By Jane Johnson
Originally Published in Bondage Life No. 35, February 1988
Illustrations by TarsisStory Codes: F/f, M/ff, bondage, reluct, cons maid, training, rope, chain, shackles, gags, uniform, leather, rubber, boots, heels, X
A pretty, young maid is taught a new meaning for the word “servitude” by the sensuous but stern Madame Bothewell…
A titillating fantasy of rubber, leather, and high-heel bondage.
PART Three
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cecile awoke to the presence of Andre the chauffeur, as he bent to the task of releasing her from the sleeping restraints that Madame Bothewell had recently taken to binding her with.
“Madame has given me only this one key, Miss. She expects you in the morning-room in forty minutes with her breakfast,” He smiled a quick smile and added, “Good luck, Miss.” With that he rose from the bed, walked swiftly to the door and was gone.
All weekend long, Cecile had been rigorously put through her paces as Madame Bothewell prepared for the return of her husband. A variety of new costumes and items of restraint had arrived Sunday afternoon, custom-made to Cecile’s measurements. Madame had spared no expense, and the array of garments and equipment was both dazzling and bizarre.
Her ears were muffled by little sponge-rubber plugs, and although she could still hear, it was only those sounds in close proximity to her. She was able to see only vaguely through the thick material, and she squinted as she tried to identify the various keys that would fit the several locks to her restraints. She had hopped carefully over to the dresser to obtain these keys, and now with clumsily gloved fingers, she began the process of achieving her freedom.
First the ankle straps, padlocked securely to the six-inch ballet pumps that had kept her feet rigidly arched throughout the night. Next, the thigh straps, themselves attached to the wide belt that kept her breathing shallow and quick. Another key for the beautifully tooled leather breast harness that had persuaded her bosom into sharply-jutting pyramids, and finally the padlocked leather collar that kept her range of vision strictly forward and upward.Cecile sighed a deep sigh of relief as she pulled the rubber bulb from her mouth and quickly shrugged her way out of the shiny bodysuit. She had, amazingly, slept well, and although her bondage had been utterly escape-proof and tight, she had been almost comfortable within its unyielding embrace.
She fastened the severely boned white satin corset around her torso and set to work pulling up the black leather lacing. Her slim waist became slimmer, and slimmer yet as she looked hopefully for the white tape that marked the lacing where Madame Bothewell had decided the corset would be tight enough. Cecile paused, gasping, before finally glimpsing the elusive white marks and tying the laces off before they could slip back out of her grasp.
A fine new pair of silk stockings, seamed and bearing the legend “Made in France”, were eased up her thighs and securely fastened to the eight elastic suspenders of the corset before Cecile shoe-horned her feet inside a pair of black patent leather high-heeled pumps that had their own locking ankle straps.She moved swiftly to the bathroom to relieve herself before slipping into a slick rubber panty-girdle that hugged her private parts in a cool and fragrant grip that immediately make her exquisitely aware of her femininity. Her brassiere was also of white satin that matched her corset, and as she hooked it together between her breasts, the cunningly designed wiring forced them upward and out, giving the illusion that they were nearly twice their usual generous size.
Cecile cupped her breasts in her hands while she decided what to do next. Makeup. Quickly now. She brushed out her hair and bound it into a tidy ponytail before attaching a lace-trimmed bow to keep it all in place. Eye shadow, followed by black kohl and false eyelashes: a little rouge, then wet-coral lipstick. Mmmmm. She rolled her lips together, finishing the ritual, before returning to her bed to slip into her maid’s uniform.It was a new one, tighter than the last to make the most of her reduced waistline and lavishly cantilevered breasts. The only other apparent difference between it and its predecessor were the scores of hook-and-eye fasteners in the back where usually there would have been a zipper. Cecile struggled to connect these, one eye on the clock, thinking of how little time remained in which to prepare Madame’s breakfast.
The only remaining items were the leather gloves and the sponge-rubber gag that she had been told to keep in her mouth at all times. She drew up the gloves before inserting the pliant ball of rubber inside her mouth and took a last look in the mirror to check her appearance before exiting the bedroom to go click-clacking downstairs to the kitchen.Andre, bless him, had understood the unlikelihood of Cecile’s being able to prepare breakfast in the allotted time and had almost finished preparing it himself as Cecile rushed into the kitchen clutching her white latex apron. She stopped, surprised, while Andre laid steaming poached eggs on crisp warm toast.
“It’s quite alright, Miss. Almost done. I wouldn’t want you to be late for Madame.” He poured steaming, fragrant coffee and handed the laden tray to Cecile.“I wonder, Miss, if you would mind my holding you for a moment? I know I have no right, but…”
Cecile was almost amused. With her hands holding a loaded tray and the foam rubber gag in her mouth, she was in no position to refuse as Andre slipped his arms around her and ran his gloved hands over her hips. He was getting positively creative in his advances. She gave a little sigh as his strong hands passed lightly over her breasts, his reward for the time he had bought her. She really didn’t mind he was so civilized about it all.He adored her, she knew, and what real woman dislikes being adored? With a final gentle squeeze, his hands left her and glancing at his watch, he said, “Thank you, Miss, for your kindness. Time for Madame’s breakfast, you're right on time. Off you go!”
Cecile impulsively raised her face to his cheek, opened her lips as far as she could around her gag and kissed him lightly before turning away and leaving him to his chores.“Ah, Cecile! Remarkable!” Madame Bothewell’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I was sure you would be late. In fact, I was rather counting on it. My word! That new outfit is absolutely stunning.”
Cecile laid the tray before Madame, curtsied, and stepped back to stand smartly ready.Madame Bothewell raised her hand magnanimously, smiling. “You may remove your gag, Cecile. Sit down, join me, help yourself to coffee. We’ll talk a little this morning and afterwards you may have your own breakfast. Come…”
Cecile sat across the table from her Mistress, admiring Madame’s ivory-colored silk blouse, low-cut and revealing. Large wispy ruffles edged the garment in contrasting violet and the cleft between her breasts seemed to reach down forever.“Well, Cecile. Today’s the day. I expect my husband at about twelve-thirty, with his guests, and we will be ready for them. You understand the arrangements for dinner tonight? Good. Andre will go to town and pick them up while you and I prepare ourselves. My husband and I like to… entertain… and you will be expected to obey his every instruction, as you do mine. Naturally, you will be on display, as will I. We will be a feast for the eyes, and also the senses. Are you with me, my dear?”
Cecile wasn’t really sure, but she smiled and nodded eagerly.“Certainly, Madame. I will be as obedient as always. Will I wear this outfit, Madame?”
“I think so, Cecile. Nothing suits you better. Although a few… interesting… accessories to further illustrate your position would not be amiss either.”Madame Bothewell outlined her plans for the rest of the day, while Cecile sipped her coffee and listened intently, acutely aware throughout of her tightly corseted waist and of the tense caress of the rubber panty-girdle.
“…and Cecile, in the future, you will make the coffee yourself. I would know Andre’s attempts anywhere, and I do not approve.” She smiled, amused as Cecile’s guilty expression, before continuing, “I can just imagine his eagerness to gain points so that he can fondle you in the kitchen. Did you let him?”Cecile blushed crimson and looked at the floor.
“I thought so. Cecile, you must learn not to sell your charms so cheaply. We women must save ourselves for better things and always drive a harder bargain. He is an attractive fellow, is he not? But he will do much more for you if you elude him. Watch me tonight. Learn.”Madame Bothewell turned her chair out from the table and raised the hem of her skirt so that her stocking tops were visible. “But enough of this woman-to-woman chit-chat. Lie across my lap, Cecile. I must discipline you for this disobedience. Come!”
Cecile did as she was instructed, humbly, and Madame raised the back of her maid’s dress, then paused. “I will only spank you, Cecile, if it was your idea. Was it? Or did Andre take it upon himself to prepare the coffee?”Cecile considered this, briefly. Should she tell the truth and escape being spanked? And if she did, what would happen to Andre? Would Madame actually discipline him? She decided that Andre had really only been trying to help her, and how could she betray him for being kind? The thought of being spanked by Madame frightened her, yet at the same time there was a thrill of excitement at being in this position, under Madame’s hand.
“Madame, it was my idea. I am sorry. It will not happen again.”“Very good, Cecile. It had better not.”
With that, madam’s hand fell on Cecile’s rubber-clad behind with surprising strength. Cecile writhed in thrilled discomfort that rapidly became rippling velvet pain before Madame had done with her punishment.“That’s my girl. Not a sound. Well endured, Cecile, and I hope it was worth it to cover for Andre. Now go and eat your breakfast. You have a half an hour.”
Cecile lowered her dress gingerly over her flaming bottom cheeks and turned and curtsied before Madame Bothewell, who somehow seemed always to know everything.“Thank you, Madame.” Her voice quavered only a little. She retrieved her sponge-rubber gag, eased it back inside her mouth, and took Madame’s tray out to the kitchen in a state of throbbing sensual awareness. She was slightly shocked at her own reaction to what had just happened. She couldn’t say she’d enjoyed it, really, but the spanking had stirred up a storm of emotions in her and had left her in a strange state. She felt on the verge of gushing, her mind a whirl with strange feelings. Madame seemed to know just exactly how to pull her strings. Like a puppet-mistress, and her the puppet. As she poached her eggs, she concentrated on clearing her head, on calming the turmoil below. She thought of Andre. This time Andre owed her one. And she wondered how exactly she would demand restitution. Hmm…
After she had eaten and tidied up the kitchen, Cecile returned to the morning room and to Madame.“Ah, Cecile, you're becoming very punctual I see. You may remove your gag and help prepare me.”
Madame Bothewell unlocked several dresser drawers and removed yet more items of restraint, laying them on the polished rosewood tabletop.“These are my restraints, Cecile,” She smiled at Cecile’s surprised stare before continuing, “Some of them, anyway. There are entire wardrobes full of them. I, too, enjoy being the submissive on occasion, and of course my husband simply adores having me bound and gagged under his control. Although who actually is in control is debatable.”
She selected several beautifully made examples and handed them to Cecile, who seemed quite taken aback at this unexpected turn of events.“First you may strap my body harness on, Cecile. Make everything as tight as you can. Then take these locks and slip them through the rings. Try to get it right the first time, dear; I don’t have any of the keys to these particular locks. If you have any trouble understanding how things go, for goodness sake, ask me before you lock it in place. You may begin.”
Cecile swallowed, blushing, and fastened the wide leather belt around Madame’s waist, further reducing it to almost caricature-like proportions, before locking it behind her back. The harness was a complicated piece of engineering, with its jumble of padded straps and buckles, and she had to solve it like some weird Chinese puzzle.A high collar, stiffly boned, connected from behind to the waist belt, forcing Madame’s head proudly back. A fantastic breast harness had to be coaxed over her magnificent bosom, lifting and molding it into arresting prominence before it, too, was locked unremovable in place.
Cecile found it hard to control her breathing. Madam’s erotic scent distracted her as she tremblingly handled her employer’s bust, pushing, squeezing, capturing it in padlocked splendor. Madame Bothewell stood silent and straight, only her eyes moving as they followed Cecile’s every move.“Tighter, Cecile,” she breathed. “Everything must be as tight as you can make it.”
Cecile put her back into it, and madam’s breasts were squeezed even more tightly between the taut straps, while at the same time being thrust outward.“Ahhh. That’s good, dear. Perfect. Lock it in place now.”
Madame was still dressed in her frilly low-cut blouse and sheath-skirt. The effect of all this shining black leather was one of extreme contrast. A softly feminine woman pressure packed inside cold, hard restraint, her already magnificent figure commanded into utterly inescapable eye-riveting splendor. She trembled and closed her eyes, savoring her position.“Strap my arms and wrists before you tighten the center strap, Cecile. Make sure my shoulders are forced back and that my elbows touch.”
Cecile did her best, and before long, she had drawn Madame’s elbows tightly together behind her back, locked her wrists to her belt, and drawn the wide leather center strap down between Madame’s slightly parted legs, up between the thrusting bulges of her behind, and back to the waist belt. Madame’s skirt was now hiked up between her legs, stocking-tops showing, lending a slightly ravaged look to the shockingly restrained captive. Ce’s head was swimming. Her rubber panty-girdle was moist and slippery inside, slipping and sliding as she moved and making her giddy. She was indescribably excited at what she was doing to Madame Bothewell.“Alright, Cecile. Lock everything and listen carefully. Attach the leash to my collar, then go to your room and we will collect the other items that I have left on your dresser. Lead me behind you, just for practice. I want to see grace in the way you walk, but also speed. Walk purposefully. Maintain pressure on the leash but try not to make me fall. Understand? Off you go.”
Cecile grasped the leather leash and led Madame from the room, stepping quickly along the hallway, forcing Madame to move just a little too fast for comfort, but not fast enough to cause any threat of falling. The house was large and as she hurried up the stairs the sound of Madame’s breathing became slightly more evident, her breasts bulging and fluttering inside the confines of the harness as she struggled for breath.“Good, Cecile…” Madame Bothewell looked only slightly flushed from her exertions. “Very graceful. Very commanding. Now, take the leather hood from the dresser and lace it onto your head. Tight. When it is tied off, lock the collar in place and follow my instructions. You may begin.”
“Delightful Cecile. What a picture you make. Now listen. With me absolutely unable to escape, you must pay close attention to my directions. I will be your eyes and you will be my hands. We have ten minutes to reach the front gate. Walk carefully. Turn to your left – there – walk forward four paces and feel for the door.”
Cecile led her mistress carefully down the stairs, slowly at first, then with increasing confidence as Madame gave her clear, precise instructions. It was an exercise designed to build trust and to further habituate Cecile to taking instructions. She took a certain pride in her ability to obey Madame Bothewell’s commands and felt at the same time utterly feminine and desirable.She successfully negotiated the front door, led Madame through, and paused to close the door behind her. The latch had been set, at Madame’s instruction, and the door locked itself as Cecile closed it. They were now outside, warm sun on Cecile’s hooded head, unable to get back inside the house, Cecile sightless and silenced inside her hood, and Madame inescapably bound inside securely padlocked bonds.
“Turn to your right – there! Walk forward. Gently curve to your left, slowly, that’s it. Almost there. Stop! Turn to your left, there! Slowly back up – slowly – there. You may sit down, Cecile.”Madame Bothewell eased herself down beside Cecile and together they awaited the arrival of Madame’s husband and his guests, while Madame instructed Cecile as to how she was to behave.
CHAPTER NINE
“Here they come! Cecile, stand up! Quickly!”
The two captive women stood before the iron gates as Andre pulled up outside and climbed out to open them. In excited impatience, Madame stood to stiff attention for her husband, while Cecile, firmly gripping Madame’s leash, wondered what would happen next.“Eleanor, my dear!” A deep masculine voice intruded upon Cecile’s reverie. “At last! My darling, you look ravishing. The amount of attention you pay me is almost embarrassing. Here, let me hold you!”
“Harold, dearest.” Madam’s rich alto reached Cecile’s ears, followed by muffled sounds of delight as they embraced.“Darling, allow me to introduce Mr. Yamashita, Saburo Yamashita. Eleanor, my wife.”
Madame did her stiff best to curtsy, in response to the Japanese man’s solemn bow, a commendable gesture under her stringently bound circumstances.“Welcome, Saburo-san, it is my deepest pleasure to meet you. And…?”
“Kimiyo Kirasawa, Mr. Yamashita’s escort.”“I welcome you to our humble home, Kimiyo.”
The slender woman bowed deeply. She was dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono, with a wide silk sash at her waist. Her wrists, however, were tied high in the center of her back and a single rose was held between her lips. She smiled sweetly and shifted delicately inside her shimmering kimono, which was so tight at the ankles that she could only take six-inch steps.“Cecile, I presume?” that deep voice again.
“None other, Harold, dear. And quite the finest maid we have ever had the good fortune to find. Cecile, meet my husband.”Cecile curtsied, she was really rather good at this by now, and bobbed her hooded head respectfully. She wondered what everyone looked like, especially the Japanese. Later, she thought. For now, just concentrate on not stumbling over anything.
“Shall we go inside, Harold? Our guests must be tired after their flight, and so must you. Andre! Take the bags inside and prepare the Green Room. Take Cecile with you and have her prepare tea. Off you go, Cecile. Make sure your hair is brushed…”Andre led Cecile away to the kitchen and removed her hood with the key given him by Madame. He naturally took the opportunity to run his fingers over the maid’s breasts.
“Andre! That’s enough!” Cecile pushed him away as the plug popped from her mouth. “This morning Madame spanked me because you made the coffee! I covered up for you this time, but if you keep fingering me I promise I will tell her all about it. Now go and get the bags and leave me alone!” She wasn’t angry, just pretending, but it was as well to take the initiative, according to Madame.“Of course, Miss. Sorry Miss. But it’s just that, well…”
“Go!” she pointed at the door, a stern look on her lovely face. Andre went, his eyes rapturous. Good heavens, it actually worked!Cecile served tea in the drawing room, and for the first time actually got to see Madame’s husband. He was as gorgeous as she had imagined a woman like Madame would be able to attract. He shone with that certain indefinable air of utter self-confidence. Well groomed to the point of perfection, wrinkles in only the right places and a physique that spoke of quiet power. His intelligent eyes twinkled like aquamarines as they met Cecile’s and she automatically blushed and looked down at her feet.
“So, this is Cecile. Remarkable. Quite stunning. Do you enjoy working for my wife, Cecile? Does she treat you well?”Cecile removed the foam-rubber gag from her mouth and curtsied. “Very much indeed, Monsieur. Madame is most kind to me, Monsieur.”
“Not too kind, though, I hope?”“Oh, no Monsieur. Madame keeps me suitably restrained and I am very happy here, Monsieur.”
She curtsied again, blushed again, replaced the gag inside her mouth and sat down beside Kimiyo, at Madame’s request, to help the Oriental woman drink her tea, since her wrists were still bound behind her back. Madame was nestled beside her husband, almost purring with satisfaction as he lifted her teacup to her crimson lips. She was also still securely imprisoned in her complicated harness. Only the two men and Cecile herself were free.Kimiyo smiled into Cecile’s eyes as she drank the hot tea. The rose had been removed from her mouth but she was still silent in the presence of her husband; delicate and exotic, a dark-eyed bird of paradise.
“Cecile, after you have cleared away the tea things, go upstairs and run a bath for our guests. Attend to them. My husband and I will be in the master bedroom. Dinner will be served at eight tonight; the instructions are on the kitchen table.” Madame finished her tea. “And Cecile…”Cecile turned once more to her Mistress, removing her gag.
“Madam?”“Thank you, Cecile. We are all very pleased with you. You do us credit.”
“Thank you, Madame. It is my pleasure.” She replaced the gag once more in her mouth and took the tea things out to the kitchen, studied madam’s instructions for dinner, and returned to attend to the needs of the guests.Cecile waited outside the bathroom while the two Japanese bathed together. She was startled by the sudden appearance of Kimiyo, naked in the doorway.
“Please to join us, Cecile? You come?” Her voice was soft and melodious, a dark little bird in a gilded cage.Cecile entered and was greeted by Saburo-san, smiling at her through a cloud of steam. Cecile admired what little she could see of him. His almond-shaped eyes were coal-black, and the slight stubble on his face gave him a rather barbaric look. A benign pirate, smiling through the mist.
“Please to sit here?” Kimiyo indicated the straight wooden chair beside the bathtub. “Saburo-san wishes me, so.”Cecile sat down where indicated, and now Kimiyo lay naked across her lap and offered her steaming-damp bottom to the shocked maid.
“Please to punish Kimiyo, Cecile. For Saburo-san. Please?” Kimiyo was smiling, willing. Cecile glanced at the Japanese man in the bathtub, who simply continued to smile silently. She looked back down at Kimiyo and shrugged. Madame had instructed her to take care of their wishes. Oh well…Cecile’s hand fell across Kimiyo’s perfectly shaped behind with a slap that echoed around the steamy room. The woman dug her fingernails into Cecile’s thigh and trembled as her spanking continued. The man in the tub looked on, beaming, and when Cecile stopped, Kimiyo turned to her, her eyes moist.
“Please to continue, Cecile?” she smiled.After several more spanks, Cecile helped Kimiyo to her feet and was handed some white nylon cord.
“Please to tie hands behind?”Cecile bound the woman’s hands and helped her back into the tub with her man. He smiled another never-ending smile and thanked her in perfect English.
Cecile curtsied, rose and let herself out of the bathroom, checked the time, and decided to go to the kitchen to prepare dinner.CHAPTER TEN
“Eleanor, darling, how I’ve missed you! And our games. Let’s pretend that this is me, now how will you act?”
Madame Bothewell had leaned forward and promptly started licking the thing, sliding her lips up and down the shaft, before taking it inside her mouth and sucking eagerly on it. Harold held her, melting, as she strained against her bonds trying to swallow it whole. When it was all the way inside, he wrapped the straps around her neck and buckled it tightly inside her.Her eyes fluttered, her nostrils flared and she flushed in sexual arousal as he produced the first of the keys that would release her. Removing the lock that held her crotch-strap in place, he lowered her panties and removed them. Holding them up to his nose he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, bathing in her fragrance while she squirmed in delight, his strong hand between her thighs. She moaned and tensed as he lowered his face and tasted the fruits of his good fortune.
Later he told her to undress him, then waited patiently as she did so with great difficulty, her hands still strapped and locked behind her. When he was finally naked, he lay on their bed and commanded her to straddle him. He would not yet release her. That would come later, as they lay spent and steaming, flesh to flesh beneath clean satin sheets. For now, she must earn her release, and her pleasure, chained and commanded, the best of wives, yearning for his touch.Much later, as Cecile passed by on her way to the bathroom, she heard the sounds of masculine leather against feminine flesh, and muted cries of anxious delight. No voice pleaded for mercy, in fact the contrary; Madame writhed and tensed, lost in the moment, transported to her own image of heaven. Her husband had returned.
When Cecile served dinner at precisely eight that evening, she was scarcely surprised to see Madame and Kimiyo strapped to their chairs, only their arms free from the elbows down so they could eat. The only thing that even caused her to raise an eyebrow was the sight of their bare breasts, thrust forward by their tight bondage as they sat politely conversing with each other while their men stood by the open fire drinking sherry.Cecile served dinner with all the grace and skill she could muster, sometimes fairly flying about the room in her tall, stiletto heels. No one seemed to notice her. The ladies chatted casually and their husbands only had eyes for their lovely wives, sitting tightly bound to their chairs at the candle-lit table, their breasts bouncing slowly as they ate.
After Cecile’s magnificent dessert, a superb rendition of ‘Poire Belle Helene’, she was sent to the kitchen to do the dishes, being instructed to return as soon as she was finished. Andre was there to help, and in no time at all she was standing in front of the mirror, freshening her makeup with Andre’s arms wrapped around her waist.“Really, Andre. You're like a dog in heat. If you want to be useful, polish my shoes for me. I’m in a hurry.”
She stared at him incredulously as he fell to his knees and began licking her high-heeled pumps. She was going to step out of his way but something stopped her, and odd excitement, and instead she grasped his hair and pulled his head back so that he was looking up at her.“That’s a good position for you, Andre,” she whispered. “From there you can see right up my dress. Would you like to smell my rubber panty-girdle?”
She felt an immense satisfaction as his eyes grew wide and his breath came in ragged little puffs. He held her thighs and buried his head beneath her dress, inhaling the pungent aroma of warm latex and aroused sex. Cecile closed her eyes, realizing the power she had over him. She had glimpsed it before, of course, but now she knew she could control it, use it, ration it out or withhold it to suit her purpose. Unlimited power. She smiled to herself and stroked Andre’s head, thrilling…Madame and Kimiyo had been released from their chairs and now sat beside their men on separate couches beside the fire. Howard was genuinely ecstatic to be back with his wife and was kissing her lovingly as Cecile entered, Saburo-san was content to fondle Kimiyo’s bosom and sip his brandy.
There were opened boxes on the carpet, and inside Cecile could make out various items of female attire, the exclusive kind that could only have cost a small fortune, along with other items of slick rubber and leather. Gifts from the men to their women. A custom from time immemorial to ensure favor. Cecile felt a pang of envy, but even as she told herself that she too could someday have these things, Harold rose from the couch and helped Madame to her feet.“Finished, Cecile? Good girl. I have a little something for you, a little bonus for being such a fine maid.” He handed Cecile a gaily-wrapped box and smiled at Madame as the maid eagerly unwrapped it. Inside was a genuine fur coat. Rich and glowing with undiluted quality. The first mink coat Cecile had ever seen outside of a movie theater. She gasped, blushed, but there was more.
“Try it on, dear.” Madame was almost as thrilled as Cecile.It fit her like a glove. Sheer delight. She put her hands in her pockets and discovered an envelope. Withdrawing it she shyly looked up at her employers.
“Go ahead, Cecile. Open it.”She almost fainted. Inside was a check for one thousand pounds, along with an airline ticket to Bermuda. Her head spun, she didn’t know how to react.
“A gift, dear,” Madame hugged her. “In addition, of course, to your wages. A gift and an opportunity.”Cecile was dumbfounded. Along with her wages, she was now in possession of more money than she had ever seen in the past two years. And a ticket to the far side of the world. Her eyes were misty with gratitude and she had to make two attempts before she could thank her benefactors.
“Sit down, Cecile.” Madame settled down beside her and put an arm around her maid. “We know you go to art school, and it would probably be a good thing if you were to finish what you’ve started. I only offered you employment for a week, and now that week is up. I did wonder, though, if you might be interested in another two week’s employment, in Bermuda. Hence the ticket. My husband and I shall be leaving tomorrow morning for a short vacation, we have a villa there, and we would very much like you to come with us.” She winked alluringly, “As our maid, naturally. We would expect you to be bound and dressed in the kind of outfits you have become used to here. If you can bear to tear yourself away from Andre.”Cecile blinked, trying to think. What an incredible opportunity. What a chance. Cecile La Chance. Bien sur! As she tried to gather an appropriate reply, Madame leaned toward her and kissed her hard on the mouth. Cecile froze. Then thawed. Rapidly. She melted into utter submission, utterly loyal to this beautiful woman who had shown her so much, had been so generous, so strict. She would obey any instruction, endure any punishment to please her Mistress.
“Would you like to be bound, Cecile?” Madam’s voice washed over her vibrating body like a seismic wave, obliterating everything that had stood before, sweeping her ahead into new realities, unknown territories. She loved Madame in that moment. This was one freedom, among many, but this was hers, tonight, here and now.“Ah oui, Madame. Attachez-moi s’il vous plait. Je suis toute a vous. Merci Madame…”
Gentle hands lifted her from the couch, sheathed her in fragrant tightness, and held her firmly down. Her mouth was filled with thrusting softness and her eyes muffled against the light. Her breath was taken from her, then returned, a gift to be savored. She was clad in layers of slippery fineness, wrapped and buckled, pinned and locked inside another dimension. Velvet and steel, tightening bliss, and freedom was its name.There was stimulation that might have been pain, or sheer pleasure. It could not be so simply defined. There were moments of what might have been humiliation that became instead joyous adoration. She wept. And moaned with delight, rippled and shook, and when it was over she never knew, for the after-images went on and on, diminished but detailed still, like a priceless miniature, echoing away into other realms. She laughed gaily deep inside, because in their generosity, they paid her for this. Unnecessary. But welcome indeed. All is fair in lust and trust, in captivity, finer still the orchid blooms, is adored for its searing beauty, attended to, admired, regenerated.
Somewhere beneath the warm green rippled waters of Bermuda, far from the familiar, three rubber-suited figures engaged in a strange activity. The smaller of the two females, sheathed in a tight cocoon of violet latex, drifted in the warm undersea currents. Her ankles were chained to a yacht anchor and she wore a dreamy expression behind the armored glass of her face-mask. The aqualung, strapped to her back, gave her temporary citizenship in the deep-range, and she undulated gracefully like some coral-clinging marine creature.Isolated, immersed and immobilized, she could only exist, but her existence was one outside of any classifiable context, and so simply was. She observed and was observed. The larger female was also tightly wrapped, encased also in a form-fitting impermeable latex, also with her own atmosphere, life-giving, bubbling away in swirling translucent billows. The third form, powerful and alert, circled them like a predator. A speargun, poised and ready, swept their domain for other predators, while a winking underwater camera swept this liquid vision, recording the whole unlikely scene.
After a while, after a measured period of calm and tranquil being, the male gathered up his females and led them, still bound, to the borders of these two separate worlds, atmosphere and hydrosphere, arranging passage from one into the other, and shedding their skins, rewarded each in ways too private to tell here.Cecile smiled, almost purring, under the hot summer sun. Tanned and oiled, she lay naked on the deck, spread and bound, there for the enjoyment of her employers, friends, captors and lovers as they admired and appreciated that which they had crated. She was utterly woman. Utterly free. Content.
The red sails diminished in size as the Ketch came between sea and sun, ensign fluttering in the warm evening breeze. On its way to new adventure, new experiences. To a certain young woman on board, the world would never quite be the same place again.