I suddenly found a surprising little sprout of something that almost smacked of jealousy. I didn’t want to share my Mistress. Not at home. I gave my head a little shake and a soft “Hhppmh.” James was hardly her slave. She as basically being asked to babysit. Get a grip, man!
“I think that would be alright, depending on how long he’d be staying.”
“Excellent!” Caitlin smiled again, “If you’re not really set up to transport multiple slaves around, I can swing him by after BondCon. My van fits a few.”
Eliza smiled in response, “Oh I’m sure, and that would be fine. I don’t quite have the mobile dungeon you do.”
“It really does make things easier dear.” Caitlin said absently, looking beyond the two of us to where James was now being rolled out, utterly secured, to his own platform, an iced key dangling above him.
“Well it is an idea,” Eliza said, shooting me a sly grin. I flushed a little in response, just imagining her driving me around completely strapped, maybe even suspended in the rear of the van in some weird bondage crash harness that anchored me to the ceiling and walls. I shivered a little and moaned.
“Anyway, I do appreciate your help. While you are out and about you should swing by Sinner’s Row! It’s well stocked at this point with miscreants. I’ll see you around!” And with that, Caitlin waved a goodbye and strode off to her Punishment session. Her dress flaring around her as she moved, and the sheer presence she exuded clearing a path.
I felt Mistress Eliza’s hands on my arm, and suddenly I was being hauled up back to my feet. I steadied myself for a moment.
“What do you think of this one?” She had flipped the catalogue back open. It was…a rather involved version of the platforms that I saw close by. And it also offered six distinct customization packages depending on…training requirements. I moaned as I read the specifications. God save me this was going to be torturous.
I moaned again as I saw her eyes light up and sparkle, “Well I think that settles it.” She turned back to Laura, who had reappeared, “I believe this one will be suitable for him.”
“An excellent choice. Definitely the most versatile one when it comes to various experiences.” Laura made a careful mark in a small notebook kept on the counter.
Bidding her goodbye, Mistress Eliza gave a playful yank on my leash that brought me staggering into her embrace. She brushed a soft kiss across my gagged lips, and then, giggling at my answering moan of desire, disentangled herself and headed off back into the crowd, with me in tow. From up ahead she began to hum to herself, just loud enough that I could half make out the tune. I felt my lips twitch around my gag at that; she was really happy I had stayed.
SINNER’S ROW
The banner proclaimed the special space proudly, tucked away from the immediate entrance, but close enough to the main concourse that plenty of people would see it. See it and wander over to take a look at the poor souls who had dared to flout the Convention Rules. As we walked under the banner, my eyes wide, I looked around.
Arrayed along the sides of the initial pathway into the Row, were a succession of stocks. About two thirds of them were occupied, by a fairly even mix of men and woman, leaning slightly towards males. Each occupied stock had a small table set up in front of it, with a small selection of implements to tease and torment them. Standing next to the first few that we neared in our walk were several BondCon maids, holding trays filled with small dishes of various squishy fruits and pies. A few eager convention guests were already hard at work tossing fruit, pies, and anything else that the BondCon maids provided at the bound and gagged riffraff.
We paused in front of one, an early thirties looking fellow in the stocks, and a mousy looking girl who nonetheless was almost vibrating in enthusiasm. A small sign hanging from the stocks simply said: HANDSY
“Hi!” She squeaked, “Would you care to assist in this villain’s punishment Mistress?”
Mistress Eliza gave the poor fellow a considering eye, before smiling and then carefully picking up one of the whipped cream pies that the girl held, “Any particular place?”
“We ask that you try to keep it in and around the head Mistress,” the girl giggled, “Makes my job a little easier when I’m taking him down.”
Eliza nodded, and clipped my leash to her belt once again. Then she sidled up to the guy, grinning as he desperately tried to keep her in view. But the stocks held firm, and there was only so much give in them. I could see his legs straining against the irons that kept him locked to the floor, but it was all for naught. She reached him, scooting up right next to him so that all he could see was the pie which she held in front of and above his head like the Sword of Damocles. She looked up at me, her grin widening into one of her incredibly sensual smiles.
She winked. I blushed.
Then she slowly upended the pie onto the man’s head, gently pressing it down to run all over his skull.
He moaned deeply into his gag, his bucking finally growing still. She leaned over and traced a few lines of cream down his slackening face. She giggled as he moaned again, and then suddenly sprang back from him.
“Thank you,” she said towards the maid, “That was quite enjoyable.”
The maid herself was wearing a broad grin. She stepped forward, cupping the poor fellow’s chin to direct his eyes up towards Mistress Eliza, “Thank you Mistress. I’d say that’s his most enjoyable experience yet. Say thank you, slave.”
“Mffhhan oooooo.” She gave him a few swats on his rear, giggling again as the guy yelled into his gag.
We walked onwards, pausing at the next pair of stocks. This one was a woman, older than me by perhaps a year or two. Certainly still quite young, especially for the sign next to her which declared: ROUGH-HOUSING.
Mistress Eliza cocked an eyebrow at the girl who gave her a tired snarl through her gag.
Then she looked back at me, considering.
“Would you like to pie this one, Davey?”
I looked at her. Then down at my still heavily roped up torso.
“Hmmmph?!”
“I didn’t ask you if your hands were free, I asked you if you want to pie this young woman?”
I looked at the lady in the stocks. My tormentors from yesterday were probably somewhere around here. If this woman was in their company, then she must have done something. What the hell, I mentally shrugged. And then nodded.
Mistress Eliza grinned at my response, then pulled me closer with the leash, winding it slowly around and around her hand until she suddenly had a grip on the D-ring, “Well then.” She paused, her eyes damn near twinkling at me, “Would you like me to help you?”
I felt my knees weaken a little at her gaze, “Mmmmhmmm.”
“Splendid.” She settled something into one of my hands, “It’s a smaller container slave, but you still need to be careful. Now, I want you to slowly back up and then, when I tell you, dump the pie.”
I nodded, edging carefully backwards, not wanting to topple over in my outfit. And bondage. That would be quite painful. The woman in the stocks was thrashing around as much as she could, snarling curses at me, at Mistress Eliza, and probably anyone else in the vicinity. Ok, now I could believe the sign on her pair of stocks.
I kept my eyes locked on my Mistress, as she looked past me with a half-smile tugging at her lips. Then, “Now.”
I upended the pie, not quite getting the same effect as it softly impacted the side of the girl’s head, spreading the cream all over. She keened into her gag, her head sagging downwards. The mousy maid from before came scampering over and then assisted me in spreading the pie’s remains all over the girl’s head.
“What a good boy you have Mistress!” The maid squeaked, “So well behaved!” She flashed me a shy little smile, to which I blushed.
“Thank you.” Mistress Eliza inclined her head regally, a smug smile planted on her face, “Come along now Davey. Lot’s more to see!”
We proceeded only a little farther on before coming to three dunk tanks arrayed beside each other. Two prisoners, already soaking wet in their latex bondage cocoons, were suspended on small little platforms above the water. A small gaggle of people stood in front, tossing balls at the tiny targets that would send the bound slaves inside plunging down once more. I watched as a third one was frogmarched out of a back room area, wrapped in the same straightjacket and ring gag combo as the other two, and then stashed in her tank. A couple, handcuffed together, both cocked back their free arms at the same moment and let fly. The poor new addition had a brief moment to shriek and then it was down into the drink.
Mistress Eliza giggled as she watched me, but we kept moving past the crowd.
Farther back in Sinner’s Row, arranged along the wall, were five slowly rotating wheels. Each wheel had a St Andrew’s cross sunk into the leather, on each of which hung a writhing, squirming rubberized slave. The slaves were strung out in a spread eagle tie with their wrists and ankles secured in leather straps. A further succession of straps pinned them down along their arms, torso, and legs. They were completely covered in rubber, catsuits and hoods, and as I neared them I could hear the telltale sound of vibrators.
There were only a couple people over by the farthest two slowly spinning wheels. Both of them were casually lobbing foam balls at the struggling forms, laughing as they would twitch and jerk with each impact. Plaintive moans, groans, and the occasional scream drifted on the air conditioned breeze.
“This is one of the ones I wanted to show you Davey.” Mistress Eliza accepted a small basket of foam balls from a nearby BondCon maid with a murmur of thanks, “Want to know how this game is played?”
That tone. I knew that tone. This was that terrifying blend of the playful, torturous, seductress. I eyed her apprehensively, and then looked back at the rotating slave that she had picked out in front of us. That did not look…pleasant. Oh, it looked hot as hell, I mentally told myself. But I did not want to end…ah hell. She had strapped me up to one of those damned things plenty of times already. How much worse could this poor sap have it?
I tilted my head to the side, my only way of indicating I was curious, and blinked at her.
“Each one of these ne’er do wells suits is rigged up with sensors.”
My heart began to rapidly sink as the word sensors rolled off her tongue. This would not end up well for me. I checked myself from heaving a little sigh, but she spotted my sudden reluctance. And giggled.
Damn her and her devious cuteness.
“Those sensors are rigged to sense impact. When they do…” She picked a ball and lobbed it towards the slave in front of us. It smacked him softly on the leg. A slight enough impact but the boy’s entire body suddenly locked up with a faint buzzing sound, followed by a louder drone announcing vibrators kicking in. Then he began thrashing. Furiously, and screaming into his gag.
“There are some delicious little electrodes within the suit too. Just a little buzz to get him hyped for the vibrators. Which are, naturally, in the right places.” She winked at me suggestively, making my face go positively beet red.
“I think I may just have to get one of these suits for you Davey.” My eyes went wide. Oh God no please!
“Oh quit your worrying. No electricity for you.” She paused, “Then again…having the option would be nice…”
“Mmmmppphhh!!!”
She chuckled, “Then you’d best be on your most exemplary behaviour Davey boy.” She grinned, “Now why don’t you be a helpful little slaveboy and retrieve my balls while I have some fun here?” She pointed imperiously to the ground.
As I slowly got down onto my knees, and then began to shuffle forward I desperately, desperately clung to the hope that my suit wouldn’t have electrodes. But I knew seeing this boy had given her all manner of fresh ideas for when we got home.
We ended up spending just about the rest of the afternoon there, alternating between the wide variety of humiliation and punishment stations. There were tickling racks, spanking platforms, and all other manner of items designed to correct those who had crossed the BondCon line. Prisoners would be rotated through various stations every couple of hours, so I was eventually able to see the shock suit boy come down. His legs were quite wobbly and he had that dazed, glazed look in his eyes that I recognized from my own trips into subspace. When I saw that I had felt a brief longing to try out that particular station. The look I got from Mistress Eliza told me that I might be getting my chance all too soon upon our return home.
We wandered back out, eventually, stopping by Keiko and her friend. She was sitting down on a stool, the hood that previously covered her head removed, though her hands remained cuffed. She looked thoroughly disappointed that her speech restriction was going to be removed, but held still all the same as the next layer was slowly unwound from around her head. And the next. And the next. I groaned as a ballgag was unbuckled and flung aside to reveal a mouth filled with packing.
I felt my Mistress grip my arm and coo softly, “Oooo Davey…Guess what we are doing…?”
I whimpered into my, now that I thought about it, eminently more comfortable gag. But that wouldn’t help me.
Several more layers were stripped away before Keiko was finally free enough to openly grumble that her friend had, once again, taken her out too soon. He grinned and shook his head in mock exasperation, looking heavenward as if for divine help with his gag junkie friend.
Neither of us had been spot on per se, but she had been far faaaar closer than I had.
I didn’t really feel it had been all that fair. Compared to her I was still very much a bondage neophyte. Not that fairness seemed to be too big a concern for her, the way she took off from the stall, her humming even louder and smugger if that was possible. Time to play.
We headed back up to the room, briefly pausing here and there to see a few new stalls of little consequence that had been set up. The kidnap/capture domme was heading out for the evening, the poor loser girl encased in a pink bitchsuit and scampering behind her. But I paid them little mind once they were past. It was play time.
Back into the elevator we went, rather empty given the early hour. Mistress Eliza shoved me up against the wall, taking full advantage as she groped my ass, and trailed kisses across my gagged lips. I moaned, deeply, as I did my best to return the kisses by giving little bunts with my head. Which was apparently adorable from her giggles.
She led me back into the room, her hands running over me as we reached the living room space. Down onto my knees I went. Out came two leather straps which secured me into a frogtie position.
She smiled down at me, “Now just let me go get into something a touch more…dominant.”
“Mmmmmmmmmmm.” I moaned, staring at her. Could anyone be as sexy as her?
She twirled around and, I kid you not, practically skipped into the bedroom. Skipped. My Mistress. The one who could seemingly become the Bitch Queen of Hell. Skipped. The mind boggles.
I had perhaps a whole minute to consider that before my plug suddenly thrummed onto a higher setting, sending pleasurable waves coursing through me. I moaned even louder, drawing a light laugh from the next room as I began to squirm around. Sooooooo good. Gaaaaah.
I struggled around, but the ropes holding me were just as effective and restrictive as they had been throughout the entire day. The plug pulsed away inside me. And I could do nothing but squirm and wait for Mistress. Gaaah. I closed my eyes and just rode the waves of sensation.
I spent perhaps…well I’m not quite sure how long I was kneeling there honestly. Time’s a funny thing when you’re in my position. It seems like it goes on for forever, but also super quick. And so it was that eventually I heard her sultry tone once more.
“Hey there sexy.”
I cracked one eye open, and then widened both of them. Mistress Eliza stood in the bedroom doorway. Her smart business attire had been at least partially replaced. Her crisp white blouse remained, but she now wore a sexy latex skirt, with a leather belt around her midsection. And her comfortable and sensible pumps had been replaced with knee high black leather boots. She looked like every school boy’s or office worker’s wet dream of what their teacher, or principle, or boss looked like. And she was my Mistress.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” I moaned, staring at her once more. Her grin widened into a smile at my response, and she opened her mouth to respond when a knock reverberated softly through the room.
The smile on her face faltered into an exasperated grimace. She pointed at me, “Don’t you dare loss on ounce of that fire slave. We are not done here.”
I jerked my head in a negative, and she swivelled around towards the door, muttering to herself about being interrupted at the worst possible times with me.
I closed my eyes again to savour the sensation of my plug. I heard the door open. And suddenly a deadly silence seemed to fall.
“You.”
The word was softly spoken but it jerked me out of my contended little moment and back into the room. I craned my head up, looking past Mistress Eliza standing so stiffly by the door, and then stiffened myself. It was her. The Redhead.
She was standing in front of my Mistress, her head slightly bowed. She had a large leather coat that was partially buttoned, and that both arms were wrapped around her body in. Apart from that her feet and legs were bare.
I let out a plaintive little whine upon seeing her. The distance was enough that I wasn’t sure, but I swear my Mistress’ hands tightened on the door in response. Her shoulders were certainly tense enough.
“What in the deepest bowels of hell do you want?” She finally snapped out.
“I…” Redhead looked up at her, “I wanted to apologize. For…everything.”
“There is absolutely nothing you can say to me to make up for what you did. What you did to my boy.”
“I thought you might say that.” Redhead let her arms fall away, and shrugged the leather jacket off. Suddenly revealed, I couldn’t help but let out a surprised grunt.
A bondage harness was locked around her torso, its various straps crisscrossing her chest, surrounding her naked breasts, and all buckled snugly in the back. I could faintly see that top outline of her chastity belt that was still securely in place. And around her slim neck was a black collar, locked in place. Gone was the arrogant, callow domme from her attempted kidnapping of me. In her place stood a rather abashed, youthful, slave girl.
It was enough to strike me momentarily speechless. And it certainly had not been what Mistress Eliza had been expecting either.
“Please,” the girl begged, “I’m…I’m not trying to get out of the Punishment sessions. I’ll take them. Every last one that Mistress Caitlin dishes out. I just…I just want to show you and your slave that I am really, truly sorry for what I did.” Her eyes remained fixed on Mistress Eliza, not even daring to flicker past her at me.
“Please.” She slowly sank down to her knees, bowing her head to the woman she had tried to steal from, and who had thrashed her and her friends to get me back.
There was a long silence then as my Mistress looked at the girl.
Then, Mistress Eliza slowly, ever so slowly, reached out her hand. A finger slid under the girl’s cheek to tilt her head up. I missed whatever passed between them there. Whatever it was I think I was as surprised as Red when Mistress Eliza stepped aside, pointed into the room and commanded, “Crawl.”