Claire wanted to get Alice a special present.

Her best friend had a birthday rapidly approaching, and Claire had been trying to figure out what she would enjoy having, and that Claire would enjoy getting her. Naturally enough, she settled on easing her chore burden by getting her a maid. Of course, it had to be a special maid. And a special person.

Sure she could reasonably grab anyone and make them a maid, but where was the fun or challenge in that? Plus, Alice was her best friend. Best friends deserved a cut above, which meant that Claire had to be imaginative and daring.

It meant that she needed a genuine French man or woman to be a French maid. One who wouldn’t mind, or be made to not mind, being kept for a lengthy period of service.

Which also meant that Claire had spent an incredibly frustrating ten days scouring the town for anyone even remotely feasible, with little luck. It had even cut into her normal neighbourhood routines, including her weekend runs, which left her a little frazzled. She felt like she was letting her neighbourhood down. And herself.

Which was also why Claire was sitting slumped down in a chair at the airport, a little pout on her face as she skimmed a novel. Having settled on wanting a genuine French maid, Claire hadn’t been able to conceive of any alternative gift for Alice. And now she was reduced to hoping that some young woman or man would arrive either today or tomorrow. Otherwise she’d hardly have enough time to properly train them up and acclimate them to their new vocation.

A brisk female voice broke over the loudspeaker, announcing the arrival of the next planeload of passengers. Claire scooted up a bit in her seat, eyes turning towards the walkway where her potential playmates would soon unknowingly parade themselves for her. Her eyes flicked over to find her friend and partner in this little endeavor, Pamela. Pamela had been someone who Claire was ever so thankful she had met. Pam worked as security at the airport, and had proven to be a willing and enthusiastic partner whenever Claire needed ‘help’ with certain of her playmates. Whether it was getting them onto their homeward flights or…in this case, getting them out of the airport and on a direct path to her home dungeon. A tall, tough looking, black woman dressed in the crisp fatigues of the airport security organization, Pamela was also a frequent attendee of Alice’s bondage club and often partook of the club’s enslavement policy to take home new playmates for weeks at a time. When Claire had asked her for some help in securing Alice a proper birthday gift, the other domme had agreed immediately and offered her help.

Claire absently began running her eyes over the first few passengers disembarking. Happily enough it was a connecting flight from some European city, so Claire at least had a shot at some young French soon-to-be-toy being on the flight. If she had really had the time, perhaps she would have organized a trip herself to France, and returned with her new plaything in a trunk. For perhaps the thousandth time, Claire promised herself that in the future she wouldn’t leave such important things to the last minute.

Yeah, right.

A small crush of people momentarily blocked her view, and Claire straightened in the chair slightly, before going still. A small predatory smile flitted onto her face as she spotted….yes. Yes. Her candidate. A young man was ambling along the walkway, wavy red hair plastered around his head in an appealing manner, with glasses perched on his nose. Cute. He had a decent build, if with a little extra weight. Claire pursed her lips for a moment, considering. That would be alright. It just meant some extra treadmill time for her newest project to make sure he looked exquisite in the uniform waiting for him. But more importantly for his coming role as a maid, he had an absolutely gorgeous butt. She grinned. God spanking that rump was going to be fun.

Mind made up, Claire subtly turned and signaled Pamela. A small sign sent her friend striding confidently in the direction of the young gentleman that Claire had picked out for bondage slavery.

Pam was always able to convince any prospective playmates that they really did need to follow her for a spot check. Which nicely got them away from crowds of people who just didn’t understand that the cries for help were so much nonsense. Claire had yet to encounter the playmates, man or woman, who wasn’t duly grateful for being snatched and subjugated.

They all got there eventually.

Pamela intercepted the young man with an outstretched hand, even as Claire began quickly packing up her things into the side pockets of the large carryall she had with her. After a brief conversation her friend began steering the young Frenchman away from the main concourse. Claire shook her head with a grin as she padded after the pair of figures. No body ever thought to be suspicious inside an airport. All the little alarms that might otherwise be sounding were silent. Which really made her job a fair bit easier than if she had seen Frenchie on the street. Claire frowned for a moment. She really needed to make more friends on the police force. That bore thinking about.

Up ahead of her, Pamela and Frenchie entered a room, and Claire sped up a little. They had taken a few turns, so the chatter from the concourse was a distant thing. From ahead of her she heard voices beginning to rise, and the unmistakable sound of heavily accented English in the cross tone that only a true blue Frenchman could make, in Claire’s opinion. She had definitely found her candidate.

“…understand why this sort of thing is happening now!” The irritated voice of her Frenchie drifted out of the door, “I did all the security checks on the other side!”

“Airport policy sir,” Pamela’s voice came, calm and controlled. At least that’s how it would seem to anyone who didn’t know her. Claire could hear the anticipation in her voice. “It’s why we’ve come down here, where you can be seen to with a minimum of fuss.”

“A minimum of fuss!?” Claire reached the door and peaked around it for a moment. Pamela stood near a stainless steel table, a professional expression covering her enjoyment of toying with their mutual prey. Claire took a moment to admire her friend’s appearance (uniformed men and women were something of a weakness for her) before she locked back on to the French man. Who, bless his naïve little soul, was standing with his back fully to the door. Hands on his hips even. Claire’s grin turned into a predatory smirk. She couldn’t have asked for a better setup.

Pam saw her ease around the corner and uncrossed her arms with a sigh that didn’t quite obscure her smile, “Yes, a minimum of fuss. If you’ll simply cooperate, we should have you sorted out and on your way in no time.”

“Listen…!” Claire didn’t give the frustrated tourist a second longer to work himself back up to a tirade. She crossed the final few feet in a rush, and seized both of the boy’s hands, snapping a pair of quick release handcuffs onto his wrists. She held him tightly as he tried to flail, struck momentarily speechless at the sudden assault.

“Oh Pamela, would you be a dear and reassure our friend?” Claire cooed in a sweet voice, taking a moment to nip at the boy’s ear, “I need a few moments to prepare.”

“Not a problem,” Pamela strode forward, her strong arms encircling Frenchie and holding him tightly to her, “Hiya sweetheart.”

“What…what the hell do you thimmpgpgh!” His nascent shout was cut off as Pamela gripped his hair in one hand, pulled his head back, and locked her lips to his, kissing him deeply and thoroughly. The doomed boy tried to flail and struggle against Pamela, but the domineering black woman kept him wrapped up in her arms, kissing him passionately.

Claire grinned and left them to it, unzipping the bag which she had brought with her. She carefully drew out several bundles of rope, several clean cloths, a panel gag, a pair of bondage mittens, and a nice leather collar. She approached the pair of them, Frenchie frantically struggling and moaning into the kiss, and Pamela hungrily growling as she French kissed the crap out of their French tourist. Claire dipped her hand into the boy’s pocket, and came out with his passport, wallet, and airline tickets.

“So who do we have here?” Claire asked with a giggle, “Vince? Hmmmm…” She gripped his rump, drawing another deep moan from the boy as he was kissed by Pamela, “Well, I think I’ll just call you Frenchie for right now. Maybe you can earn your name back if you’re very good.”

From the sounds he was making against Pam’s mouth, Claire could only assume he was swearing at her, or some other outraged remarks. She gave him two hard spanks on his rear, and then leaned up to whisper into his ear as he yelped into Pam’s mouth, “That’s one demerit Frenchie. I don’t like my pets using foul language with me.”

Vince tried to respond, but Pam gripped his ass hard, and redoubled her kissing, taking any attention away from Claire. Claire, for her part, was happily humming to herself as she began binding Vince up into his transport kit. First, the bondage mittens were shoved over his hands, wrenched and buckled tightly into place. Making his hands utterly useless for anything apart from flailing around. Claire linked them together with another padlock before she unlocked the handcuffs, getting the cruel metal away from Vince’s flesh. A fresh round of cursing in French burst from Vince as Pam momentarily broke away to catch her breath, Claire tsk’ed and with little ceremony shoved one of the cloths into Vince’s mouth.

“MMmpffgahhhg!!” Vince shouted into the cloth. So Claire shoved another one in.

“mmmmfafg!” Vince’s eyes had gone wide. But he still sounded angry. So Claire forced a third one inside.

“mmmmmm…” Vince’s eyes begged her to stop, and his voice finally sounded like he wasn’t cursing at her, so Claire was happy to oblige. Instead she shook out the leather panel gag and tightly buckled it overtop of Vince’s packed mouth. Another padlock was clicked shut, and just like that the most annoying aspect of Frenchie was removed. He was so much better tightly gagged, Claire mused to herself as she reached out to stroke his bulging jawline.

Vince squealed and babbled into his gag, and Claire hugged him from behind for a moment as Pamela felt up the boy’s chest, “Maybe this will be a little lesson about mouthing off to a pair of beautiful ladies?” Vince struggled against her and Claire backed away for a moment to let Pamela press him firmly down to the table and spank him hard five times.

Vince’s muffled bellows into his gag were soon reduced again to whimpers as Claire crouched slightly to get next to his head, “This is happening Frenchie. Now you can let me work in peace, or I’ll have Pamela turn that nice butt of yours as red as your hair. And then I’ll tie you up anyway. Your call.”

Vince growled at her and Claire giggled, “Oh sweetie you are just perfect.” Pamela spanked him hard a couple more times, making the partially bound boy do his best to jump and struggle against his bonds and Pamela’s strong hold on him. As Vince’s attention was wholly focused on resisting the corporal discipline he was receiving from behind, Claire casually leaned over him and wrapped a leather collar around his neck. Vince’s eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, and his breath came in rapid sucking gasps through his gag. Claire patted him approvingly, “I always appreciate a man who knows what the significance of a collar entails. Yes, my sweet Frenchie, you are going to be the special toy for a special friend of mine.”

Vince moaned into his gag, and Claire gave him a final pat before busying herself with the task of getting him properly roped up to be moved. Given his feistiness Claire had decided against a comfortable boxtie, and instead wrenched his arms up into the small of his back, binding Vince into a strict reverse prayer position. Vince moaned and squirmed as best he could, but Claire confidently tied up him, snug bands of rope looping from his hands over his arms and torso, securing everything snugly in place. Cuffs were locked to his ankles next, with a line of rope in between them preventing Vince from taking more than shuffling steps. Claire then unbundled a wide arc of fabric, and swirled it around Vince’s waist. The fabric acted as a sort of skirt, hiding away the evidence of Vince’s legs in bondage.

Next, Claire produced her Discretion Hoodie, something she used when her pets were bashful enough about public bondage. She forced it over Vince’s head, and his torso, capturing his arms behind him. The hoodie’s arms had been artificially puffed up to simulate someone’s arms being properly in them, and then sewn together in the front pocket. To all the world, it looked normal enough. Only the occupant and Claire would ever know different. Once Claire was happy with the way that the hoodie had settled over Vince’s form, she fitted a surgical mask over Vince’s panel gag, hiding the fetish gear from sight. After that the hood came up, and helped further disguise anything out of the ordinary with his face.

Vince groaned and tried to flail around again, but further hard spanks from Pamela quickly settled him back down. Claire, for her part, felt up her new toy’s rapidly reddening ass and was rewarded with a squeal of displeasure. She grinned happily and then yanked Vince up and away from the table to this feet.

“Whaddaya think Pam? Good enough to get to the car?”

“MMMmpphg!?” Vince tried to buck away, and Pamela gave him a few more spanks before caressing his rear, “Mmmmmm. I think so. Goodness me, I am going to enjoy playin with this nice rear…” She ducked her head next to Vince’s ear and nibbled on it for a moment before whispering, “Prepare yourself pretty boy…”

“When do you get off again?” Claire asked absently as she cleared away the bits and pieces that had become spread over the room, packing everything up into her bag.

“Couple more hours. Gotta make sure bubble butt here isn’t missed.” Pam was groping Vince’s ass with one hand, the other holding him by the collar. The poor boy was shuddering in a heady mix of fear and lust as he was felt up by the powerful black woman.

“Heh, well I’ll make sure he’s nice and ready for you. Soften him up with a vibrating plug for a few hours.” Claire came around to the front of Vince and ran a single finger along his jawline, grinning at how Vince’s eyes pleaded with her, “I think I can be that nice unless he wants to keep making an ass of himself when we get home.”

Vince shifted against Pam, still held effortlessly in place by the woman, and growled plaintively at Claire. Who paid him no mind at all beyond patting his cheek and booping him on the nose. “Don’t worry Frenchie. You’ll have plenty of time to reflect on adjusting that attitude while we drive out to my place.” She finished packing up and slung the bag around Vince’s shoulders, positioning it just so to ensure it did a decent job of covering up the bulge of his arms through the hoodie. Vince’s head was adjusted further, to ensure the mask and hood kept his face well shadowed, and then the two ladies were finally ready to move.

Vince let out a bleat of dismay as he was frogmarched along, still deeper into the back hallways of the airport and still further away from any kind of help. They encountered only a handful of people, and all of these at a distance. The dim view of a security guard forcibly escorting a grumbling passenger was enough for the most of the staff to steer clear. Everyone had plenty of horror stories of unruly and rude passengers. No one wanted to add to their day. And so Pam guided Claire and their captive tourist along, making sure to walk at a sedate normal pace through all the twists and turns until they reached a side door. Vince tried to struggle again, but Pam simply gripped his waist, pulled him closer to her, and whispered a short crisp description of what she was going to do to Vince if he continued to act out.

Vince stilled almost immediately, and let out a small moan of desperation. Claire clucked and patted his fake hoodie arm, “There there Frenchie, she said she’d only do that if you’re bad. Just be good for us, and you needn’t worry at all!” She flashed him a happy grin and then hurried ahead of them, pulling a set of keys from her pocket.

They had emerged out into what looked like a minor loading dock of some kind, and Claire was just reaching an out of the way spot where a small van had been parked. She quickly unlocked the back, and Pam marched Vince over to the trunk. Despite a few bleats of dismay, and some additional struggling, the two women were able to wrestle him inside. Claire pulled the hoodie off of him as he went in, and then connected his bound arms and ankle cuffs into a snug but not overly stringent hogtie.

Vince moaned, and Claire patted his rump, “I know sweetie. I know you want to try a more stringent tie, but you don’t have to worry. You’ve already earned yourself a demerit with all this struggling, so I’ll be sure to tie you up nice and tight when we get home, okay?”

“MMmmgpghh!!” Vince tried to shout into his gag. It was most certainly not ok!!

Claire slapped his rump and grinned, “Easy there Frenchie, unless you want to earn another demerit so soon! And here I thought you would be a smart boy.” She shook her head mockingly, and then turned to Pam, “Well thanks for your help sweetie! I suppose I’ll see you in a few hours.”

The two women hugged briefly, and then Pam grinned with a predator’s air down at Vince who was squirming in the deep trunk in his hogtie, “Oh I’m looking forward to breaking this one in. Been far too long.”

They laughed as Vince growled at that, and then Claire slammed the trunk shut, hopped into the van, and drove off with a final wave of farewell to Pam.

The drive was relatively uneventful. Claire was happy enough to listen to the gagged moans, pleas, and cursing coming from behind her, every now and then announcing in a sing song voice that “You’ve earned another demerit…” She took the scenic route home. By the time she was pulling into her driveway, Vince had earned nine demerits in total, and Claire had finally, amusingly, gotten the boy to stop cursing at her. Perhaps he was exhausted, perhaps he had finally learned to stop digging the hole he was in ever deeper. Either way, she enjoyed the few minutes of relative quiet, until she put the van in park, and the garage door closed.

Show time.

Claire popped the trunk open, and beheld the strained face of her Frenchie, whimpering a little into his gag. She settled herself briefly on the lip and patted his ass, “You know, you looking surprisingly good in this skirt Frenchie. I definitely picked the right boy for this.”

Vince blushed furiously but, happily enough, chose not to scream at her through his gag. Claire’s smile grew a little. Perhaps the boy was learning. She idly stroked his butt while she picked away at the hogtie connector rope, eventually getting it undone, and cementing the blush on Vince’s face. She gave him another pat on the rear before she hooked a leash to his collar, and used it and an arm around his waist to haul him up and out of the trunk. Taking advantage of Vince’s momentary lack of resistance, Claire got him into the main area of her house and moving down the stairs. She opened the large, heavy basement door and had the distinct satisfaction of hearing Vince bleat into his gag, and feel him sag against her in shock.

The first look into Claire’s dungeon tended to do that to people. It was a comfortably large space, with some cells along one side near the door, before opening out into the main play area. Dungeon furniture loomed or squatted in potent anticipation for the torments and pleasures that would be bestowed on worthy bodies that lay or were attached to them. A multitude of bondage toys hung from hooks or were piled on shelves. But most of all, at least from Vince’s perspective if Claire had to guess, it was the woman on the other side of the door that took most of his attention.

She was dressed all in latex as a French Maid, gorgeous black for the most part with cute white latex ruffles and apron making the look that much more. Her wrists were captured in leather cuffs that were linked by chain to a demure leather belt. More cuffs dominated her ankles, her feet locked further into four inch black pumps. Around her neck was an elegant leather collar, and the bulk of her head was covered in a Gwen hood that left her nose and eyes exposed. Her eyes crinkled as Claire came in, and the girl did her best to curtsy. A gagged murmur of welcome was all she gave before she straightened again, and Claire leaned down to whisper into Vince’s ear.

“That’s going to be you by the time I’m finished with you.”

“MMmfmfggghhh…!” Vince groaned and tried to shake his head in refusal, struggling against his bonds. That the fetish maid in front of him didn't show any surprise at her owner bringing home a man clearly being kidnapped did not bode well for his chances. But Claire just held him tightly, continuing to march him forward, and reached out a hand to stroke the maid as she passed, “Melissa, be a dear would you and fetch me a workout kit? Got to get to work on Alice’s present.”

The maid nodded and disappeared elsewhere in the dungeon. Claire marched a struggling Vince over to where a chain hung down from the ceiling, and after a moment of juggling her hold on Vince and the chain, managed to attach it to his collar. A sudden whirring sound drew a strangled shriek from Vince as the chain was suddenly pulled taut, forcing him up onto his toes before coming to a halt. Claire cooed and patted him again, “Don’t worry sweetie, nothing to worry about. I just want you to concentrate on your breathing while we get you set up. No silly escape attempts or anything foolish like that, mmmm?”

Vince garbled out something that might have been an affirmative. It might have been an insult, more of his silly cursing in his native tongue. Just to be on the safe side Claire gave him a trio of firm spanks on that delightful rear of his, making him squeal and squirm, before she came back with a pair of shears and a glint in her eye. Vince bleated some more, but there was nothing he could do to halt the terrible snip-snip of those shears as they gradually peeled everything that protected his naked form from Claire’s touch and sight.

Vince’s moans were suddenly interrupted by a guttural shriek as he felt something ice cold engulf his most intimate parts, shaking and shivering in his bonds. He wailed into his thick gag as he felt Claire compressing his cock and balls, and shuddered as he heard a firm snick as a lock snapped shut, leaving his cock pressing against something hard and unyielding. He tried his best to look down, but the chain attached to his collar kept his head and neck wrenched taut with no possibility to see anything happening below his shoulders. Claire didn’t bother speaking yet, just making a clucking sound of reassurance before her hand, covered in a latex glove, began massaging his rear. Vince’s eyes bugged out as he felt Claire ease a finger inside, and he gave a moan and an involuntary thrust with his hips.

Claire giggled, “Such an eager little slut, Frenchie. Don’t worry, this is all for your own good.”

Claire spent a few minutes warming him up with her finger, before she withdrew and began gently but firmly wiggling a butt plug into Vince’s rear. He bucked and moaned, and struggled as much as he could, but his position gave him little means to actually resist what Claire wanted. The butt plug slide inexorably home into his rear, and Vince moaned as he felt himself filled. He swayed, his mind a little overwhelmed at the bondage, at the sensations coming from his rear, and at the frustration radiating from his caged cock. Such that he only dimly heard Claire thanking that maid…Melissa…and unbuckling his ankle cuffs. Vince just stood there for a while, twitching and involuntarily thrusting his hips, as he felt some sort of fabric pulled up and up his legs. He only gradually came back to his senses when Claire was standing in front of him, tugging and tweaking the fabric up to his chest.

“Now then, my darling Frenchie.” Claire patted his cheek, “I am going to untie your arms. I don’t want you to give me any trouble, so just so you are aware the keys to your collar are across the room. Well out of anyone’s reach. Moreover, you already have quite a few demerits that you need to work off, even without a genuine attempt at escape.” Claire took Vince’s chin in her hand, and her eyes locked his own to hers, “We’re going to have a lot of fun together you and I, so lets start off on the right foot, shall we? I don’t think you want me to leave you in that nasty reverse prayer position all night, do you?”

Vince goggled at her. She didn’t want him to escape? She wanted him to behave because this was fun? This bloody woman was a lunatic! He started to growl out a response into his gag, and then realized the futility of the situation. Even if he took a swing at her, or managed to wrestle her into submission, there was no way he could get free from the collar and chain. Especially since his bloody hands were still locked in these bloody mittens that kept his hands clenched in a fist. So, against his ardent desire to be free of this maniac, Vince nodded slightly and moaned his acceptance.

Claire patted his cheek, “Good boy! I knew you’d behave.”

Vince kept still as his captor picked away at the knots, and let out a thankful groan of relief into his gag as his arms were finally allowed to drop to his side. He felt the blood rush back into his arms and moaned as his limbs tingled and jerked as feeling returned to them. He barely moved as Claire tucked his arms into the fabric of what finally registered as a spandex catsuit, and then finished zipping the thing up to join near his collar. He felt a belt go around his waist and tighten in place, and then his arms gathered and chained to the belt, leaving him some freedom of movement. Certainly far more comfortable than the rope. Vince moaned, shaking his re-bound hands. Desperate to talk to her. To reason with this insane woman and hope that some shred of sanity remained to make her see how crazy this was. You couldn’t just kidnap people!

Claire hugged him from behind, kissing the back of his collar, “I know sweetie. I know I promised latex and cuteness, but you don’t have to worry. This is just for your exercises. I have all sorts of nice fetish clothing for you outside of your exercise periods. Your real training will be in something much nicer than this.” After she gave him another squeeze she bent down, and Vince felt his footwear removed, and the tight confines of high heeled shoes being attached to his feet. With bloody locks too! He squirmed and moaned, but Claire just carried on. Locking him into his new footwear. Re-locking his ankle cuffs and connecting them with chain. And then straightening back up and wrenching his elbows tightly behind him with a strap, forcing Vince to thrust his chest out in a wanton fashion. Claire grinned and spent a playful couple of minutes feeling up her captive’s chest, delighting in the noises he made.

Definitely the right choice.

She snapped the leash back onto his collar, and then came around in front of him, “Now how about we change out that big gag for something more comfortable?”

Vince nodded, the motion making his eyes water a little bit. Anything to be free of the feeling of his jaws wrenched wide by the packed material inside and the tight panel squishing it further in.

Claire smiled at him, the gesture oddly warm and genuine, which just confused Vince more as she unlocked the harness and began gently pulling cloth out of his mouth. As the last one left Vince managed to gasp, “Why? W-why me?”

Claire blinked at him, her smile curling into a wider grin, “Why you sweetie?” She reached behind him and gripped his rear, “Cause of this Frenchie, cause of this. Your ass is going to look perfect in the outfit I have for you. Though, you do need some exercising to make certain of the fit.” She released his rear and then held a plug gag in front of his mouth, cocking an eyebrow as though just expecting him to open his mouth and consent to his gagging again.

Vince clenched his jaw and glared at her.

Claire sighed, “Always so melodramatic, the French.” Her hand flashed up and squeezed his nostrils shut, the other holding the plug gag right in front of his mouth. Vince bucked and struggled, trying to dance away from her on the unsteady and unfamiliar platform of his new high heels. The chain snapped every attempt short, leaving him to spin and shift in the orbit of Claire, who just stood there calmly until his breath ran out, and shoved the plug gag deep into his mouth when he gasped for air.

“Decided to be a smartass did we?” Claire shook her head as she cinched the gag tightly, “I suppose you’ll learn eventually.” She took hold of the bulb that Vince just noticed hanging off of the front of the gag, and began squeezing it over and over and over again. Vince’s eyes went wide as he felt the gag in his mouth expanding, and tried to squeal out an apology. A threat. Anything to make the pressure inside halt. But Claire kept pumping until Vince’s cheeks were once more bulging, before she tightened the air valve and disconnected the pump, “There we are. Smartassery has consequences here Frenchie. You’ll learn that too.” She disconnected the chain from his collar and tugged the leash, forcing Vince to stumble along behind her.

Vince followed Claire over to three treadmills set in the corner of the dungeon. Claire positioned him on it, locking his waist belt and leash to hook points on the machine, and then starting it up at a brisk walking pace. Vince groaned into his gag, forced to a smart stride to keep up with the machine, his entire attention focused on not tripping in this ridiculous getup. Claire came around in front of him and smiled, “I think we’ll start with an hour. That should get you nice and amenable to being shifted into your play training outfit.”

Three hours later Vince was quite certain he had entered some sort of fetish hell.

The treadmill had been bad enough. By the time that the woman had come back for him his legs had been positively burning. He had been quite ready for a rest, even if that meant more bondage. But there hadn’t been rest, just the additional bondage. His sweat soaked spandex had been removed, and he had been re-dressed in a latex catsuit and corset, pulled uncomfortably tight, and bound with a leather armbinder, a thicker collar, and high heeled boots. Claire had forced him then to strut back and forth in front of her, while she lounged in a throne-like chair. Encouraging him with helpful advice, her deranged smile, and the crop in her hands which was never shy about whistling out to land blow after blow on his rump.

Vince’s mouth would have been dry from all the shrieking he had been doing, but the gag was doing an excellent job of generating all sorts of drool.

He had just turned around to begin another mincing pass when he heard the door open behind him. Figuring it was just Melissa coming back, he continued with his walk, past Claire without getting a corrective whack on his ass. He turned around and then squealed into his gag.

Pamela had returned.

The tall black woman had kitted herself out in black latex leggings, and a black latex top which showed off her powerful arms, and her generous cleavage. Her height had been further enhanced with a pair of black leather boots, and as she moved into the dungeon she still had that sensual predatory grace that made Vince tremble. Her eyes were on Vince already, and as he met her gaze her lips curled into a lazy pleased smile.

“Ah, Claire. He’s already improving isn’t he?”

Claire nodded from where she sat, her crop twirling idly through the air, “A quick learner, though he’s still got quite a mouth on him.”

Pamela chuckled and gave a little wave as she strode over to an alcove of the dungeon, “Well just give me a few moments to get set up, and we shall see if we can do something about his attitude.”

Claire giggled and hopped up from her seat, intercepting Vince as he staggered through another strutting walk, and snagging his leash, “Come along Frenchie, we’ve got to get you set up for Pam. Mistress Pamela to you, if you’re ever ungagged of course.”

Vince soon found himself strapped down to a bondage horse, with Claire checking over each strap, when the click-clack of boots announced Pam’s return. He felt her hand slowly run up his back, and moaned into his mouth-filling gag. He raised his head to look up, and squealed as he saw the strapon jutting out from Pamela’s waist. The black woman chuckled and grabbed his hair, pulling his head up a bit further as she crouched down in front of him, “It’s going to be just you and me boy. Claire needs a bit of a break after all the work you’ve made her do. So I’m going to spend the next little while seeing if we can tamp down some of that fiery sexual energy you keep locked up inside.”

Vince moaned into his gag and struggled against the plethora of straps that held him to the bondage horse, but made no headway. Pam chuckled and released his hair, letting his head fall back down to hang below his shoulders as she strode around behind him and began massaging his rear and around the base of the buttplug. Vince let out a loud and muffled “OOOH!” as Pam drew the butt plug out, and received another chuckle before he felt the rubbery pressure of the strapon begin to press into him from behind. He bucked against his restraints, but found that his struggling just seemed to make the intruder press into him all the more quickly. All Vince could do was moan as he took it in, struggling and squirming in his bonds.

“Mmmmmmmm,” the approval was evident in Pam’s voice, “Such an eager little toy, aren’t you Frenchie? I bet you’re really wishing that cock cage was off don’t you, hmm?”

Vince found himself nodding without realizing it, and managed to stop himself with a serious effort of will. Which promptly shattered as Pam began to slowly thrust back and forth, in and out, pummelling the walls of Vince’s self control into dust.

“Wish that you could really enjoy it? Well sucks to be you.” Pam giggled and kept thrusting into him, one hand gripping Vince’s hip, the other delivering desultory spanks to both cheeks.

Vince was being overwhelemed with sensation, and couldn’t do more than grunt and moan into his gag as he was taken and spanked. His hands flexed uselessly in their mittens, and he stared straight ahead, his body a writhing mass of sensation concentrated on his ass. His cock pressed hard against the confines of its cage, eager for a release that seemed unlikely to ever come. Vince’s thoughts were rapidly narrowing down to pure, simple, overwhelming need, “Don’t worry though, we won’t go toooo hard…this time.”

Pam slowly thrust herself all the way inside, enough that she could lean over the back of Vince’s bucking, squirming form, and whisper throatily into his ear, “But I promise you this, my wonderful little toy. Before we are done with you here, you are going to be begging me to take you. To make you my bitch on this bench.” And then she delivered several hard spanks while she was buried up to her hips in Vince, and the poor tourist boy shrieked in pleasure and pain.

After what felt likes ages, Pamela was eventually satisfied with her initial session with Vince, and plugged him back up before departing. Claire, for her part, clucked and cooed over Vince as she re-bound him “for bedtime!” This involved being frogtied in a snug, but much more comfortable straightjacket, and shoved into one of the half dozen basement cages that were scattered around Claire’s dungeon. She had crouched down in front of the cage, flicked his butt plug on to a low teasing vibration and wished him a good night.

“Think sexy thoughts Frenchie! We get to start your training for real, tomorrow!”

Claire was a relentless trainer over the days and weeks that followed. Time didn’t quite seem solid to Vince as he simply existed in the captivity of Claire’s basement dungeon, with nothing but his list of activities to judge the passage of time. Pamela made appearances twice a day. Once in the morning to administer whatever punishments or demerits he had earned since her last visit. And then again in the evening when she rode him for a while with her strapon. Those sessions were the closest either of them ever let Vince get to pleasure since “A proper maid must always be driven to serve by her yearning for release, physical and sexual” Claire instructed, lubing up his plug after one such strapon session.

Occasionally though, if he had really impressed one of them during his day, Pam would hold a vibrator to his cage while she thrust into him. Giving him a chance at pleasure and release, even if it often proved far too short for anything other than additional frustration. Even then, Vince lusted after those moments after the first pair. Despite still ardently wanting to escape, and often still doing his best to struggle and fight against them when they tied him, he found himself looking forward to those pure moments when Mistress Pamela went at him with vibrator and strapon.

Vince spent a couple of hours every day walking in his fetish gear on the treadmill, and often another couple of hours carrying or cleaning, or otherwise serving in more restrictive gear. The repetitive physical activity soon aided in slimming down some of his weight, firming up his form and his rear. Claire would drop by at various points during his treadmill time, sometimes to add time, or increase the speed, or just stand by and pinch his butt and giggle.

He cleaned Claire’s dungeon, sometimes alongside one of the other subs that Claire seemed to collect as naturally as breathing, other times with Claire watching over him. He was instructed in how to cook and make basic meals, which he was allowed to eat. After a while he was allowed up into the main area of Claire’s house to clean and scrub, all in tight restrictive latex and bondage. Learning how to clean in fetish maid attire became the lion’s share of his days, taking up almost every moment from the time he stepped off the treadmill until the time he was strapped down to the bondage horse to await Mistress Pamela’s return.

Every day Vince’s clothing outfits and bondage became a bit tighter, a bit more restrictive. Every second day Claire went at him with a measuring tape, taking and retaking his measurements, remarking on progress or punishing him for perceived dereliction.

The sheer control Claire exercised over him, the repetitive monotony of each day, and the clear punishments that he received for anything less than perfection all combined to wear away at Vince’s mind. The shouting and cursing, whether out loud or through his gag died away. It never gained him anything other than spankings, floggings, or other punishments. And when he didn’t angrily respond to his captors’ teasing, he was often rewarded. A more comfortable sleeping mat inside his cage. A sensual massage while strapped down to a table. A vibrator on his chastity cage. And as Vince gave ground on not volubly shouting for his release, he slowly found himself giving ground elsewhere. Less frantic escape efforts when he thought he was alone, or when they were trying to re-bind him. He was tired of constantly being punished. As humiliating as it was to accept pleasure or little rewards from the two women who controlled him, it was better than being punished like some errant school boy who had forgotten his manners.

And so Vince eventually found himself kneeling on Claire’s kitchen floor, watching her taste his most recent meal. He was dressed in a classic French Maid outfit made entirely of latex. His wrists and ankles were cuffed, with chains running between them and back to the waist belt he had locked on. His butt plug thrummed on its ‘tease’ setting which kept him in a constant state of frustrated arousal, with his chastity cage tight and unyielding. A thick collar made it difficult to turn his head, and covered most of his neck, while a latex hood crowned with white latex ruffles enclosed his head. The hood had eyeholes and a hole for his mouth, which was presently taken up by a comfortable ballgag (he had behaved this morning and avoided a mouth stuffing). Melissa stood behind Claire, dressed in a similar fashion as Vince.

“Mmmm!” Claire smacked her lips and grinned down at Vince, “Well done Vince!”

Vince started a little, surprised after so long to hear his actual name again. He blinked and stared at her, mumbling a little in his gag.

“Well I think after how well you’ve done, your name can be restored.” Claire grinned and ruffled the top of his head, “Now today’s a pretty big day. I have a great surprise for you, so keep on your best behaviour please.”

Vince so dearly wanted to growl and curse at her, at the way she just naturally assumed her control over him and his actions. But he really, really didn’t want to make the switch from gentle to punishment today. Not when with his name being restored to him he might actually be getting…something. Released? Maybe? He felt his heart flutter a little with hope.

Claire meanwhile happily munched on the last little bits of her breakfast before she stood up and gestured for Melissa to begin cleaning, “I’ll be back in a little while. Gotta show Vince his surprise.” She squeezed Melissa’s latex covered bottom, and grinned as the girl moaned into her gag. Then she urged Vince to his feet, and led him away. To the garage. Back to the van.

Vince felt himself starting to really hope now. Was she actually going to release him? Let him go? He couldn’t do anything to jeopardize his possible good fortune. So he cautiously followed along behind the woman who had spent the last…however many weeks, training him and breaking him to his collar and her control. Could it really all be finally over?

Claire urged him into the back of the van once again, and secured his collar and wrists to the discrete little eyebolts she had had mounted there. Satisfied that Vince was secure, and unable to escape, she closed up the back, hopped in the vehicle, and got them on their way.

There was a party to get to after all.

“You know, I do have other guests who want to talk with me,” Alice said wryly as she allowed Claire to steer her into a room at her club. The club owner and dominatrix had her eyes covered by Claire, who was walking close behind her and giggling every now and then. She had promised Alice “A real surprise” and, knowing Claire, that could only mean that Alice was about to receive someone as opposed to something as a gift. Which suited her needs rather well these days anyway.

“This is worth it, trust me.” Claire burbled from behind her, fairly vibrating with eagerness.

She had Alice through the door, and then leaned forward to rest her arms on the other woman’s shoulders, “Are you ready for the best birthday gift ever?”

Alice grinned, “Show me what you got.” Claire’s hands flew away from her eyes, and she blinked for a moment in the low light, “Oh…my….goodness…”

The low lighting of the room left much of the surrounding area in shadow, but the centre itself was brightly lit, as though it was a store display case. In the centre of the room, stood Vince. Not that he had a choice, the way that Claire had left him.

The poor tourist had been expertly touched up. His latex French Maid outfit was flawless and had been shined up to perfection. His head was captured by a Gwen hood, underneath which was a large plug gag that kept his mouth occupied. A thick collar firmly held his neck in place, and would make it difficult for any real movement, and a chain was attached to the front of his collar and locked to the ceiling. His hands were locked behind him in bondage mittens, and then chained to the back of his collar, leaving him in a fairly relaxed reverse prayer type position. His upper arms also were cuffed and chained behind his back. His latex frilled Maid skirt hinted but hid his chastity cage and the thrumming butt plug Claire had left him occupied with, making him moan in frustrated pleasure even as the two women entered the room. His legs were locked into elegant looking four inch pumps, and chains connected his ankle cuffs together and to the floor.

Vince was utterly helpless, and he could only stare at the dim outlines of the women who had entered the room. He knew one was Claire. The other, he hadn’t the faintest idea.

Alice brought a hand to her mouth, covering the smile that had exploded to life there, and traced her gaze over the gorgeous bound boy, “My present?”

“Yeah!” Claire gave her a hug and then came around in front of her, “Not only did I get you a boy to be your French Maid, but he’s actually French! Like from actual France!” She was quite pleased with herself, “No knock off local boys for you! I’ve spent the last few weeks impressing some basic training into him, but you’re more than welcome to tailor anything further.” Claire grinned.

Alice’s smile widened, taking in the way that Vince’s eyes held only the tiniest spark of rebellion. The rest of him just looked nervous, and eager, and frustrated. The perfect combination. And one that Claire was an expert at cultivating in any playmate she fancied.

“How long do I have him for?”

“Weeelllll, I did some re-jigging of his vacation schedule.” Claire ostentatiously pulled out an airline ticket, and handed it over to Alice, turning to grin at Vince’s moan, “Since Frenchie here wanted to really take in the local culture, I felt that the initial couple of weeks he had allocated just weren’t going to be enough. I think keeping him for a month shouldn’t be out of the question.”

Vince groaned into his gag, his hips thrusting involuntarily. A bloody month more of this insanity??

Claire winked at him, “Maybe more? I don’t think he has anything especially pressing. Beyond being a good little submissive maid for his new owner…”